Who Runs the World?

I: Introduction

No, I’m not correcting Beyoncé’s grammar.

I’m talking about something serious here.

Several weeks before the publishing of this post, I posted a meme on Facebook that says, “Once you learn a sufficient amount of history you must choose to become either a Marxist or a liar”.

A FB friend of mine expressed a sharp disagreement with this message, saying that Marx was a third or fourth cousin of Nathan Meyer, 1st Lord Rothschild [!], and that the latter was “the father of capitalism” [?]. Her source was a book called The Jewish Journey, by Edward Gelles.

According to her, this Gelles originally studied in Oxford University, but later became an independent researcher; which suggests that the academic establishment in Oxford have rejected his ideas as crackpot ones. Now, as an independent researcher myself, I’m no fan of conformist establishment academia, but saying that any one man ‘fathered’ capitalism (if anyone, that was Adam Smith, 1723-1790), as if sprung fully grown from his forehead (assuming Gelles called Meyer capitalism’s “father,” rather than my friend), and polemically linking (Jewish) Marx with the (Jewish) Rothschilds sounds like junk history to me.

Granted, my own grasp of history has more than its share of gaps, but even I won’t oversimplify economic history by claiming that the capitalist mode of production began with one man. Capitalism gradually grew, over a period of centuries within feudalism through merchants (i.e., mercantile capitalism). Marx, in his writing of The Communist Manifesto, was arguably the first theoretician of communism, though there were a host of socialists before him. Capitalism’s beginnings predate Meyer, born in 1840, by many decades.

Personally, I couldn’t care less if a British banker of German descent is connected by blood to Marx; this link, if it’s at all true (and I seriously doubt it), could be explained by the fact that there were small numbers in the said Ashkenazi Jewish community, and with that, the high level of close relatives’ marriages. What’s being implied by this link, though, reeks to high heaven of the old Nazi conspiracy theory known as Judeo-Bolshevism. The Nazis themselves made the Marx/Rothschilds link, which according to Gelles is well-known, casting doubt on the idea that this ‘history’ has been suppressed, as my FB friend imagines it to be.

Just because two people stem from the same family doesn’t mean that they have the same, or even remotely comparable, views on anything, a fact that should go without saying, and one that even my FB friend acknowledged in her comments. Yet many people seem to think that all members of a family, or of a certain tribe–as such paranoiacs would call it–must have the same ideology, or the same political agenda, while their scheme might involve presenting that unity in the form of differences and variations that are only superficial.

If this supposed family link is true and has been suspiciously suppressed, I don’t find it difficult to see why. As I said above, the Nazis made this Marx/Rothschilds link, and such propaganda led to the murder of six million Jews. What needs to be remembered today is that fascism has been coming back in style: liberals have been defending Ukrainian Nazis, minimizing, if not outright denying, their influence in the politics of the area in a way comparable to Holocaust denial; far-right groups have made gains all over Europe; and with this knowledge, I find it easy to believe that some academics with secret fascist sympathies can sneak spurious details into their books.

Israeli atrocities in Gaza are stirring up lots of bad feeling against Jews. The fact that this genocide being perpetrated against the Palestinians is so indefensible is all the more reason to be careful about using the rage we feel, justified as it is in itself, to generalize unfairly about all the Jews of the world, many of whom are as opposed to what the Zionists are doing as everyone else is. For if we do that generalizing, and go around repeating the old paranoid antisemitic slanders about Jews secretly controlling the world, that paranoia could very well result in another Holocaust, the very thing we promised would never happen again.

II: Ancient Antisemitism

The history of antisemitism that I’m summarizing here is far from exhaustive. I’m just touching on a few highlights that I consider relevant for the sake of my argument.

The earliest known examples of antisemitism come from ancient Egypt and Greece. A particularly noteworthy source at the time was Gnosticism, since it influenced Christianity. The Gnostics came to equate Yahweh–the creator of the physical world, and perceived as being angry, judgmental, and overly-legalistic–with the principle of darkness and materiality, as opposed to the principle of light and the spirit.

Gnosticism posited a dualistic universe in which the good principle of light and the spirit is at war with the evil principle of darkness and matter. It isn’t difficult to translate these ideas into the Christian God being at war with Satan…except that the Gnostics tended to equate Yahweh with the Demiurge, an evil or at least inferior god who created the physical world. It also isn’t difficult to see where New Testament verses like 2 Corinthians 4:4 and John 8:44–in which the Devil is portrayed as a ‘god’ and as the ‘father’ of the Jews, respectively–come from as ideas.

My point behind mentioning all of this is that it establishes not only the association of the Jews with the Devil, but also with the rule of the Earth. We can see here just how much of antisemitism is based on superstitious, religious nonsense, not on anything remotely scientific.

It has been noted in a number of sources that the Gospel According to John has strong Gnostic tendencies, if not being outright Gnostic in essence. The Gnostics, as I pointed out above, were strongly antisemitic, and the Gospel of John carries antisemitism to greater lengths than the Synoptics do. In Matthew, Mark, and Luke, the object of Jesus’ moral condemnation is the hypocrisy of the Pharisees (for example, Matthew 23 and Luke 11:37-53). In John, it’s “the Jews” in general who are judged, as seen in John 8:44 and John 7:13.

That all four Gospels worked to shift the blame for the killing of Christ away from the real perpetrators, the Roman authorities, and onto the Jews (see Matthew 27:25), in order to make it easier for the early Church to win over Roman converts, was the Biblical basis for Christian antisemitism over the past two thousand years. That the man who betrayed Jesus for thirty silver pieces was named Judas Iscariot should tell you something. (Read Hyam Maccoby‘s The Mythmaker and Judas Iscariot and the Myth of Jewish Evil for more details.)

We can see in these early New Testament portrayals of the Jews, as linked to the Devil, the god of this age (thanks to the Gnostics), and as having betrayed Christ for money, how such antisemitic slanders as ‘Jewish greed,’ the ‘Jewish genius at making money (i.e., the ‘fathers of capitalism’),’ and the ‘Jewish conspiracy to dominate the world’ (i.e., the ‘fathers of communism’) originated in religious superstition, not fact.

III: Medieval Antisemitism and Money-lending

Of course, the stereotypes of Jewish greed and uncanny talent at making money are not based solely on religious beliefs. Jews in medieval, Christian-dominated Europe made a living largely as tax and rent collectors, and of course as money-lenders. The antisemite believes Jews did this kind of work, considered morally despicable, because it’s in their nature to do such work; the informed reader of history, however, knows that the European medieval Jew did this kind of work because he wasn’t allowed to do much of any other kind of profession.

The Jewish faith itself frowns upon usury just as any other faith does. Still, many have thought of the lending of money at immorally excessive rates of interest as synonymous with being Jewish.

While The Merchant of Venice has often been staged and interpreted as antisemitic (one need only look at productions of the play in Nazi Germany to see how obvious this fact is), it could also be interpreted as simply commenting on the reality of antisemitism. Going against the money-loving stereotype, Shylock would rather have a pound of Antonio‘s flesh than take twice the amount of the original loan; his wish for that flesh, as reprehensible as it may be, is also understandable given the horrendous abuse Shylock has suffered throughout the play, just because he is a Jew.

Now, when the Enlightenment came about around the 18th century, which resulted in the Jewish emancipation from frequently-impoverished ghettos (a fact that knocks a few holes in the ‘rich Jew’ myth), job restrictions, and the like, some Jews became bankers, like the Rothschilds, which leads me to my next point.

