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Hen/hun - geen reclame voor de Taalunie

2011-10-13T20:11:00.002+02:00

Tijdens een discussie over de vraag of Vlamingen wel goede vertalers kunnen zijn werd mijn aandacht eens gevestigd op het feit dat 'hun' in het Nederlands ook wel eens wordt gebruikt voor het indirect object. In de volksmond ook wel het ‘meewerkend voorwerp’, maar eigenlijk bestaan er meer soorten indirecte objecten dan het meewerkend voorwerp alleen. Jawel er bestaat het meewerkend voorwerp, het belanghebbend, het ondervindend, het possessief en het ethisch. Meewerkend kennen we allemaal, belanghebbend is wat we met ‘voor’ ook zouden kunnen uitdrukken, ondervindend is wat iets als gevoel ondervindt (‘De woorden ontglipten hem’), het possessief is een vreemde uitdrukking die bezit uitdrukt zonder bezittelijk voornaamwoord (soms te vervangen door ‘bij’: De wind blies (bij) hem in het gezicht.) en ethisch: Dat is me wat.

Volgens mijn [I]Taalboek[/I], van de heren Smedts en Van Belle, beide professoren aan de KULeuven, wordt ‘hun’ ‘traditioneel als meewerkend en belanghebbend voorwerp’ gebruikt. Dat is dus simpel: ‘We schenken hun een glas jenever in’ (belanghebbend) en ‘We geven hun een klap.’ (meewerkend) Maar het is nog altijd ‘De woorden ontglipten hen’ (ondervindend), ‘De wind blies hen in het gezicht’ (possessief) en ‘Dat was hen daar wat moois’ (ethisch). [I]Onze Taal[/I] breidt de regel nog vrolijk uit door ‘hun’ ook nog te adviseren in sommige van de laatste drie gevallen (je moet [I]hun[/I] immers kunnen vervangen door voorzetsel + hen). Bij hen wordt het dus misschien ‘De wind blies hun in het gezicht’ (als de spreker vindt dat hij daar ‘bij’ kan tussenwurmen), maar het wordt wel zeker ‘Dat schoot hun in het verkeerde keelgat’, want het is toch zeker ook ‘Dat schoot bij hen in het verkeerde keelgat.’ Dus het possessief voorwerp is opeens ook maar ‘hun’ geworden. Helemaal gek wordt het als we de Taalunie erbij halen. Zij houden het bij het meewerkend, belanghebbend en ondervindend voorwerp,die het van hun moeten hebben. Dus het wordt zeker ‘De woorden ontglipten hun,’ terwijl dat door mijn twee professoren nog werd aanzien als iets anders. Ze lijken het er zelf niet over eens te zijn. Daarom dus dat [I]Onze Taal[/I] zo lief is ons ook nog een lijst met honderden werkwoorden te verschaffen zodat we allemaal zonder twijfel hun en hen zonder fouten kunnen gebruiken.

Waar komt dat probleem nu vandaan? Het is duidelijk dat niemand echt goed weet waar het probleem zit en wat nu net het juiste gebruik van hun en hen is. Raar maar waar, het concept van hen/hun werd bedacht door één man in 1625: Christiaan Van Heule. Hij was wiskundige en wetenschapper en natuurlijk ook Latinist zoals zoveel geleerden uit zijn tijd. Dus, zoals nog menig ander linguïst uit zijn tijd (ook over het Kanaal) vond hij dat het Nederlands toch zeker ook naamvallen of ‘gevallen’ moest kennen. Jammer genoeg bestonden die naamvallen niet en moest hij zich in bochten wringen om er toch maar bewijzen voor te vinden. Zo prijst hij de genitief aan als ‘van + substantief’. Het behoeft geen betoog dat een genitief niet simpelweg een voorzetsel van + substantief nodig heeft om genitief genoemd te worden, noch kennen we een vocatief in het Nederlands. Toen al niet, maar de man ging dus vrolijk door en stelde het woordje ‘hun’ voor als datief voor het voornaamwoord ‘zij’ meervoud. ‘Hen’ vond hij dan meer geschikt voor de accusatief. Een mens kan daarmee leven, ware het niet dat ondertussen het Systeem Van Heule is gereduceerd tot het gebruik van ‘hun’ in de enkele gevallen hierboven aangegeven. De vraag is natuurlijk ook of de heer Van Heule wel goed de draagwijdte van zijn eigen regel kende. Zou hij gezegd hebben ‘Het is hun teveel’ of ‘Het is hen teveel.’?

Eigenlijk kennen we dus voor het meewerkend, belanghebbend en ondervindend voorwerp de datief en voor het possessief en ethisch voorwerp de accusatief. Dat is hoogst vreemd te noemen, want er is geen enkele taal waar het indirect object door verschillende naamvallen wordt bediend. Nederlands zou hiermee alleen staan. Nog vreemder wordt het echter, als we weten dat het possessief voorwerp ook als possessieve datief en het ethisch voorwerp als ethische datief worden aangeduid. In het Duits worden ze natuurlijk ook als datief verbogen: ‘Der Wind blies ihm ins Gesicht,’ en ‘Es war ihm zu laut.’ Dat is logisch want de ethische datief komt alleen voor bij koppelwerkwoorden, waarbij traditioneel wat als lijdend voorwerp kan bestempeld worden deel is van het naamwoordelijk gezegde en in de nominatief wordt verbogen. Het is immers te koppelen met het onderwerp (vandaar het woord ‘koppelwerkwoord’). Er kan dus geen accusatiefverbuiging gebruikt worden voor de ethische datief, zelfs niet als de Taalunie dat feitelijk voorschrijft, want het is eenvoudigweg taalkundige nonsens.

Bovendien moeten we nog opmerken dat ‘zij’ het enige persoonlijke voornaamwoord is dat zulke datief kent, want ik, jij, hij, zij (sing), wij en jullie hebben dat niet. Zou ‘zij’ (pl) dan het enige zijn in onze taal dat zo’n onderscheid kent? Nederlands zou ook de enige taal zijn waar het indirect object twee naamvallen kent, iets wat zelfs in oudere talen niet voorkomt. En we zouden iets dat datief genoemd wordt gaan verbuigen als een accusatief… Dat is toch wel heel vreemd, of is er toch ergens een klepel die in de verkeerde klok hangt?

Waarschijnlijk wel.

Daarom zijn de Taalunie, noch [I]Onze Taal[/I], noch de ANS, noch mijn twee professoren het eens over hetzelfde fenomeen en verkiest nagenoeg elke spreker in de praktijk ‘hen’ als algemeen objectvoornaamwoord, zoals in het Engels dus.

Rare jongens, die Nederlandssprekers.

What Prince Harry said to his brother William while waiting for the bride

2011-04-29T12:31:00.007+02:00

Someone could obviously not keep his curiosity under control while Kate was walking down the aisle, but more than look round, Prince Harry said something to his brother William...

"Wait until you see what she's got on."

That made me laugh.

I admire William for not looking round at all at that point.

Prince Harry, there are people who can lip read in this world, but fun must be had by all, including you and your brother. And admittedly, she really did look stunning, sorry, still looks stunning at this moment.