IV: The Rothschilds

I’m perfectly aware of the many things out there published on YouTube, etc., claiming that the Rothschild family essentially controls everything: the banks, the media, world governments, and that they’re behind all the wars and political upheavals of the past few hundred years. Just because a nut here, or a nut there, says these things online and presents a pile of ‘evidence’ doesn’t make these claims true, though.

The Rothschilds, some being wealthy bankers, are capitalists. It’s their embrace of capitalism, not their Jewishness, that should be the basis of any criticism of them. While they were much wealthier and more influential back in the nineteenth century, they’d lost much of this preeminence since WWII, when the Nazis confiscated so much of their wealth and property. They’re far from being the world’s wealthiest family now.

The roots of the notion of this family’s ‘Satanic’ influence on world events are in a pamphlet written by someone calling himself “Satan,” of all pseudonyms. He was actually an antisemite named Mathieu Georges Dairnvael who in 1846 wrote about Nathan Rothschild being in Belgium at the time of the Battle of Waterloo in 1815. Learning of the outcome of the battle early, Nathan rushed across the North Sea in a storm to get to London twenty-four hours before Wellington’s messenger could and play the stock market with this knowledge, thus amassing twenty million francs, or a million sterling.

He and his brothers allegedly sold government consols cheaply, and once the prices had dropped, they made massive purchases.

There’s only one problem with this story.

It’s utter unsubstantiated bullocks.

Nathan Rothschild was in neither Wellington nor in Belgium at the time. There was no storm on the water between Belgium and England. He made no great killing on the stock market, either.

Still, Dairnvael’s canard spread all over the place, got translated into many languages, and gained such a hold on history that it’s been referred to in popular culture and scholarly works. Films were made about the story, in Hollywood in 1934, and, surprise, surprise, in a Nazi propaganda film in 1940, called The Rothschilds: Shares in Waterloo.

Alterations were made to the story when parts of it were disproven, such as Nathan’s not being in Waterloo, with such changes as the use of a carrier pigeon or special messenger to get the news to him first while he was in London. Hence, the tenacity of the canard to this day, in combination with antisemites’ tenacity.

Furthermore, Nathan wasn’t the only one to get early news of the outcome of the battle; and he had time to buy shares, apparently, but he couldn’t have had enough holdings, in the thin market of the day, to earn the millions he supposedly earned. He may have done well, but numerous rival investors did far better than he.

In any case, if people on the far right can rant and rave about evil bankers, so can leftists, including one claimed to have been blood-related to the Rothschilds: “In the fierce articles that Marx penned in 1849-1850, published in The Class Struggle in France, he took offense at the way Louise-Napoleon Bonaparte‘s new minister of finance, Achille Fould, representing bankers and financiers, peremptorily decided to increase the tax on drinks in order to pay rentiers their due.” (Piketty, page 132) The subject of this quote now leads us to my next topic.

V: Of Marx and Marxists

Though Karl Marx was ethnically a Jew, his family had converted to Christianity, and as an atheist, he rejected all religion, Christian and Jewish alike, as “the opium of the people.”

What’s more, defying the stereotype of the rich Jew, the fact remains that Marx was a poor man, often in debt. Because of his revolutionary activity, he had to hide from the authorities, often using pseudonyms. He was kicked out of Germany in 1843, and from his move to England in 1849 to his death in 1883 as a stateless man, he was in a state of abject poverty, having to live off the charity of his friend and colleague, Friedrich Engels.

The next thing we must ask is, what is Marxism? We should start by discussing what Marxism is not. It isn’t about edgy young people spiking their hair and dying it pink, wearing body piercing and tattoos, and griping at people who address them with the wrong pronouns. Some of these people may be Marxists, or they may have a smattering of the influence of Marxism, but as such, they don’t constitute the essence of Marxism. Such people are far more likely to be radlibs, who shouldn’t be confused with Marxists, even if there’d be some overlap of the two groups on a Venn diagram. People on the far right tend to think that anyone even a few millimetres to the left of them, including the centre-left liberal, is a ‘commie.’ Ridiculous.

On the other side of the coin, Marxists are sincerely concerned with the plight of the poor, and we’re trying to work out the best solutions possible to the problem of that plight, hence scientific socialism. We aren’t part of some grand Jewish conspiracy for world domination.

I bring up these two examples of what we’re not, caricatured as they may be, as a rebuttal of the ignorant nonsense many on the right believe about us. Marxism isn’t radicalism for its own sake. It isn’t utopian. And it isn’t a plot for world domination. Marxism is economics; it’s a theory about capitalism. It’s dull, dry, and difficult to understand in its statistical detail.

Another important aspect of Marxism is what’s called dialectical and historical materialism. This is derived from Hegel’s dialectic, popularly (though not by Hegel himself) represented as “thesis, antithesis, synthesis,” and understood in terms of philosophical idealism (everything has a spiritual basis), which Marx turned upside-down (or right-side up, as Marx would have had it–Marx, page 102-103) as a form of philosophical materialism (everything has a material basis).

A lot of right-wing conspiracy theorists, including those who believe in the NWO, grossly oversimplify the dialectic by characterizing the above triad as “problem, reaction, solution,” making it into a diabolical formula that the ‘elite,’ or the ‘deep state’ uses to justify bringing in more and more tyrannical legislation. I assure you, Dear Reader, the dialectic, be it Hegel’s or Marx’s version, is much more general and more broadly applied than that.

The dialectic is about reconciling contradictory opposites–theoretically any opposites. In his Science of Logic, Hegel used the example of Being, Nothingness, and Becoming to show how opposites can be sublated and therefore resolved (Hegel, pages 82-83). He used it to show how ideas in philosophy can be refined for better logical thinking. A proposition is negated in order to have the conflicting ideas resolved in a sublation, which is in turn negated and sublated to create an even better idea to be negated and sublated, and so on and so on…

Marx, on the other hand, showed how contradictions have been resolved in the physical world throughout history, in particular, the contradiction between the rich and the poor (“the history of all hitherto existing society is the history of class struggles“). First, there was the ancient slave/master contradiction, which was keenly felt in the old slave revolts led by men like Spartacus. This got sublated into feudalism, which gave us the next major contradiction, that of the feudal lords vs. the poor peasants. The tensions of that conflict climaxed in such events as the French Revolution, whose sublation led to our current contradiction, that of the bourgeoisie vs. the proletariat–capitalism.

It is predicted that our current conflict will be sublated into a socialist revolution, with the dictatorship of the proletariat (a workers’ state, which is a government of the vast majority of the people, also called real democracy) leading to the withering away of the state and the ultimate goal, communist society–a classless, stateless, and money-less society.

Note how with each “problem, reaction, solution,” the world gets better and better, not worse and worse. If I’m wrong, maybe the right-wingers would prefer feudalism or ancient slavery. Of course, they’ll never think the world will get better by going my way, because thanks to the Cold War, anti-communist propaganda for which this very political right is responsible, my way is portrayed as “extremist” and “Satanic.”

And this “Satanic” agenda is perceived by the far right as dominating world politics, rather than mainstream liberalism, since far too few people today can distinguish the left from mere liberals. Added to the right’s paranoia of “Satanism” in today’s politics is a paranoia of Jewish influence in politics, just as the Nazis had a paranoid belief that a huge percentage of the members of the Bolshevik Party were Jews, when actually far fewer than even ten percent of party members, as well as those on the Central Committee, for example, were ethnic Jews in the 1920s.

Believing Jews dominate extreme capitalism (when actually, it was the Nazis and other fascists who represented this extreme) and the far left is a typical far-right mentality. Imagining Marx was related by blood to the Rothschild family is surely a part of that mentality. Fascists may portray their ideology as theoretically a ‘third position‘ between capitalism and communism, but in practice theirs is a violent defence of the former. Beware of people who claim to be ‘neither left nor right.’ These people are rightists–libertarians, ‘Third Way‘ politicians, and Bonapartists.

VI: On Zionism

Now, I’ve been doing a whole lot of defending Jews against antisemitism, which is necessary, especially in today’s world, with the current resurgence of fascist tendencies in many parts of the world. This defence of mine, however, needn’t and mustn’t necessitate a defence of the racist, apartheid, settler-colonialism of Israel. For Zionism is a form of fascism.

Anti-Zionism is not antisemitism, as long as one’s criticism and moral condemnation of Israel’s oppression and victimization of the Palestinians isn’t rooted in the kind of bigoted nonsense I was describing above. If we don’t want Zionists to play the antisemitism card whenever we criticize Israeli brutality, we mustn’t describe that brutality in terms of “Well, they’re Jews! What do you expect?”

Though Israel is the Jewish state, the establishment and maintenance of Zionism is not exclusively or even essentially Jewish. Many critics of Zionism are Jews, including those who practice Judaism. Observant Jews believe that Zion is to be established by God with the coming of the Messiah; man is thus forbidden to establish it secularly.

Many Jews, whether religious or not, have always condemned the creation of Israel on moral grounds, feeling compassion for the suffering of the Palestinians. Some of these Jews are famous: Einstein, Noam Chomsky, etc. To condemn Israel is to be human, not to be anti-Jewish. It’s about loving the Palestinians, not hating the Jews. Listen to Norman Finkelstein‘s passionate advocacy for the Palestinians to see my point. The younger generations of Jews, tending to be more politically progressive, are more critical of Israel than the older generations.

Furthermore, many non-Jews are pro-Zionist, including many evangelical Christians. Biden, a Catholic, has openly, proudly declared his support for Israel, as any American politician (who doesn’t want to kill his or her career) will do. Trump, the ‘antiestablishment president,’ is blatantly Zionist: recall his moving of the American embassy from Tel Aviv to Jerusalem, the latter being deemed Israel’s new capital; this move infuriated the Palestinians, of course, and for very good reason (it happened on the 70th anniversary of the Nakba), and their protests resulted in the IDF shooting and killing a great many unarmed Palestinians along the Gaza border. It’s the kind of thing that helps us understand why Hamas exists.

The motives of those Western leaders, who set up the Balfour Declaration in 1917 to create a Jewish state in the Middle East, were not exactly innocent, by the way. These non-Jewish pro-Zionists were acting out of antisemitic interests–they wanted to use Zion as a way of getting rid of the Jews in their own countries. Recall that at the time, decades before the Holocaust, anti-Jewish prejudice was a common and accepted attitude.

So, why is Israel so important to the Western ruling class? They may rationalize it as a form of atonement for how two millennia of European antisemitism culminated in the Holocaust. Yet if this Western guilt was among the main reasons for backing Zionism, then why did the West, right around the time of the creation of Israel, also not only pardon many ex-Nazis, but also give them high-paying, high-status jobs in the American and West German governments, as well as in NASA and NATO? We have to look elsewhere for that reason, and that elsewhere is imperialism.

Let’s go back to the question that is the title of this article. Many people believe, because of the large Jewish lobby in American politics (AIPAC), that Israel rules the US, and therefore the world, too. The hidden spark of truth behind this antisemitic slander is that the US, the capitalist, imperialist country par excellence, is what actually runs the world.

Seriously: Israel, a tiny sliver of land that’s barely seven miles wide at its narrowest point, with a population of just over nine million–as against a global population of just over eight billion–rules the world, just because those nine million are ‘God’s chosen people’ (translation: the Demiurge’s, or Devil’s, chosen people)? We can see how paranoid anti-Jew fantasies have been kept alive from ancient times by being passed down through our collective unconscious.

American support for Israel is much more rooted in Christian Zionism than in Jewish Zionism. It isn’t that Israel controls the US and the West in general, but vice versa. Christian Zionists, who at least veer dangerously close to, if they don’t completely immerse themselves in, outright fundamentalism, believe that the establishment and maintenance of Israel will speed up the End Times, the Rapture, etc. Then the Bible-thumpers can go up to heaven faster and look down on us unrepentant sinners as we burn in Hell, and they can laugh at us for not accepting Jesus as our personal saviour. How charming.

But religious nonsense aside, there’s a much more pertinent reason that the political right (which of course includes the religious right) supports Israel. The Western capitalist class needs a political ally in the geo-strategically crucial Middle East, and that ally is Israel. There’s a lot of oil in that general area, and the global ruling class needs to have a foothold there for the sake of having political leverage.

Back in the mid- to late 1940s, the Soviet Union recognized the geo-strategic importance of the area, and so regrettably they–in an act of realpolitikgave some support to the establishment of Israel, hoping it would be a socialist state and an ally during the beginning Cold War. Since socialists have always been anti-Zionists, this brief Soviet support was a momentary lapse of reason, and when it became clear that, despite the socialist leanings of the kibbutzim, Israel would be a bourgeois state, allied with the US, the Soviet government repented of their support and thenceforth remained in total solidarity with the Arabs.

Having global power is based on the ownership of huge masses of wealth and land, not some Satanic Jewish mojo. Look at Israel on a map: it’s tiny. The US, in contrast, has military bases around the world. Israel has been able to defeat its Arab neighbours in numerous wars because of the military and financial aid of the US, the truly powerful country. The US helps Israel because Israel helps the US…and the imperialistic interests of the Anglo/American/NATO alliance.

The West uses Israel to help protect their lucrative oil interests (surely part of why Israel has a ‘secret’ supply of nukes), and so Israel can kick some ass if needed. When Israel does this dirty work, they get scapegoated so the West won’t get blamed (or only minimally blamed). It’s a perfect system for the Western powers.

VII: Conclusion

Now, with all of that said, I must conclude with a bold statement, bluntly given, and which may offend some: Israel should not exist. Let me put this statement in its proper context. As a Canadian, I also believe that Canada should not exist. The United States should not exist. Neither Australia nor New Zealand should exist. The same goes for all the other nation-states of the world founded on settler colonialism.

Does this mean we should kick all the newcomers out of their respective countries? No. As I would have it, negotiations would be made between the indigenous peoples on the one side and the settlers on the other, within the context of these places being federations of socialist communities rather than the bourgeois states that they are currently. Full, equal civil rights would be granted to everyone, regardless of race, colour, ethnicity, religion, sex, sexual orientation or identity, ability/disability, etc. But the land would be understood to be that of the indigenous people. No one would have the right, for example, to construct a gas pipeline on land deemed sacred to the aboriginals.

The same principles should be applied to Palestine, the one and only state that should exist in that area. Jewish communities should be allowed to live there and be given full, equal civil rights, but the land belongs to the Palestinians: it’s to be for Palestinian Jews, Christians, Muslims, etc., equally. The Jews there should no longer have hegemony over the land.

As for all of that antisemitic nonsense, though, I must say that I find it deeply disturbing that so many people out there, including many well-intentioned ones, have confused Nazi propaganda with some kind of ‘deep, arcane, and forbidden knowledge.’ I’d say the promotion of these ideas is yet another indication of the unsettling resurgence of fascism in today’s world. I’d like to be charitable and say that I’m sure that my FB friend, in believing all of that Rothschild nonsense, is not a Nazi sympathizer, but rather just someone who isn’t as well-informed as she thinks she is.