:)

Hema, Randstad en hun hoofddoek

2011-03-10T12:38:00.003+01:00

Eergisteren werd in België, Genk meerbepaald, een vrouw ontslagen bij winkelketen Hema voor het dragen van een hoofddoek tijden de werkuren. Wel ontslagen… laten we zeggen dat de winkel een storm van reacties had ontvangen waardoor Hema zich genoodzaakt zag Randstad te vragen de uitzendkracht met haar hoofddoek niet meer terug te sturen. Het ging hier zelfs om een Vlaamse vrouw die zich had bekeerd tot de Islam en sinds vijf jaar, naar ik begrijp, begonnen was met het dragen van een hoofddoek. Ze had al in Antwerpen gewerkt met die hoofddoek en nu, na haar huwelijk, in Genk. Hema wist dan ook nog te zeggen in een persbericht, waarschijnlijk wat beduusd, dat diezelfde hoofddoek geen probleem vormde in Nederland, maar dat Hema zich aanpast aan het land waar het zich vestigt. Het is zelfs zo dat Hema zijn eigen hoofddoeken heeft, met Hema-logo. Alsof die winkelketen dan moet worden aangeklaagd voor racisme.

Ik wil het hier niet hebben over het onrecht dat Hema en Randstad deze vrouw aandoen. Het zijn zij niet die een probleem hebben. Uiteindelijk moet een winkel klanten hebben, want dat is zijn essentie. Als al die klanten worden afgeschrikt door die ene hoofddoek, dan zij het zo, dan moet die hoofddoek maar weg, zo simpel is dat. Ook al is het dan enorm wraakroepend. Randstad kan evenmin veel verweten worden vermits zij een klant hebben: Hema, en die klant bepaalt nog altijd Randstads inkomen. Dus, zelfde geval als Hema: de hoofddoek moet eruit, of moet toch wachten tot er een andere klant komt die die hoofddoek geen probleem vindt, wat tot nu toe niet zo gemakkelijk is gebleken. Vandaar natuurlijk het grote probleem in de uitzendsector, al aangekaart vorig jaar, dat vreemdelingen in het algemeen worden gediscrimineerd.

Wie er wel een probleem heeft is de Vlaming zelf. De hoofddoek lijkt wel een rode lap op een stier. "Ocharme die vrouw, die wordt verdrukt, we moeten haar bevrijden, ze moet en zal die hoofddoek afzetten." Vrijheid, blijheid. Vrijheid in de zin van het neo-liberalisme: we mogen niet langer vrij zijn, we moeten het zijn. Zo erg dat we niet meer vrij zijn om vrij te zijn. Parlementsleden zoals Filip De Winter blaffen mensen af op de publiekstribune van het parlement omdat ze een hoofddoek aanhebben. Ze zouden geen respect hebben voor het parlement en de neutraliteit van de staat! Maar sinds wanneer is de burger in een neutrale staat al even neutraal als de staat zelf? Sinds wanneer is de leerling in een staatsschool al even onreligieus als de school zelf? Dat gaat niet op en het is belachelijk. De neutraliteit van de staat is er alleen om de burger te beschermen tegen discriminatie op basis van religie/filosofie/principes van staatswege, in de rechtbank bijvoorbeeld (“Oh, u bent katholiek, dan moet u dubbel zoveel boete betalen voor uw parkeerovertreding als die vrijzinnige liberaal die naast u staat.”), niet om die principes van neutraliteit op te leggen, want dan is de staat niet langer neutraal en maakt ze zich schuldig aan hetzelfde als paradoxaal genoeg, Saoedi-Arabië. Zelfs parlementsleden zouden buiten die neutraliteit moeten vallen. Jawel, ze mogen naar de kerk, ze mogen van de daken schreeuwen dat ze socialist, vrijzinnig of ecologist zijn. Waarom niet? Moest dat niet mogen, dan kunnen we het parlement afschaffen. Het is een illusie te denken dat eender welk mens neutraal is in zijn denken. Het is gewoon onmogelijk.

Recent rees het idee bij mijn man en mij van misschien voor een aantal jaar naar Saoedi-Arabië te trekken. Niet voor het weer of de fantastische mensen, natuurlijk, maar voor een rijkelijk belastingvrij inkomen daar. Omdat ik wel wat meer wilde weten over die grote boze wolf, heb ik wat gelezen over dat land, en over de principes die ze er hanteren. Ik kreeg recent ook een boek van mijn vader, meer bepaald de Caïro-trilogie van Naguib Mahfouz, uitgegeven bij De Geus. Het is interessant om te zien hoe die maatschappij werkt, met een strikte scheiding tussen de seksen, wat wij wraakroepend vinden, maar toch niet zozeer anders en ongelukkiger voor die mensen, me dunkt.

I.v.m. Tussen Twee Paleizen verbaasde het mij van bij het begin dat er wel naar vrouwen wordt gekeken, wordt gedronken, wordt gerookt, drugs al dan niet. Zolang het binnenskamers gebeurt, is er niets aan de hand. Ook niet in Saoedi-Arabië nu. Er zijn geen kerken en er mogen geen religieuze symbolen binnen behalve Islamitische, maar wat u doet in uw huis, is uw probleem. We moeten dan wel een kanttekening maken bij de zedenpolitie, die zich, zelfs naar moslimstandaarden, meer permitteert dan ze eigenlijk mag. Zo is er de hoofddoek. Er is voorgeschreven in de Saoedische wet dat vrouwen zo’n lange jas aanmoeten, een kabaya, die hun lichaam bedekt behalve hun haar. Er staat niet in de wet, paradoxaal genoeg, dat ze een hoofddoek aanmoeten. Westerlingen kunnen dan ook wegkomen zonder hoofddoek rond te lopen in minder conservatieve delen van het land zoals Jeddah… totdat ze iemand van de zedenpolitie tegenkomen die hen opdraagt hun hoofd te bedekken. Niemand die die vrouw heeft gelyncht daarvoor, ook Saoedi’s niet.

Alhoewel Tussien Twee Paleizen in Egypte speelt en niet in Saoedi-Arabië, mogen we veronderstellen dat prostitutie en drinken evenveel immoreel zijn als in Saoedi-Arabië. Toch schrijft Mahfouz met verbazende normaliteit over minnaressen, dronkenschap, wijn en schrijft hij over de boezem en billen van vrouwen alsof ze waren gekleed in een topje en een jeans. Het is wat vreemd voor mij om dat te zien. Ik had het idee, zoals zovelen met mij waarschijnlijk, dat moslimvrouwen losse kleren moeten dragen om hun figuur te verhullen zodanig dat ze mannen niet kunnen verlijden. Als dat zo was, dan was dat een wat nutteloze operatie. Het is zelfs nog erger als de vrouw des huizes in het boek voor de eerste keer in haar leven een sluier aantrekt om de eerste keer in veertig jaar buiten te komen:

“[…]het was de eerste keer dat ze een sluier droeg, waarin de bevallige lijnen van haar figuur, die gewoonlijk door de wijde gilbaabs werden verhuld, goed uitkwamen.”

Het is toch wel vreemd dat wij die sluier zien als iets dat ons figuur wegneemt, terwijl het hier als iets moois wordt beschreven. Haar kleed binnenshuis is dan ook minder aantrekkelijk dan dat buitenshuis… Dan moet er wat mis zijn met onze perceptie in plaats van die van onze Egyptische vriend. Ofwel is het een boodschap van Mahfouz die duidelijk maakt dat het innerlijk van de mens - de mensen in het huis over wie gewaakt wordt door de man des huizes sajjid Ahmed - gewoon mens is en diezelfde mens pas mooi of lelijk is als hij een jas krijgt en zich naar buiten toe profileert. Het is inderdaad zo dat de mensen in het huis nooit buiten komen, of toch de meisjes niet. Waarschiinlijk uit schrik dat ze zich ook zullen verliezen in drank en de goede dingen van het leven, zoals sajjid Ahmed zelf. Het is inderdaad zo dat sajjid Ahmed alwetend is, zoals Allah, en dat de enige keer dat zijn vrouw Amina zich buiten waagt ze verwond raakt door een auto. De wereld is veel veiliger binnen en een mens moet beschermd worden tegen die lelijke invloeden. En dat is nu net wat men in Saoedi-Arabië probeert en wat wij proberen te doen in de westerse wereld door de hoofddoek te bannen. We denken dat we moslimterrorisme een halt toeroepen door de hoofddoek te verbieden, in Saoedi-Arabië denken ze zonde in het algemeen een halt toe te roepen door alles te verbieden. Hoe simplistisch kan een mens beginnen denken?

De reden waarom hoofddoeken en meer extremere vormen ervan zoals boerka’s en konsoorten, in zwang zijn gekomen is zelfs Islamspecialisten niet duidelijk. Het lijkt een later gebruik te zijn. De eerste sluiers zouden gedragen zijn door de vrouwen van de profeet Mohammed zelf en zouden dan, bij wijze van eerbetoon, zijn gedragen door vrouwen van stand die het zich konden veroorloven hele dagen gesluierd rond te lopen zonder er nadeel of hinder van te ondervinden (zoals boerenvrouwen bijvoorbeeld).

In het vele materiaal dat ik tot nu toe gelezen heb over Saoedi-Arabië in combinatie met Mahfouz en de Koran zelf (die Mahfouz vaak aanhaalt), is mij één ding opgevallen: de Koran en de principes die eruit voortkomen zijn heel erg transcendent en ietwat te vergelijken met die van de Quakers, alhoewel die laatsten Christenen zijn. Hoewel er tegenwoordig ook agnostische Quakers en ja, zelfs Islamitische Quakers, bestaan. Quakers zijn puriteins, maar op een vrijere manier dan andere godsdiensten, als we het een godsdienst kunnen noemen. Ze zijn de enige puriteinen (als dat al een respectabele term voor hen is) die abortus aan de vrouw zelf over laten en die niets tegen euthanasie hebben, ze oordelen niet want dat is alleen Gods rol. Hun benadering is een van de juiste morele weg volgen, niet wat wel of niet mag, en al zeker niet opgelegd door een of andere bisschop of paus. In die zin staan ze dicht bij de Islam. Ze hechten bijzonder veel belang aan vrede, gelijkheid, integriteit en eenvoud. Dit dan wel zo ver dat ze de eerste winkeliers waren die een vaste prijs hadden voor hun koopwaar, daar dat getuigde van eerlijkheid en eenvoud. De ene klant was namelijk dezelfde als de andere en moest dan ook niet minder of niet meer betalen dan zijn voorganger. Integriteit ook als het moeilijk is te zeggen wat je denkt tegen een vriend. Eerlijk duurt het langst, is inderdaad hun leuze. Enz. De liefdadisheid die moslims opgedragen wordt (het afgeven van een deel van hun inkomen aan de armen) is daar om Allah te danken voor de rijkdom die Hij de persoon heeft verschaft en die te delen met de minder gelukigge mensen in de wereld. De Ramadan is er om na te denken over onze eigen lusten en onze eigen wil. Ramadan heeft niets te maken met alleen het zeichzelf ontzeggen van voedsel, maar ook met geen ruzie maken en alle potentiële zonden die een mens kan begaan. De maand brengt een mens dichter bij Allah en dichter bij zichzelf, de creatie van Allah. Islam, voor zover ik het begrijp, propageert een levenswijze voor de mens die doordringt tot in zijn dagelijks leven zoals de Quakers, en die moet zorgen voor innerlijke rust. Een mens moet eerst en vooral innerlijk een goed mens zijn, dus drugs en alcohol… ze leiden af van God en dus zijn ze verkeerd. We kunnen dan ook begrijpen waarom alcohol verboden is voor moslims. Een moslim in Engeland zal inderdaad liever hebben dat zijn kinderen geen alcohol aanraken dan dat ze in de goot liggen. Dat er in Saoedi-Arabië de doodstraf wordt gevraagd voor alcohol- en drugssmokkel is dan ook niet te verbazen. Alcohol en drugs zijn een kwaad en dat kwaad moet koste wat het kost uit de maatschappij geweerd worden. Niet dat er geen alcohol te krijgen is… op de zwarte markt of in Bahrein, maar je kan het best niet vragen op de hoek van de straat of het van de daken schreeuwen.

En nu komen we bij het Hijab-principe. Nee, het is geen soort hoofddoek alleen, het is het algemene principe van bescheidenheid. Het wordt ten andere ook aan mannen voorgeschreven en draagt beide seksen op zich bescheiden te kleden, zoals de Quakers. Niets mag afleiden van Gods werk: de mens. Hij is niet zijn uiterlijk alleen. Dus mannen en vrouwen lopen rond in dezelfde kledij, weinig interessant. Alleen binnenshuis zullen ze iets aantrekken dat van Zara komt. Interessant, zeg nu zelf.

Een Saoedische man, en bij uitbreiding een moslimman, zal nooit (of zou toch niet moeten) met een vreemde vrouw alleen zijn. Dat is ongepast. Niet in een taxi (paradoxaal genoeg), niet ergens anders. Van de ene kant, als westerse vrouw, vind ik dat wat vreemd, maar van de andere kant is dat niet zo vreemd. Het is geen blijk van te weinig respect, eerder van teveel. Er zou eens iets moeten gebeuren waardoor beide mensen toegeven aan hun lusten. Lusten horen niet thuis in een goed moreel mens. Ze zijn een deel van het huwelijk en daarmee basta. Mogelijke verlokking is de eerste stap op de immorele weg, en dus is het verkeerd. Dus, totale scheiding van de seksen, dat is de gemakkelijkste manier om ontucht tegen te gaan. Vergelijk het met het chaperonneren van ongetrouwde meisjes vroeger. Niet omdat we de meisjes niet vertrouwden, maar omdat een man niet te vertrouwen was; omdat een man moest goedgekeurd zijn voor hij een vinger naar het meisje uitstak. In onze maatschappij van nu is de scheiding der seksen wel een probleem. We vinden dat vrouwen gelijk zijn aan mannen en daarmee basta en dat moet tot uiting komen aan de buitenkant. We moeten dezelfde dingen mogen, we moeten in het parlement, we moeten in de beheerraad van bedrijven zetelen. In een moslimmaatschappij zijn vrouwen ook gelijk, alleen niet aan de oppervlakte. Ze mogen rijkdom hebben en beheren, al sinds mensenheugenis. Dat mochten vrouwen niet in Europa tot de eeuwwisseling. Bij scheiding houden ze de kinderen tot ongeveer hun tiende jaar. Ook onbestaande in Europa tot de eeuwwisseling. Nu worden kinderen ondertussen heen en weer gesleurd tussen de ouders en zelfs tussen scholen. Want co-ouderschap. Niemand vraagt zich af wat het kind zelf daarvan vindt. Vrouwen en mannen mogen scheiden, dat is ook al een stap in de goede richting. Scheiden kon namelijk lang niet in de westerse maatschappij, en als het dan kon werden de kinderen resoluut aan de man toegewezen. Daarna dan weer aan de vrouw. De vader, arme man, had bezoekrecht van een dag om de twee weken. Alsof de vader niet belangrijk is in het leven van een kind. In de moslimwereld heeft mevrouw het recht de kinderen te houden zolang ze hun moeder nodig hebben, en daarna gaan ze naar de man en de vrouw heeft het recht ze te zien en te spreken. Onbestaande in Europa voor heel lang. En ja, als een vrouw overspel pleegt wordt ze gestenigd, maar overspel is iets immoreels. Het is niet omdat wij, als westerse maatschappij immorele daden accepteren dat een staat als Saoedi-Arabië dat moet. Als de staat Saoedi-Arabië zo graag een moreel bastion wil zijn, dan kunnen ze dat in ieder geval maar best afdwingen.