And this all brings us back to the message of that meme I mentioned in the Introduction: are you, or are you not, sufficiently knowledgeable of history? If you are, perhaps you aren’t convinced that you must be either a Marxist or a liar. Fair enough. But those who do know enough about history, and who also present Nazi propaganda as fact, are liars through and through. They’re also truly despicable people.

Oh, and describing oneself as having Jewish blood while believing in this Nazi nonsense doesn’t exempt one from this criticism. Zelenskyy being a Jew doesn’t in itself disprove that there are Nazis in the Ukrainian government and military, though many liberals in the media try to make that argument; there were Jews who fought for Nazi Germany; there’s Israel’s support of the Ukrainian Nazis; and finally, there are those bizarre things Netanyahu said about the Holocaust.

Now, anyone out there who objects to my judgements about the Nazi narratives, and wants to rant at me in the comment section about how the Rothschild conspiracy theories are ‘true,’ and how the Jews are supposedly behind the birth of both capitalism and communism, go ahead and present links to your ‘proof.’ Deny your Nazi sympathies all you want, but the only thing you’ll be accomplishing is outing yourself to the world as a Nazi. I hope you’re proud of yourself.

The fact is, the rulers of the world aren’t any particular ethnic group, merely because they’re of that ethnicity. Such thinking isn’t only irrational, it’s also a political distraction from the real root of the problem. The global capitalist class runs the world, through their vast wealth, political and media influence, and ownership of land. To be sure, some of them are Jews, but many of them aren’t. In any case, it isn’t their Jewishness or non-Jewishness that matters.

There’s only one minority we need to distrust: the rich.

‘Gaya,’ a Surreal Adventure–Chapter Eight

After a long march up Gaya’s arms, Tesel’s group and the one led by Lia and Fil met between the shoulders. They found a tunnel up the neck that was behind the windpipe, so they were able to avoid those powerful winds that had killed a number of their warriors in the lung chambers.

Once all of them were level with Gaya’s mouth, they began to hear faint, whispering voices.

“Are the gods and angels speaking to us again?” Fil asked.

“I don’t think it’s’ them,” Lia said. “These voices sound different, and much too close to be from heaven.”

“Let’s listen,” Tesel said. “This could be important.”

“Kill…worm…kill…will,” the voice whispered, over and over.

“Can you understand that?” Lia asked Tesel.

“Unlike when the gods speak their indecipherable babble, I can make out these words…Gaya’s words,” Tesel said. “But how do we interpret the meaning of, ‘Kill worm, kill will?'”

“We know we have to kill the worm,” Fil said. “That’s obvious.”

“We’ll be facing Kappitta on our way back to face Aisa’s army,” Tesel said. “It will probably still be in the stomach and intestinal areas, because that’s where it gets its food. So surely we’ll kill it first, before we face Aisa’s men.”

“But what does ‘kill will’ mean?” Lia asked. “Does it mean that killing Kappitta will destroy our will to carry on and defeat Aisa’s army?”

“That hardly makes sense,” Tesel said.

“Yet, it rather sounds like that’s what Gaya meant,” Fil said.

“Is this the wisdom that Gaya’s brain has for us to defeat Aisa’s army?” Lia asked. “That we have to let Kappitta live?

“That doesn’t make any sense at all,” Tesel said. “Kappitta has only been bad for Gaya. It must be killed. Besides, it will be in our way before we get to Aisa. We must at least confront it and fight it.”

“So shall we fight it, but not kill it?” Fil asked.

“Let’s continue up to the brain and find out for sure,” Tesel said. “Let’s not jump to any hasty conclusions.”

“Very well, then, troops!” Lia shouted to all the warriors behind her. “Let’s continue up to Gaya’s brain!”

They marched on up.

Analysis of ‘Barfly’

Barfly is a 1987 film directed by Barbet Schroeder and written by Charles Bukowski, who also does a cameo. It stars Mickey Rourke and Faye Dunaway, with Alice Krige, Frank Stallone, Jack Nance (whom you might remember from Eraserhead), and JC Quinn.

Barfly is a semi-autobiographical film with Henry Chinaski (Rourke) as a fictionalized version of young Bukowski. The film was entered into the 1987 Cannes Film Festival, where it competed for the Palme D’or. Dunaway was nominated for a Golden Globe for Best Actress in a Drama. Barfly was also nominated for two Independent Spirit Awards: Best Actor for Rourke, and Best Cinematography for Robby Müller.

Here’s a link to quotes from the film, and here’s a link to the whole film.

Destitute LA alcoholic/writer Henry Chinaski exemplifies the Dionysian lifestyle, and it goes way beyond the obvious link with drinking. To understand the extent to which Henry embodies Dionysus, we must understand everything the wine god represents beyond just wine: dancing and pleasure, or partying, and irrationality and chaos, including passion, emotions, and instincts.

More important than even these, though, to consider how Nietzsche discussed Dionysus in The Birth of Tragedy, the god represents disorder, intoxication, emotion, ecstasy, and unity, as opposed to the Apollonian principle of individuation. What does wine itself represent, when emptied from the bottle or wine glass and poured into one’s mouth? It represents a dissolution of boundaries (i.e., the bottle or wine glass that gives shape and boundaries to the drink), and in entering the drinker’s body, the wine becomes one with the drinker. The intoxication from the alcoholic drink causes blurred vision and slurred speech–more dissolution of boundaries, more non-differentiation.

Thus, in Henry, we have not only a drunk, but also a law-breaker and a brawler…that is, one who doesn’t respect societal boundaries. His fists cross boundaries to hit the face and body of Eddie (Stallone), the “unoriginal, macho…ladies’ man” bartender he so despises. Henry’s hands cross boundaries to steal a sandwich right out of the hands of a man who’s just paid him to fetch the sandwich, or to break into a neighbour’s apartment to steal his food and wine.

Henry, as a writer, is the Dionysian artist whom Nietzsche saw as having “identified himself with the primal unity, its pain and contradiction” (Nietzsche, page 49). In total unity of everything, there is no ego, no self, no individuation, and no boundary between self and other. The contradiction of identifying self with other is painful, because the ego one is attached to is an illusion, whereas the fragmented existence is the only reality, like that of mutilated Zagreus.

Henry is much like Zagreus after that first fight with Eddie in the alley behind the bar. He’s lying all bloody on the ground, practically left for dead. Later, after being hit several times on the head with a purse held by angry Wanda (Dunaway), he looks at his bloody head in the bathroom mirror and recites improvised poetry, which includes the word, “euphoria.” He’s seeing his Lacanian ideal-I in the reflection, seeing his suffering Zagreus-self as a role model to live up to.

Getting drunk is, as we all know, an escape from all the suffering of the world, a manic defence against life’s depressing realities. Bukowski once described drinking as a kind of slow suicide; it’s a pleasure that ends the pain of life by throwing oneself into death, or at least trying to.

Freud wrote of two opposing ways of achieving pleasure, either through Eros, the life instincts that include libido, or through the death drive (called Thanatos by Freud’s followers), since death brings the organism back into a state of total rest, just as the achievement of libidinal pleasure tries to do. “To die, to sleep, no more,” as Hamlet said.

Similarly, just as the Hindus and Buddhists hope to achieve moksha or nirvana through a dissolution of the self (be that in the form of Atman realizing its identity with Brahman, or in the form of realizing, as the Lacanians do, that the ego is an illusion, that there never was a self to begin with–anattā), so do Dionysian types like Bukowski, Henry, and Wanda attempt a kind of ego death, but through drink, and through all things considered sinful or self-destructive.

In other posts, I have written of the ouroboros as symbolizing the dialectical unity of opposites. The serpent’s biting head is one extreme opposite, and the bitten tail is the other; every intermediate point is corresponded on the relevant place on the serpent’s coiled body, which represents a circular continuum. Thus, heaven or nirvana can be seen at the biting head, for example, and hell can be the bitten tail. The normal spiritual quest goes to the head away from the tail, that is, along the length of the coiled body towards the head; the Dionysian, in contrast, gets to the biting head by passing across the bitten tail. People like Henry are trying to get to heaven by passing through hell first, as Christ did.

This perverse pilgrim’s progress of Henry’s explains why he is content to be left beaten to a pulp in an alley at night, helped by no one. It explains how he can look at his bloody head in a mirror and say, “euphoria,” how he can think that people who never go crazy must lead “truly horrible lives,” that “nobody who could write worth a damn could ever write in peace,” and that “endurance is more important that truth.”

Wanda as a drinker is going through the same pilgrim’s progress. After some heavy drinking one night at home, she is lying in bed and imagining she’s dying. She imagines an angel has come to take her away. She’s saying this to Henry as some beautiful Mahler, the andante moderato third movement from the sixth symphony, is playing. Henry is so convinced she’s dying that he calls some paramedics, who correctly conclude that she’s just drunk.

The point is that with each experience of suffering, the Dionysian pushes himself further, into even greater suffering, a move further towards the ouroboros’ bitten tail in the hopes of finally passing it and reaching the head of paradise. ‘Tis a consummation devoutly to be wished.

After being beaten by Eddie several times, Henry keeps coming back for more. He’ll do occasional jobs here and there, since he’s got to have at least a little money to live…and pay for drinks, of course!…but he is loath to get a regular job and join “unoriginal” society. (He’ll only try to get one for Wanda’s sake.) He’s been in jail twelve times, but he keeps breaking laws at every opportunity.

Now, one shouldn’t confuse his coarseness for a lack of culture. He’s a talented writer of poetry and prose, so talented that his writing has touched publisher Tully Sorenson (Krige), whose wealth and intervention in Henry’s life represent where Apollonian order intersects with Dionysian wildness. He listens to classical music, Mahler and Mozart in particular. He hates movies (as did Bukowski, who really needed a financial incentive to write the script for Schroeder’s film!), but he likes Schopenhauer, whose philosophical pessimism, by the way, is a Buddhistic opposition to existence.

His aspiration towards ego death is in such an advanced state that when Tully, on meeting him face-to-face for the first time in his frequented watering hole, asks him who he is–“the eternal question”–and he gives her the eternal answer…he doesn’t know.

Tully’s intervention into his life represents not only the intersection of the Apollonian with the Dionysian: it also represents the intrusion of capitalism into the world of the lumpenproletariat, which Henry so perfectly personifies. She is a wealthy book publisher, wearing fashionable clothes, living in a beautiful, large home, and–let’s face it–hoping to turn a profit off of his talent. Having a basic sense of class consciousness, though, he can’t accept her world, “a cage with golden bars.”

His class consciousness, knowing that “nobody suffers like the poor,” doesn’t mean Henry’s at all motivated to help organize anything like a worker’s revolution. Men like him are why Marx and Engels didn’t see any potential in the lumpenproletariat. Like so many of the poor, Henry feels incapable of pulling himself out of poverty, let alone doing so for the working class in general; hence the wish to escape his misery through drink.

Instead of supporting a vanguard-led revolution, he simply lives as an anarchist would in an otherwise capitalist world. He does what he likes, and has no respect for authority. His stealing of food, as is Wanda’s stealing of corn, is a kind of putting into practice the socialist ideal, “from each according to his ability, to each according to his needs.” The same can be said of Wanda’s living off of Wilbur’s charity.

Henry’s meeting of Wanda in the bar where we see the Bukowski cameo is serendipitous, for in this meeting we’ll see the beginning of a relationship that will mitigate his misanthropy. His leaving of his dump of an apartment to live in hers, in a way, can also be associated with his Dionysian lifestyle, since as a chthonic god (i.e., of the underworld or of agriculture…recall that corn Wanda wants!), the wine god can also be associated with matrilineal and matrilocal forms of social organization.

Indeed, Henry’s anger at Wanda over her cheating on him isn’t based on some patrilineal notion that he ‘owns’ her: he explicitly acknowledges not owning her. He simply cannot stand that she’s slept with Eddie, of all men!

Henry’s jealousy of her over Eddie, paralleled with her jealousy of him over Tully, has as a coincidence how, when either of them is cheated on, the other has gone off to look for a job. Henry, after coming back to the bar from his job interview, tells Jim (Quinn) that he hates how society tells us we all have to do something, or to be somebody–i.e., to have a job and form one’s identity around it. Similarly, when upon meeting Wanda, Henry asks her what she does, she says, “I drink,” instead of saying a job title. So in betraying themselves to the capitalist system by trying to get jobs, they end up betraying each other sexually.

During Henry’s job interview–with a woman with beautiful, pantyhose-covered legs he ogles and gets a “hard-on” from–he answers “none” to questions about hobbies, religion, education, and even his sex. Once again, he’s demonstrating his Dionysian dissolution of identity…as well as his satyr-like lust.

After Wanda has beaten and bloodied his head with her purse and stormed out of her apartment, he gets back at her by throwing her clothes out the window, once again demonstrating his Dionysian disregard for people’s boundaries.

His Lacanian lack of an ego, combined with his lack of respect for boundaries and his embrace of violence, indicates his experience of the undifferentiated, traumatic, and nonverbal world of the Real. His writing of poetry and prose, however, bring him back to the verbal, social, and cultural world of the Symbolic, as does his making of money from that writing, through Tully’s cashed cheque of $500, which allows him to buy rounds of drinks at the bar to win “all [his] friends,” who will surely give him emotional support for his next fight with Eddie. His moment of “euphoria” in front of Wanda’s bathroom mirror, idealizing himself as an eternal fighter, a Dionysus, is Henry’s experience of the narcissistic Imaginary.

There are other Dionysian personalities in Wanda’s apartment building, mind you, than just her and Henry. Wanda’s next-door neighbours are an old man and woman, the former of whom, it seems, is physically abusing the latter. Henry notes, in near-Buddhistic fashion upon hearing the nastiness next door, that hatred is the only thing that lasts.

Still, even a Dionysian like Henry has a sense of gallantry, and after being fed up with the disturbing fighting he’s been hearing through the wall, decides he wants to help the poor old woman over there, right when he’s finally met and chatted with Tully. He breaks down the neighbours’ door to confront the old man over his vicious treatment of his woman. As it turns out, though, she likes being hurt by her man! It’s a kind of sadomasochistic kink that they’re into, another Dionysian embrace of violence and transgressing of boundaries.

It doesn’t take long for Tully to realize that her Apollonian world is incompatible with Henry’s. Not only can’t she convince him to be “a non-drunk,” and not only can’t she compete as a drinker with him, but she is horrified with his violent nature, gutting the old man with his knife, and driving his car into and pushing the car of two “unoriginal,” publicly kissing lovebirds into an intersection. Henry sees another Eddie in that man, and wants to trespass beyond his boundaries.

It’s an amusing example of projection when rich Tully, annoyed with Henry’s confrontational attitude toward two “romantic” lovebirds in their car, that she calls him “a spoiled asshole” (my emphasis). It’s even more amusing when Henry says that she “hired a dick [Nance] to find an asshole,” my favourite line in the whole film!