Zover ik het begrijp is elke immorele daad, of het stelen, liegen of overspel is, een zonde tegen het mensdom zelf en die wordt, onder de sharia bestraft, heel erg zelfs. Het is begrijpelijk, als het hoogste goed het redden van de ziel van ieder mens is, dat zulke slechte invloeden streng bestraft worden. Het is ook niet zo dat de mensen die zulke dingen doen niet weten wat eraan vast hangt. Jammer genoeg zouden ze in Saoedi-Arabië wel eens moeten leren dat de politie niet altijd gelijk heeft, maar fouten gebeuren nu eenmaal. Nog altijd worden mensen in de VS geëxecuteerd op basis van weinig bewijs. Dan kunnen we dat niet beter noemen. West-Europa verhangt dan wel weer geen mensen meer voor moord, maar het aantal moorden is er wel groter dan in Saoedi-Arabië, dat in de top 30 van landen in de wereld met de minste moorden komt. De vraag is of de straf de mensen niet afschrikt.

Maar dat hoogste goed: de morele mens komt ook terug in die hoofddoek en het huwelijk zelf. Het huwelijk wordt niet gevormd door de bruid en bruidegom in kwestie die op elkaar verliefd worden en, zoals bij ons, komen vertellen aan hun ouders dat ze gaan trouwen, wat die er ook van mogen vinden. Nee, het huwelijk is een contract tussen twee families en de twee partners in kwestie hebben elkaar soms zelfs niet gezien. Goede huwelijksbemiddelaarsters (geen mannen natuurlijk, want die mogen niet alleen zijn met vreemde vrouwen) brengen twee mensen samen die bij elkaar passen, zoals de Indiërs dat nu ook nog doen. Niet op ‘hoe ziet hij eruit’, maar op ‘wie past er bij hem/haar’. Het was zelfs verbazend te lezen in Mahfouz’ boek dat er zelfs weinig over het uiterlijk wordt gedacht. Natuurlijk wil het meisje in kwestie zich wel opmaken voor de huwelijksbemiddelaarsters, maar als er dan een aanzoek komt gaat het de familie niet om ‘hoe komt hij er voor’. Zoals bij de Quakers wordt een huwelijk dus gevormd op basis van karakter en op basis van de families die het erover eens zijn. Een vrouw kan ten andere ook weigeren als ze er niet mee instemt. Dan kunnen we wel zeggen dat het wat neerbuigend is een huwelijk te regelen voor een vrouw of man, maar van de andere kant zijn er genoeg voorbeelden van huwelijken die slecht gaan ondanks het feit dat de partners er zelf voor kozen (het laatste voorbeeld is Brigitta Callens en haar man. Het huwelijk hield drie maanden stand). Van de andere kant zijn er natuurlijk ook slechte paren, gevormd door dit soort huwelijksbemiddeling, maar dat is geen reden om deze praktijk radicaal af te wijzen, evenmin als het mislukken van liefdeshuwelijken in het westen er een is om maar weer terug te gaan naar het gearrangeerde huwelijk. Beide hebben hun voor- en nadelen.

In de westerse wereld van vandaag zijn wij vrouwen gelijk: we mogen alles dat mannen mogen, maar aan de andere kant moeten we ook vanalles dat vast hangt aan die gelijkheid. We mogen niet langer werken, we moeten een carrière hebben, we moeten geld verdienen – of we het nu nodig hebben om ons huis af te betalen of niet, meestal jammer genoeg wel -, we moeten naar beter streven, we moeten autorijden… Een vrouw, of bij uitbreiding man, die dat alles niet wil en thuis wil blijven voor haar/zijn kinderen kan ofwel niet om financiële redenen ofwel krijgt die commentaar van mensen die niet begrijpen hoe een mens een mens kan zijn zonder een volle agenda, een full-time job en een volle bankrekening die zorgt voor een enorm huis met een enorme kost en een prachtige designkeuken en misschien nog twee Toyota’s voor de deur… Het is onbegrijpelijk voor de meeste mensen waarom iemand zou verkiezen geen stress te hebben over wat er nog allemaal moet gedaan worden in het huishouden, rustig nog een boekje kan lezen in de namiddag, ’s morgens rustig zijn krant kan lezen, niet op zaterdag moet gaan winkelen met al de anderen… welke rust er neerdaalt zonder al dat gehaast van het ene naar het andere. Het is onbegrijpelijk, en dat heeft een vriendin zelf recent tegen mij gezegd, hoe het leuk kan zijn om geld te moeten vragen. Het ontgaat haar dan wel dat dat niet zozeer moet, dat een huisvrouw of –man ook over een eigen bankrekening en –kaart kan beschikken en dat hij/zij dan dat kleedje of pak zelf kan gaan kopen zonder daarom te moeten vragen. En zo hangt respect niet af van de rol van de partner, maar van hoe de ene partner door de ander wordt behandeld. In die zin is het dragen van een hoofddoek geen uiting van geen respect of onderdrukking zoals het dragen van een rok dat ook niet is. En ja, er is huiselijk geweld, dat is er in de westerse wereld ook. Het probleem is dat ook hier de vrijheid van het niet dragen van een hoofddoek tot een plicht is geworden. Vrouwen zijn niet gelijk omdat ze geen hoofddoek dragen, vrouwen zijn gelijk omdat ze gerespecteerd worden. Het feit dat mannen nog altijd het huishouden en de zorg voor de kinderen grotendeels overlaten aan hun vrouw, met minder vrije tijd voor mevrouw als resultaat, is veel erger dan het dragen van die hoofddoek. Aan de oppervlakte mogen we alles, en moeten we alles, maar het leven is meer dan de oppervlakte alleen.

De sluier en het aanhangend principe van bescheidenheid hebben daar naar mijn idee iets mee te maken. In moslimlanden wil men ten allen prijze vermijden dat mensen daar gehypnotiseerd raken door het uiterlijke, zoals moslima’s ook aangeven. Hun meest gehate vijand de VS is daar het symbool van. Niets is er echt, alles is er plastische chirurgie, met een kredietkaart gekocht geluk, etc. Dat willen ze niet, en de sluier zorgt ervoor dat mannen niet kunnen kijken naar de borsten en billen, lippen van een vrouw en kunnen verlijd worden tot verliefdheid in hun eigen zwakheid. Ze hebben fantasieën, dat wel, maar daar blijft het bij. Ze zullen ze moeten botvieren op hun vrouw thuis, die ze wel kunnen zien. Dat zorgt er dan natuurlijk wel voor dat een man alleen kan luisteren naar die vrouw en wat ze te zeggen heeft. Ik als vrouw moet mij dan ook niet druk maken over wat ik ga aandoen om buiten te komen omdat ik er goed wil uitzien voor de buurjongen. Het kan me worst wezen of mijn haar met krullen is of niet. Hetzelfde gaat voor die man die ik kan zien: hij is ook simpel gekleed, niet in een mooi Armani-pak etc, of dat zou toch niet mogen. Wat die man thuis aandoet weet ik niet en zal ik ook nooit weten als ik niet met hem trouw. Als ik bij hem thuis kom, zal ik bij de vrouwen plaatsnemen in een andere kamer. Van de ene kant lijkt dat een beetje eenzaam. Van de andere kant zijn er dan dingen waarover vrouwen het in detail kunnen hebben die mannen niet aangaan en die mannen zelfs niet fijn vinden. Als een vrouw een persoonlijk probleem heeft met haar man is het moeilijk daarover te praten als die man erbij is. Een westerse vrouw moet dan haar best doen een vriendin, haar moeder of wie dan ook apart te kunnen zien, zeker als haar man een controll freak is. Zelfs als een man in Saoedi een controll freak is, dan nog heeft ze de mogelijkheid met een vrouw onder vier ogen te spreken, gewoon omdat haar man of haar vader niet bij hen plaatsneemt tijdens het eten. In vergelijking met vrouwen in de westerse wereld die niet buiten kunnen komen omdat ze een jaloerse man hebben, is dat een opluchting. Zeggen dat mannen geen respect hebben voor vrouwen op basis van een hoofddoek alleen is onzin zoals het ook onzin is dat er wel respect is omdat ze geen hoofddoek dragen. In Afrika zijn er genoeg vrouwen zonder hoofddoek die worden verkracht. Dat is ook een feit.

Als we de mythe van Narcissus serieus nemen dan drukt die sluier twee dingen uit: ten eerste de uitroeiing van persoonlijke trots zodanig dat een mens anderen niet gaat minachten of vereren om hun uiterlijk en ten tweede het voorkomen van geobsedeerd te zijn met zijn eigen uiterlijk en het uiterlijk van anderen wat de aandacht afleidt van andere, belangrijker dingen, of de mens zelf en zijn innerlijk. Het is niet voor niets dat Narcissus afgeleid is van ‘narke’, slaap. Het is inderdaad zo dat een maatschappij die voor niets anders gaat dan voor uiterlijk wat ‘in slaap’ valt, zich niet meer kan concentreren op iets diepers en uiteindelijk wegzinkt in algemene onwetendheid. Wat maakt het inderdaad uit dat iemands haar kort of lang is, zijn gezicht vol puistjes staat of niet, hij dik of dun is, of (nu heel erg populair in de VS) welke vorm haar schaamlippen hebben? Zolang hij/zij maar wat te zeggen heeft is het fantastisch.

Als een vrouw dus ervoor kiest een hoofddoek te dragen, offert ze voor een deel het beeld op dat mensen van haar hebben, en dus ook een deel van haarzelf en haar ‘zelf’, ze nodigt een ander uit verder te kijken dan zijn neus lang is en dus doet ze iets wat tegen de tegenwoordige maatschappij ingaat. Zou het daarom zijn dat nog in 2004 vóór een hoofddoek werd actie gevoerd in de zaak Remmery en dat er, nu dat Facebook en alle oppervlakkige internetmedia zo alomtegenwoordig zijn, nu tégen een hoofddoek wordt actiegevoerd, of het ontslag van de vrouw in kwestie niet wordt in vraag gesteld? Zoals ene Nicholas Carr nog in De Standaard van gisteren zei wordt het lastiger diep na te denken hoe minder je het doet. Ik hoop dat ik verkeerd ben, maar ik vrees van niet. Het feit dat zelfs parlementsleden de neutraliteit van de staat aanhalen als een argument is een ernstig probleem. Het bewijst dat ze zelfs zulk een simpel denkproces al niet meer machtig zijn.

Vandaar dus die hoofddoek. Dus ja, het is een religieus symbool, maar het moet niet verboden worden, omdat:

1. het niet ingaat tegen de neutraliteit van de staat die er is om de burger tegen systematische discriminatie te beschermen;

2. de staat zich anders zelf schuldig maakt aan discriminatie wat niet de bedoeling kan zijn:

3. het ons uitnodigt een mens te zien en geen mooi mens alleen.

Maar laat nu juist het kijken voorbij de oppervlakte het grootste probleem zijn. Op meer dan een vlak.

Andere Erfgenamen van Uilenspiegel

2011-02-23T14:59:00.005+01:00

In zijn column Erfgenamen van Uilenspiegel komt Bart de Wever met het idee dat Vlaamse kunstenaars kleinburgerlijk zijn en gevangen zitten in ‘verstikkend eenheidsdenken’. Hij wil niet ‘gevaarlijker dan het Vlaams Belang’ genoemd worden.

Ik denk dat dat een reactie verdient.

Ik weet niet wat de heer De Wever denkt dat kunst moet zijn. Vanuit zijn pleidooi in De Standaard is het mij duidelijk geworden dat de man vindt dat kunstenaars ten eerste al sowieso veroordeeld zijn tot ‘wereldburgerschap, multiculturele verrijking en solidariteit’. Typisch het idee dat kunstenaars sowieso links van ideologie zijn. Ten tweede schijnt hij ook te vinden dat kunst op zich iets te maken heeft met culturele identiteit, vooral dan met taal. Wat kunnen we anders verwachten als iemand die behoort tot de NVA? Bij wijze van voorbeeld haalt hij Charles de Coster, Maurice Maeterlinck, Emile Verhaeren aan als schrijvers en uiters van een andere identiteit (ze zijn dan ook ‘vergeten’) en Jacques Brel als zanger en een voorbeeld van ‘fantoompijn’ bij de Franstalige Vlaamse elite toen de band met het Frans werd doorgeknipt. Ik denk dat de heer De Wever drie dingen verwart. Namelijk kunst op zichzelf, kunst die inherent met taal verbonden is, zoals literatuur en muziek, en kunst die een nationale identiteit uitdrukt.