One cannot have Dionysus without Maenads, and Henry has one in Wanda. Her jealous fury over Tully having slept with him causes her to have violent designs on the rich, wealthy publisher.

Indeed, Tully’s disapproval of Henry’s wild dipsomania, and her wish to take him out of that unruly world and into her tame, Apollonian one, makes her into a kind of female Pentheus, the king whose banning of Dionysian worship caused him to be lured into the wine god’s sylvan milieu and torn to pieces by the Maenads, as is presented in Euripides‘ tragedy, The Bacchae.

Similarly, Tully feels pulled into Henry’s world, in spite of her opposition to it, and as soon as Wanda smells the perfumed proof of Tully’s closeness to Henry, the hostilities between the two women begin. This tension is building just as that between Henry and Eddie is being rekindled, the latter being annoyed over the former’s tardiness in paying for all the drinks he’s offering everyone in the bar to buy their friendship and backing in the two men’s upcoming fight.

Wanda grabs Tully by the hair and pulls her, screaming, off her barstool, just like a maniacal Maenad. Tully fights back as best she can, even biting Wanda’s hand; but her bourgeois sense of decorum just can’t let her endure in a fight, so she knows she has no hope of taming Henry. She leaves Dionysus in his world, and she returns to that of Apollo.

Now, this ‘catfight‘ won’t be the only entertainment of the night, since Eddie is hungry for revenge after his humiliating loss the last time. Henry is all too happy to oblige, of course, and the film ends with the eternal recurrence of Dionysian violence with which Barfly began.

After all, hatred’s the only thing that lasts, isn’t it?

‘Gaya,’ a Surreal Adventure–Chapter Seven

Finally, Tesel’s men reached Gaya’s right hand, and the group of fighters led by Lia and Fil reached the left hand. The tunnels of Gaya’s arms opened out into the spacious chambers of her hands, and all the warriors could fit into each chamber with ease.

As they filed in, they felt a presence enter their bodies like air entering the lungs. This ‘air’ seemed to be their trainers of newer and better fighting skills, for they immediately found themselves moving with better grace.

The presence felt as if it were flowing through them…and making them flow everywhere they went. Swordsmen moved their swords in graceful arcs, almost like dancers. Spears were thrown in similarly flowing arcs, always landing exactly where intended. Arrows were shot with the same, flawless marksmanship.

The next thing to improve was their speed. They practiced drawing out and swinging their swords, and they were amazed at how lightning-fast they’d become in so short a time.

“This is incredible!” Tesel said of his own movements, as well as those of the other fighters he was watching.

“I feel as though I can take on all of Aisa’s army all by myself!” Lia shouted with pride as she swung her sword so deftly.

“So do I,” said another female fighter, doing the same faultless cutting of the air with her sword.

“This is so miraculous,” Fil said, with his sword swaying so poetically and swiftly, “that I need to put this improvement of mine to a test.” He took out his cup of wine, and instead of just sneaking a swig for fear of Tesel catching him, he now gulped it all down openly, without inhibition.

Then, once the cup was empty, he waited a moment or two to feel the buzz. He sheathed his sword as he waited.

Now, feeling nice and tipsy, he resumed his practice. He pulled his sword out of its sheath; as quick as a flash, it came out with perfect smoothness, with a screech of the metal blade. Then he moved about, with it slicing in the air as swiftly and adeptly as before. His wine buzz was in no way slowing him down or making him clumsy. It was as if he were completely sober.

“I cannot believe it!” he said with a grin. “I want to take on Kappitta all alone!”

Indeed, all the warriors were letting out triumphant shouts as they continued dancing with their swirling swords, tossing their spears with calculating accuracy, and firing arrows to hit what seemed microscopic targets.

“This is joyous news!” Tesel shouted, loud enough to be heard also in the other hand. “We now have the heart to defeat our enemies with resolve and determination. We have the skill to hit them fast and with precision. Now, there is only one more thing we need to ensure victory: insight from Gaya’s brain to know the secret of Aisa’s power. What weakness, in his army and in Kappitta, must we exploit to defeat them? For this knowledge, we must reunite at her shoulders, and march up to her head. Onwards and upwards!”

They all turned around and began their march out of the chambers of Gaya’s hands; but after only a few steps of each pair of feet, they noticed a slight trembling. Was it another earthquake? They looked back and saw slight movements in one or two of the fingers.

Then they heard a female voice from above:

MyGod!HerfingersclosedaroundmineafterIaskedhertodoso!
Whatwasthat,Lila?
Phil,Iwhisperedtohertograbmyfingersasmyhandtouchedhers,andshedid!Shecouldbebeginningtocomeoutofhercoma!
Maybe.It’sagoodsign,butlet’snotgetourhopesuptoohigh.
Yeah,wedon’twannasetourselvesupfordisappointment.Still,it’sexciting!

Not knowing a word of what was said by the god and goddess, but still encouraged by the feeling they were getting from the two above, the warriors continued their march out of the chambers of Gaya’s hands and back up her arms to her shoulders.

Cyclone

A disaster is coming our way,
but what
form
will
it
take when we see it twirling toward us?

Will we see burning landscapes and rising seas,
with dying plants
and animals on
a planet far
too hot,
though we could have prevented it long, long ago?

Or will we be cooked in a nuclear mushroom,
with millions incinerated,
the truly lucky ones,
and the rest will
have to wait
and slowly
die with large, hungry holes in their stomachs?

Or will our death bring a new birth, and in between
the end and a new beginning,
a truly monstrous time
of painful change
that’s needed
to weed out the greedy and cultivate our garden?

Analysis of ‘Le Marteau sans maître’

I: Introduction

Le Marteau sans maître (“The Hammer Without a Master”) is a chamber cantata composed by Pierre Boulez from 1953 to 1955. It sets surrealist poetry by René Char to music for contralto and six instrumentalists. It is one of Boulez’s most famous and influential compositions.

He was already known as a composer of total serialist pieces. Originally, Le Marteau was a six-movement piece in 1953 and 1954, but in the following year he revised the order of the movements and interpolated three new ones. He would make further revisions to Le Marteau in 1957, since he always felt that his compositions were works “in progress.”

Four of the nine movements have the text of three poems by Char sung, one of them sung a second time, while the remaining five are instrumental ‘commentaries,’ as it were, of the poems. The poetic subjects of the movements are not each grouped together by poem; instead, they alternate with each other.

The first cycle, “L’Artisanat furieux” (“Furious Craftsmanship”), is made up of movements I (‘before’), III, and VII (‘after’). The second cycle, “Bourreaux de solitude” (“Hangmen of Solitude”), is comprised of movements II (commentary I), IV (commentary II), VI, and VIII (commentary III). The third cycle, “Bel Edifice et les pressentiments” (“Stately Building and Presentiments”), is made up of movements V (first version) and IX (again).

The instruments heard are alto flute, vibraphone, guitar, viola, xylorimba, tambourine, bongos, frame drum, finger cymbals, agogô, triangle, maracas, claves, small tam-tam, low gong, very deep tam-tam, and large suspended cymbal. The combinations of these instruments vary with each movement, just as the instrumental variations are from movement to movement in Pierrot lunaire, the Arnold Schoenberg composition that greatly influenced Le Marteau.

This link includes the text in the original French and in English translation. Here are links to recordings of the piece, with the score, and a live performance of it.

II: The Text

As I said above, the text is made up of three surrealist poems by René Char. Since the jarring, unnerving, non-rational images of surrealist art and literature are meant to give expression to the feelings of the unconscious mind, I will interpret the meaning of Char’s clashing, illogical imagery using free association, a psychoanalytic method meant to help bring out unconscious meaning. That is, I’ll be associating common themes among the freely expressed images Char used in his poems.