Om ten eerste het idee al te counteren dat de schrijvers boven genoemd ‘vergeten ‘ zouden zijn… Ze zijn dan misschien ‘vergeten’ in de zin dat ze niet gezien worden als Vlaamse schrijvers op zich, maar ze zijn nog altijd heel sterk aanwezig op Wikipedia, in alle mogelijke talen, zelf niet alleen in het Frans. In het Engels, Croatisch, Spaans, Catalaans, Russisch, Arabisch, Esperanto en ga zo maar door. De ene al meer dan de andere. Het Engelse artikel kan dan nog door een Vlaamse fan geschreven zijn, maar Catalaans lijkt me moeilijker. Het lijkt niet dat die schrijvers, en niet alleen Maeterlinck die de Nobelprijs won, zowaar echt vergeten zijn. Als ze al vergeten zijn in Vlaanderen, zal dat zijn door het grote trauma dat ze Franstalig zijn en het feit dat we continu worden gebombardeerd met ‘de boze Waal en Franstalige Vlaming (verrader)’. Er is niets dat ons belet die mensen te lezen en te roemen om hun werk, zelfs als Vlaamse schrijver.

Literatuur (en haar verdienste) hangt niet samen met de taal waarin ze geschreven is, ze hangt samen met wat ze te zeggen heeft. Dat is bepalend voor haar kwaliteit. In die zin is het mogelijk voor een schrijver om in een taal te schrijven en een andere cultuur of een mix van twee/drie/vier:enz in zijn werk te beschrijven. Dat zal zeker zo zijn voor Afrikaanse Franstalige auteurs, of gaat de heer De Wever beweren dat die schrijvers die in het Frans publiceren ook Frans van cultuur zijn? Daarom is Camus werk interessant: het is getekend door het Frans-Algerijnse kolonialisme en is niet Frans-Frans.

Een goed voorbeeld hiervan is Joseph Conrad. Een Pool die pas vlot Engels sprak met een accent voorbij de twintig, bracht een facet in de Engelse literatuur dat niet Engels was, maar meer Slavisch. Hij wordt nochtans gezien als een van de groten, ondanks het feit dat hij niet Engels is. Zelfs in Polen is hij een ‘grote schrijver’ ondanks het feit dat hij in het Engels zijn boeken publiceerde. Het eerste bewijst dat Joseph Conrad nog steeds een Pool/Slaaf is en op een Slavische manier zijn ideeën uitdrukt, terwijl hij in het Engels schrijft. Er is dus geen reden behalve misplaatste trots om Maeterlinck en co te vergeten als Vlaams auteur omdat ze schreven in het Frans. Het tweede bewijst dat het mogelijk is om iemand als een nationaal kunstenaar te zien, zelfs als die zijn werk uitdrukt in een andere taal.

In de omgekeerde richting zijn er vreemde werkjes zoals van bijvoorbeeld E T A Hoffmann Das Fräulein von Scudéry dat geschreven is in het Duits, maar gaat over Mlle de Scudéry, ’s werelds eerste detectiveschrijfster, een Française en favoriete aan het hof van Louis XIV. Daar het geschreven is in het Duits, spreken de personages op een erg Duitse romantische manier, maar doen ze ook Duits. Ze reageren niet op dezelfde manier als een Frans boek hen zou laten reageren, zoals bijvoorbeeld bij Dumas. Dat geeft een vreemd gevoel. Zo gaat het ook bij Kleists Das Erdbeben in Chili. Een kortverhaal eigenlijk over de Franse Revolutie, maar gesymboliseerd door een aardbeving in Chili, met Chileense/Spaanse personages. Nog een voorbeeld is, eveneens Kleists, Die Marquise von O., een novelle die zich afspeelt in Italië met een aantal Italiaanse personages en een Rus. Al deze boekjes zijn een uiting van Duitse cultuur in die periode en een Duitse kijk op gebeurtenissen, zoals de Franse Revolutie, maar op een plaats die een andere cultuur heeft zoals Italië. Het is dus niet omdat iemand een boek schrijft in een andere taal dat hij een andere cultuur uitdrukt.
Zoals hierboven beweerd, hangt het af van het innerlijke van de kunstenaar welke cultuur die uitdrukt, niet van de buitenkant. Als de heer De Wever dus spreekt over ‘holle frasen’, dan kunnen we het niet helpen van eerder akkoord te gaan met Tom Lanoye dan met De Wever zelf. Wereldburgerschap is geen holle frase, maar essentieel als het aankomt op kunst. Een kunstenaar, als het een schrijver is, schrijft niet over wat er in zijn straat gebeurt. Best niet, want niemand kan daarin komen. Hij schrijft best over wat er in zijn maatschappij gebeurt, want dat zal iedereen wel interesseren, en de rest van de wereld. Dat is niet links, dat is logisch. Het past misschien niet in het kraam van de heer De Wever, maar dat is kunst. Kunst stopt met kunst te zijn als de toeschouwer ze niet begrijpt. Als dusdanig moet een kunstenaar veralgemenen, wil hij iemand buiten zichzelf aanspreken.

Verder dan literatuur en liedjes die gemakkelijk te verstaan zijn, staat dan beeldende kunst. Die moet echt universeel zijn, anders spreekt ze niet. Er zijn beeldende kunstenaars die werk maken op een manier die nationaal getint is. Denk daarbij vooral aan Delphine Boël om een duidelijk voorbeeld te nemen. Haar werk speelt vooral met de Belgische driekleur. Alhoewel er ook andere kunstenaars zijn die ook een nationaliteit hebben (iedereen heeft er een) en die daar geen punt van maken zoals bijvoorbeeld die andere beeldenkunstenares Niki de Saint-Phalle. Beeldende kunst kan op een eindeloze reeks manieren spreken, maar de heer De Wever gaat toch hopelijk niet beweren dat bijvoorbeeld Panamarenko een Vlaamse kunstenaar is omdat hij Nederlands spreekt met een Antwerps accent? Jan Fabre is toch geen Vlaamse kunstenaar omdat hij Nederlands spreekt? Ze zijn alle twee Vlamingen omdat ze in Vlaanderen wonen, dat noordelijke deel van België, maar wat is Vlaamse kunst? Wat maakt het werk van Jan Fabre meer Vlaams dan Belgisch of internationaal? Zijn de kevers meer Vlaams? Zijn Vlaamse kevers groener of glanzender dan Franse kevers of Waalse? Panamarenko en Jan Fabre zijn Vlaamse kunstenaars omdat, als dat nodig is, ze een nationaal adjectief nodig hebben om hen te identificeren, niet omdat hun kunst daardoor bepaald is.
Nationaliteit en identiteit in kunst heeft alleen betekenis als ze een duidelijke rol spelen voor de kunstenaar, zoals voor Boël. Dat komt tot uiting in haar werk. Als de identiteitskaart of de woonplaats van de kunstenaar niet in zijn hoofd speelt of niet een probleem vormt, is dat facet even belangrijk als de kast in hun woonkamer: niet. Het is iets nuttigs, maar niet meer dan dat. Het is er. En dan?