“Furious Craftsmanship” is the wildly striking hammer of the artisan who creates without any sense of conscious control, that is, a hammer without a master, as it would seem. Such an idea would seem to sum up the entire composition, a wild, uncontrolled expression of feeling, or one controlled unconsciously, by a master of whom we know nothing, as if he didn’t even exist.

“The red caravan on the edge of the nail” parallels “the head on the point of my knife.” With the caravan paralleling the head, we can see the violence, the furious craftsmanship, of the imagery, especially with the “corpse in the basket” immediately following the caravan on the nail’s edge.

The verse is full of incongruous images of one thing far too big for the other: a caravan on the edge of a nail? a corpse in a basket? work horses in a horseshoe? In these surrealist images, we see a reversal of the normal order of things; what is large is inside what is small.

This reversal of order suggests a desire for revolution, something keenly felt by many around the time of 1934, when Char wrote these poems (note also that Char was later part of the French Resistance against Nazi occupation in 1940). Surrealism was understood to be a revolutionary movement, as leader André Breton explicitly said it was; it was associated back then with communism and anarchism. Now, it would be more than a stretch to say that Boulez had any such ideological sympathies, but he certainly wanted to make complete breaks with musical traditions, and he was interested in many of the radical movements of the time; his choice of Char’s poetry was certainly a reflection of this radicalism.

Certainly one aspect of revolution–violence–is evident in this poetry. The head on the point of the knife is apparently a Peruvian one. The image “knife Peru” suggests the violence of Incan human sacrifice, in which boys and girls were chosen to be killed by strangulation, a blow to the head (there’s that ‘hammer without a master,’ or one held by a ‘furious artisan’ of sorts), suffocation, or being buried alive. None of this killing involves the use of a knife, but the “knife Peru” is sufficient in its association with sacrificial violence.

More violent associations are to be made in the second poem, “Hangmen of Solitude,” or lonely executioners. “The step has gone away, the walker has fallen silent,” indeed, if the trapdoor of the gallows has fallen, and the condemned is hanged. His body swings like a “Pendulum.” He has fallen silent “on the dial of imitation,” because to imitate is not to express one’s own ideas, but rather those of others.

I suspect that the notion of imitating others being tantamount to being silent must have resonated with Boulez, since he was known to feel disdain for any musician continuing any traditions, anything done before, hence his insistence on breaking with the musical past. To him, the older music was just “on the dial of imitation,” nothing new, tantamount to silence.

His haughty attitude toward the music of the past was not limited to the likes of Mozart or Beethoven. The music of even his own teacher, Olivier Messiaen, which is more than often enough plenty avant-garde, was the object of his contempt. Boulez called Messiaen’s Trois petites liturgies de la présence divine “brothel music,” and he said the Turangalîla-Symphonie made him vomit.

So any kind of imitation was anathema to Boulez. In the third Char poem used in Le Marteau, we find the line, “Man the imitated illusion,” which must have affected Boulez similarly to “the dial of imitation.” All of this being said, though, one must find it curious, and perhaps a tad hypocritical, of Boulez to be so fiercely judgmental of “imitation,” when one considers how he stuck to serialist techniques for so much of his career as a composer, instead of quickly shifting away from them in search of other avenues of experimental expression. His early-acquired aptitudes in mathematics must have been what sustained his interest in serialism for so long.

Back to the poem. Apart from its association with the swinging body of the hanged condemned man, “The Pendulum” can also be seen as an upside-down hammer–which normally would move in an overhand arc down to what it would hit–instead moving in an ‘underhand’ arc, if you will. The pendulum is thus like an arm, throwing in an underhand motion its load of reflex, or instinctive, granite.

In any case, that pendulum–whether representing the swinging body of a man hanged, or an upside-down hammer swinging up to hit, perhaps, a head, like those of the child sacrificial victims of the Incas whom I mentioned in my discussion of the previous poem–is just another symbol of violence in these poems. Boulez would condemn to either a metaphorical hanging, a blow to the head, or a knifing, all those musical imitators, those who won’t try to produce something truly new in music.

Now that “instinctive load of granite” that’s thrown by the pendulum could be of the material used to build the “Stately Building” of the third poem, where we’re heading now.

Could the words “I hear marching in my legs” be those of the condemned, hanged man…that is, his spirit after having been killed? “The dead sea waves overhead” suggest a drowning man looking up at them. The “child” on “the wild seaside pier” seems to be looking down at the drowning “Man the imitated illusion,” because the child, with his “pure eyes,” is alive, above the water, in being natural and original, not imitating anyone, as the drowned, hanged, or sacrificed ones do. The child, in his wild naïveté, has not yet been corrupted by an illusory society of imitation.

Perhaps the condemned hear marching in their legs because they refuse to admit they lack the originality that Boulez insists they must have to justify their existence. The condemned imagine they have the needed originality, so they must still be alive; and yet, those “Pure eyes in the woods,” the natural world where creativity is real, original, and not a mere imitation of past art, “are searching in tears for a habitable head,” that is, those pure eyes weep over how difficult it is to find an original head worthy of living in.

Those judgmental hangmen are truly in solitude, lonely executioners, for they can find no kindred spirits who want to join them in their avant-garde experimentation. Small wonder Boulez had fallings-out with not only Messiaen, but also fellow avant-gardists John Cage and Karlheinz Stockhausen. Boulez must have had many presentiments about the beautiful buildings his peers were making around him–never experimental enough for his so lofty standards.

III: The Music

I’ll start by making some general observations.

Just as both the surrealist text and the serialist music of Le Marteau are unconventional, so is the choice of instrumentation. Boulez’s choice of vibraphone, xylorimba, guitar, and percussion suggest anything but Western classical tradition. Rather, they suggest African and Far Eastern music: the vibraphone is like the Balinese gendèr; the xylorimba, the African balaphone; and the guitar, the Japanese koto. None of this is to imply, however, that Boulez was trying to imitate these musical styles.

Now, this mixing of East and West implies that Le Marteau has a universal quality to it; that paradoxically, while its experimental post-war modernism may be alienating to many in the audience, this implicit mixture of European and non-European cultures makes it a music for everyone.

Tied to this idea of universality in the choice of instruments is how the voice and instruments also comprise a continuum of sonorities. This continuum ranges from the fluid, legato sound of the voice and alto flute, on the one side, to the staccato, percussive sounds of the xylorimba and drums, on the other side.

This continuum could be heard thus: the voice and alto flute (breath); then the viola, which coupled with the flute represent monody; then the guitar, coupled with the viola when played pizzicato, provide plucked strings; then we have the long resonances given by the guitar and vibraphone; and the struck keys of the vibraphone and xylorimba mesh with the striking of the frame drum and bongos. This continuum of one extreme of sound to the other, with every intermediate sound, thus represents another kind of musical universality in that it includes, in a sense, every kind of sound.

The “Furious Craftsmanship” cycle, or movements I, III, and VII, uses this tone row, according to Lev Koblyakov: 3 5 2 1 10 11 9 0 8 4 7 6, though Ulrich Mosch argues that this sequence is really the inversion of the basic set. In any case, this tone row is grouped into five sets according to five rotations of the pattern 2-4-2-1-3 (one must recall Boulez’s mathematical predisposition); so the first rotation would be 3 5-2 1 10 11-9 0-8-4 7 6, for example. The other groupings of the row would then be 4-2-1-3-2, 2-1-3-2-4, 1-3-2-4-2, and 3-2-4-2-1, with the second rotation being 3 5 2 1-10 11-9-0 8 4-7 6, for example.