Wat wel zo is, is dat een kunstenaar voor een natie iets kan betekenen. Hij/zij kan een natie een identiteit geven, of kan een natie een excuus geven om een identiteit op te eisen, maar niet omgekeerd. Op dat vlak is Niet in Onze Naam misschien een streep door de rekening van de heer De Wever, want een massaal protest van kunstenaars die vooral niet willen geassocieerd worden met hem neemt hem de vaardigheid af van hen te gebruiken als bevestiging van die identiteit. Een groot acteur (zij het dan wat arrogant) als een Jan Decleir die een Vlaamse prijs weigert, is ook een streep door zijn rekening. Maar de heer De Wever moet dan niet verongelijkt doen als een kunstenaar hem ‘gevaarlijker dan het Vlaams Belang’ noemt. Dat is een mening en in dit land is er nog altijd vrije meningsuiting. Als die kunstenaar, vanuit zijn universeel brein, stelt dat de NVA een wolf in schapenvacht is, dan vindt die mens dat en dat mag hij. De Wever moet zich inderdaad niet moeien en al zeker niet aan een kunstenaar de les lezen. Als hij iets te zeggen heeft, moet hij zelf kunstenaar worden.

Ik sluit af met Charles de Coster, zoals de Wever aan zijn pleidooi begon:

« Que ne laissais-tu dormir dans leur tombe cet empereur et ce roi ? Pourquoi viens-tu aboyer à tant de majesté? Qui cherche les coups périra sous les coups. Il est des gens qui ne te pardonneront point, je ne te pardonne pas non plus, tu troubles ma digestion bourgeoise. (...)Tes personnages principaux sont des imbéciles ou des fous, sans en excepter un : ton polisson d'Ulenspiegel prend les armes pour la liberté de conscience; son père Claes meurt brûlé vif pour affirmer ses convictions religieuses, (...) Où voit-on encore ces choses ? Je te plaindrais si tu ne me faisais pas rire. »

“Waarom laat je toch die keizer en die koning niet rusten in hun graf? Waarom kom je hier blaffen tegen zoveel grootsheid? Hij die slagen zoekt zal aan hen ten onder gaan. Er zijn mensen die je nooit zullen vergeven, ik vergeef je ook niet, je verstoort mijn burgerlijke kijk. […] Je hoofdpersonages zijn narren of gekken, zonder één uitzondering: je kwajongen Uilenspiegel neemt de wapens op voor gewetensvrijheid; zijn vader, Claes, wordt levend verbrand om zijn religieuze overtuigingen, […] Waar zien we nog zulke dingen? Ik zou je beklagen als je me niet zou doen lachen.”

Is het toevallig of zijn die woorden exact die van de heer De Wever? Schokt het hem dat kunstenaars hem uitspuwen en andere waarschuwen voor dat ‘verstikkend eenheidsdenken’ (Vlaams eenheidsdenken is dan immers zo verstikkend als Belgisch eenheidsdenken of niet)? Verstoort dat zijn simplistische kijk op de wereld, die kijk die hij bij anderen kleinburgerlijk noemt? En verwijt hij de anderen voor hetzelfde als hij wil: vrij denken? Verwijt hij hen dat zij komen blaffen tegen zoveel grootsheid?

Inderdaad, hij zou ons beklagen als we hem niet zouden doen lachen… Maar zegt het spreekwoord niet ‘wie laatst lacht, best lacht’?

Immanente Rechtvaardigheid

2010-10-14T23:20:00.005+02:00

Mgr Léonard heeft het weer eens gepresteerd. Hij heeft weer iets gezegd waar iedereen, politici en anderen, van steigeren… ‘[Hij] zie[t] in AIDS een soort van immanente rechtvaardigheid. Verschillende parlementsleden vinden de uitspraak ‘dom’, ‘weerzinwekkend’ of zelfs ‘misselijkmakend’. En meteen gaan er stemmen op om een kerkbelasting in het leven te roepen en zelfs om een resolutie te stemmen die de ‘misselijkmakende uitspraken van aartsbisschop Léonard veroordeelt’ om ‘tegengas’ te geven.

Alleen schijnt er een ding vergeten te zijn: de uitspraak is ruimer dan eender wie ze blijkbaar ziet. En ze impliceert duidelijk niet dat AIDS rechtvaardig is. Iets dat parlementslid Marleen Temmerman, niet toevallig ook gynaecologe, samenvat als: ‘Eigen schuld, dikke bult.’

Nee, die zin betekent niet ‘AIDS = rechtvaardig’, ‘AIDS is een straf’. Toch niet in die zin. In de ruimere zin misschien wel, maar dat is voor later.

Volgens Wikipedia is ‘immanentie’ een term uit de filosofie, ook gebruikt door Aristoteles, Hegel, Kant en zelfs Marx. In het christendom is de term ‘immanentie’ een duidelijk antoniem van transcendentie. In die zin is God transcendent en Jezus en de Heilige Geest immanent: ze zijn God in de wereld. God zelf is transcendent: Hij is niet voelbaar, Hij is niet en Hij is ook niet benaderbaar. Jezus en de Heilige Geest zijn dat wel. Jezus is duidelijk te benaderen, of was dat; de Heilige Geest is duidelijk aanwezig tijdens het Pinksterwonder om het zo te zeggen (de vurige tongen en de apostelen die in talen spraken die ze zelf niet verstonden).
Bij Aristoteles zijn de krachten die de wereld veranderen, regeren, immanent: ze resulteren uit de natuur zelf en werken er ook op in; zo ook lijkt Rousseau’s God te functioneren. Hij is een twee-eenheid van God en natuur.

Verder staat immanentie in het christendom ook nog, in een zwakkere benadering, voor het feit dat God zou ingrijpen in Zijn schepping om uiteindelijk het Koninkrijk Gods te laten neerdalen een keer die fase voorbij is. Zo ook bij Marx: de slechte effecten van het kapitalisme zijn nodig om het proletariaat voor te bereiden op het communisme, misschien zelfs om het ertoe te bewegen.

Dus wat zegt Mgr Léonard hier dan? Hij zegt niet, zoals Mevr Temmerman uitdrukte ‘eigen schuld, dikke bult’, daar gaat de zin niet over zoals hierboven geïllustreerd. Als Mgr Léonard spreekt over ‘een soort van immanente rechtvaardigheid’ en AIDS zelfs verbindt met de opwarming van de aarde bijvoorbeeld, dan kan het niet zijn dat de zin iets zegt over oorzaak-gevolg op persoonlijk niveau. We hebben inderdaad allemaal schuld aan de opwarming van de aarde, maar ook niet. Op het vlak van het broeikaseffect kunnen we dan wel ons beste beentje voorzetten om ecologisch te zijn: meer met de fiets rijden, zuiniger rijden en verwarmen, recycleren, composteren, maar als niemand van de multinationals meedoet en niemand de moeite neemt elektriciteit te produceren op een minder belastende manier, als niemand de moeite neemt zuiniger en betaalbare centrale verwarmingsketels te produceren, dan kunnen we ons beste beentje voorzetten, maar het zal blijven bij dat beste beentje. Een mens moet een aanvaardbare keuze kunnen maken en moet een aanbod hebben om te kunnen kiezen.