In the “Hangmen of Solitude” cycle, that is, movements II, IV, VI, and VIII, Boulez associates particular pitches with particular durations, as Steven D. Winick observed. So C gets a sixteenth note, C-sharp gets an eighth note, D gets a dotted eighth note, etc.; in other words, as the pitch rises by a half-step, so does the associated duration increase by a sixteenth note.

As if all of this weren’t complicated enough, Boulez occasionally swaps the durations of a couple pitches, this being an example of his wish to employ what is called “local indiscipline,” which allows for some freedom and flexibility, or “a freedom to choose, to decide and to reject,” as Boulez himself said. As a result of such complexities and variations, it can be virtually impossible for the listener to decipher all of these serializations.

Along with coordinating serialized pitches and durations, he also assigns dynamics and attacks similarly. Starting on D, with its dotted eighth note, Boulez groups pairs of rising chromatic pitches six times (D and D-sharp, E and F, F-sharp and G, etc.), and he assigns a dynamic to each pair, from pp to ff.

What’s more, the first note within a pair gets a particular attack–legato for p and pp, accent for mf and mp, and sforzando for f and ff. Yet again, while these are largely discernible enough to be understood as deliberate, he complicates matters further with his use of “local indiscipline.”

The ninth and final movement is in a number of ways an amalgam of the previous movements. It’s broken up into three large sections, the first of which includes variations of quotations from the central movements of all three cycles (III, V, and VII, but in reverse order), as well as repeating the text from the fifth movement. Also, all of IX’s tempi are taken from previous movements.

IV: Conclusion

So, while all of this music is so meticulously planned, to the untrained ear, it sounds like an atonal, arrhythmic chaos of dissonance. There is a dialectical relationship between this precise planning and the ‘chaos’ that it seems like. As in all of total serialism, the arrangement of pitches, durations, dynamics, attacks, accents, etc., is all completely divorced from conventional notions of ‘expressivity.’ One cannot tap one’s toe to this music; it’s hard to hum the wide leaps that the contralto does in the piece. Yet Le Marteau is among Boulez’s most acclaimed works, and is considered a landmark of postwar twentieth-century music. People have connected with it, in spite of itself.

The music, in its impossible complexity, its planning to the minutest, most mathematical detail, and its seeming randomness, makes it a perfect counterpart to the text, with its surreal expression of the unconscious mind. Like the unconscious, the music is a mystery that takes a long time to unravel. How the unconscious expresses itself, hiding in plain sight and coming out in such forms as seemingly nonsensical dreams and parapraxes, seems random and meaningless; but a skilled, patient psychoanalyst can go through all of these seemingly inexplicable expressions and find meaning in them, just as a music analyst can find order in Le Marteau.

This is why I say that the music of Le Marteau is symbolic of the unconscious mind, verbally expressed, like the talking cure, through the three Char poems. In Lacanian language, the music represents the inexpressible, undifferentiated, traumatic world of the Real, while the text represents the verbalized world of the Symbolic.

Boulez, in so painstakingly working out the character of every note (pitch, duration, dynamic, attack, instrumentation, etc.), is in a musical sense making the unconscious conscious. Unlike all the other composers he had such disdain for, those who were, in his opinion, just mindlessly following in the clichéd footsteps of their previous followers of even more clichéd music, Boulez broke with tradition and with unconscious instinct (i.e., the tapping of the toes, the humming of a flowing melody). He would have nothing to do with “the dial of imitation”; he would have no society with “Man the imitated illusion,” for in his opinion, the imitation of previous art is the illusion of art.

The irony of the mallets hitting the keys of the vibraphone and xylorimba, and of the sticks hitting the drums in his piece–those ‘hammers without masters’ striking irregular rhythms (indeed, a casual look at the score will reveal changes in time signature with almost every, if not absolutely every, bar)–is that each tap is planned with fussy attention to detail. Those hammers really are with masters.

‘Gaya,’ a Surreal Adventure–Chapter Six

The separate groups reached Gaya’s shoulders and began their descent along her arms. Anticipation was high as they all wondered what new fighting skills they were to learn when they were in the chambers of her hands.

They all stopped about midway along the tunnels of her upper arms when they heard two male voices from above:

SothatisthegreatandfamousGayaWeld,pornstarextraordinaire?
Yes,itis,andshe’sallyoursforanhourfortwohundredbucks
Hereyouare,buddy
Thankyou,andherearetherules.Nohittingher,nobiting,andnoscratching.Shecan’thaveamarkonher,anywhereonthatbeautifulbody,’causeifthereis,anursewho’smoreofagirlscoutthanI’lleverbeaboyscoutnursewilltelleveryoneandwe’llbothbeinshit.Here,letmegiveyousomething.
Lube?
Yeah,incaseshe’sdry.Soaslongasyouremembertherules–don’thurtheratall–havefun.I’llbebackinanhour.
OK.

The troops still didn’t have the slightest clue about what was said about Gaya by the two gods, but they all had an instinct that told them it wasn’t anything good.

“I have a feeling that the gods are about to punish us, for some reason,” Tesel said with a frown. “I don’t know why, but I just have that feeling.”

The soldiers soon found that their instincts were correct, for they felt a few shakes, like the beginning of an earthquake. Then the shakes became regular, even rhythmic.

Back and forth, and back and forth, everything around the troops shook…and they were forceful, violent shakes, throwing the fighters in the air and making them all crash on the floor, only to be thrown again, back in the opposite direction, and forward again. Back and forth.

The thrusts forward were particularly violent, tossing the fighters further ahead than the being thrown back, so hitting the ground when going forward was harder than when thrown back. Fighters often fell on the backs of those in front of them when going forward, and when they were thrown back, they fell on the chests and bellies of those behind them.

In between this flying back and forth, Tesel, Lia, and Fil tried to give commands to cope with the problem.

“Can we try…Oh!…to grab onto anything…Ah!…the walls…Ooh!…the ground…Unh!…the ceiling!” Lia asked.

“Let’s try it…Ah!” Fil shouted.

The soldiers tried to grab onto the sides of the tunnels, but generally couldn’t. They just grabbed onto other soldiers, irritating each other in the process.

The shaking back and forth was getting faster and faster, making even fragments of conversation impossible.

Tesel wanted to tell his men to try to huddle up side by side, with men on the extreme left and right squeezed so tightly against the walls of the tunnel that the men would be stuck, and therefore, the shakes wouldn’t throw them anymore. He couldn’t, however, communicate the idea to his troops because the gaps in between the shakes back and forth had become far too brief to get a word in. All anyone could do was put up with the accelerated shaking, and hope it would end soon.

After another few minutes of the ordeal, the shaking suddenly stopped.

All the warriors just lay there on the ground for several minutes, alert, eyes wide open, waiting for the next shake and hoping it would never happen. Their hearts were pounding the whole time, they were sore all over, and they were breathing heavily.

During that time, they heard a few loud moans from high above.

“It seems to be over,” Tesel said, then he got up.

All the warriors finally rose to their feet. They rubbed themselves everywhere they were sore.

“Do you think the gods were angry with us?” Lia asked Fil.

“I don’t know what we could have done to anger them,” he said, “but they sure fucked us over.”

“That seems true, in too literal a sense for comfort,” she said. “If anything good came of that, at least we’re a bit closer to our destination.”

“That slight bend in the tunnel must be the elbow,” Tesel said to his men. “We’ll soon reach Gaya’s hands. Let’s carry on.”

They all continued down the arms.