In die zin moeten we de uitspraak van Mgr Léonard lezen. Niet de persoon die met AIDS besmet is, is rechtstreeks schuldig, maar de hele opzet van een maatschappij die immoreel is geworden. Het is niet dat ik persoonlijk van die uitspraak en deze interpretatie zo overtuigd ben, maar zo zou ze moeten gelezen worden. Deze interpretatie past ook in de benadering die het Vaticaan propageert naar AIDS toe. Condooms zijn niet besteed aan de Katholieke Kerk, dat weten we allemaal, maar zoals eerder al toegegeven door een epidemioloog, is het standpunt van de Kerk op dat vlak (onthouding) zo gek nog niet. AIDS of HIV verspreidt zich namelijk niet zoveel als mensen zich zouden onthouden (dat behoeft niet veel fantasie). Het is alleen zo verspreid geraakt omdat mannen met andere vrouwen dan hun vrouw seks hebben/hadden en daarna met hun eigen vrouw of nog een reeks andere vrouwen/prostituees/enz, omdat homoseksuelen seks hadden met veel verschillende partners in hun leven. Daardoor ontstaat een gevaarlijk mechanisme dat besmetting in de hand werkt. Had iedereen een partner, misschien twee of drie in serie met verschillende jaren ertussen, dan zou HIV zich zo snel niet verspreid hebben. Het is een harde dobber voor organisaties die condooms propageren, maar het is wel waar en wordt beaamd door epidemiologen. Condooms helpen dan wel hier en daar, maar tenzij iedereen in de risicolanden overtuigd zijn zodat ze bij elk seksueel contact er een dragen (wat zeker niet het geval is), zijn ze niet effectief. Onthouding is simplistisch genoeg (niet is niet) en het maakt niet uit of iemand begrijpt hoe dat virus werkt. Bij condooms is dat niet zo. Dat is natuurlijk geen reden om condooms af te keuren als mogelijk middel (in het westen zullen ze wel effectiever zijn naar mijn mening). En met dat standpunt ben ik het dan ook niet eens, en zal het ook nooit zijn.

Maar, als we dus ‘immanente rechtvaardigheid’ in die context lezen, dan is die immanente rechtvaardigheid een effect dat een fase is voor de perfecte staat zal worden bereikt. Dan is het ook, in de zin dat de opwarming van de aarde dat ook is, een straf voor een maatschappij die teveel bezig is met seks en niet met liefde. Want waarom bestaan condooms en anticonceptiemiddelen: als we allemaal onszelf zouden kunnen bedwingen, zouden we ze niet nodig hebben…

Los hiervan hebben onze parlementsleden weer eens vooral getoond dat ze van veel woorden gemaakt zijn maar niet noodzakelijk van iets anders veel weten. Als iemand nu eens de Van Dale erbij had genomen in plaats van halsoverkop te reageren, dan hadden ze misschien eerder kunnen vermijden hun domheid ten toon te spreiden. Ik veronderstel dat stemmen ronselen beter is dan enige moeite doen om iets te begrijpen, laat staan dat van het publiek ook verlangen.

Bibliografie:

Wikipedia, Immanentie

http://www.worldlingo.com/ma/enwiki/nl/Immanence

Tom Lanoye wint TZum-prijs voor mooiste zin

2010-09-20T01:41:00.003+02:00

Tom Lanoye wint dit jaar de TZum-prijs voor de mooiste literaire zin van het jaar en krijgt hiervoor een beker en 49 euro (een euro per woord in de winnende zin). Lanoye, een veelgelezen schrijver, wint de rijs met het volgende:

‘Vijftien jaar had de badkamer met de caravanafmetingen probleemloos dienstgedaan, de sporadisch gekneusde knie niet te na gesproken van wie zich, zijn toilet makend of zich scherend voor het lavabootje, te bruusk omdraaide en aan den lijve moest ervaren hoe gering de speling was gebleven tussen rand en wand.’

Een ding is zeker, het is een lange zin. Of hij veel indruk maakt, is andere koek. Op The Literature Network Forums, een van de grootste literaire netwerken op het internet waar vrolijk wordt gediscussieerd over alles wat met literatuur te maken heeft en over literatuur zelf, noemde een lid dat Nederlandstalig is de zin ‘pompeus’ en ‘zeker geen voorbeeld van goed Nederlands’, een ander vond dat het ‘ik ben geletterd schreeuwt, maar niet op de beste manier.’ De leden van dit forum zijn allemaal fervente lezers en dus zeker geen mensen die geen lange zinnen aankunnen. De vraag is nu, wat is er dan wel mis met de zin?

Er is eerst en vooral een probleem met de structuur. Nederlands is een SOV-taal. Voor de lezers die geen taalkundigen zijn: Nederlands heeft een structuur die Subject (Onderwerp)-Object-Verbum (werkwoord) verplicht stelt in elke zin in die volgorde. Het eerste vervoegde werkwoord is in de meeste gevallen van geen echte betekenis en alleen een hulpwerkwoord zoals in de zin ‘Ik heb een brood gekocht’. ‘Gekocht’ is daar het belangrijkste woord van de zin en ‘kopen’ is het werkwoord dat vervoegd is in de VTT met hulpwerkwoord 'hebben'. Nu, omdat dus Nederlands een SOV-taal is, moet ook het werkwoord achteraan in de zin komen. Of met maximum twee beweringen nog erna, als ze niet te lang zijn. Anders eindigt het hele gebeuren in grote verwarring voor de lezer. Er is dus een probleem met de structuur. ‘…de gekneusde knie niet te na gesproken van wie zich, enz…’.Het zinsdeel, ingeleid door 'van' is geen voorzetselvoorwerp (de verlenging van een werkwoord met een bepaald verplicht voorzetsel) en heeft dus geen plaats na het werkwoord. Het zinsdeel ingeleid door ‘van’ is eigenlijk een extensie, een nabepaling, van ‘knie’, want het is niet zomaar een knie, nee het is een bepaalde knie. Resultaat, de lezer denkt dat de zin afgelopen is na 'te na gesproken', maar niets is minder waar, en waarbij hoort nu eigenlijk die ‘van’? Taalkundig is het uit den boze, fout, iets anders dan een korte bijwoordelijke bepaling of een kort voorzetselvoorwerp nog na het werkwoord te laten komen. (Taalboek Nederlands, Willy Smedts & William Van Belle, Uitgeverij Pelckmans, 2003) Dan was het natuurlijk mogelijk geweest om dat zinsdeel, die nabepaling van ‘knie’, tussen het onderwerp en het werkwoord te laten komen, wat normaler zou geweest zijn, maar hier is ook een probleem:

‘Vijftien jaar had de badkamer met de caravanafmetingen probleemloos dienstgedaan, de sporadisch gekneusde knie van wie zich, zijn toilet makend of zich scherend voor het lavabootje, te bruusk omdraaide en aan den lijve moest ervaren hoe gering de speling was gebleven tussen rand en wand, niet te na gesproken.’

De lezer die het probeert kan de zin volgen tot het werkwoord en moet dan terugkijken naar wat het onderwerp nu weer was. Of er is nog een mogelijkheid, zij het een wat gewrongen:

‘Vijftien jaar had de badkamer met de caravanafmetingen probleemloos dienstgedaan, niet te na gesproken de sporadisch gekneusde knie van wie zich, zijn toilet makend of zich scherend voor het lavabootje, te bruusk omdraaide en aan den lijve moest ervaren hoe gering de speling was gebleven tussen rand en wand.’

Ironisch genoeg klinkt de zin beter in het Duits, waar capriolen van deze soort wel normaal zijn:

‚Fünfzehn Jahre hatte das Badezimmer im Wohnwagenformat problemlos seinen Dienst getan, abgesehen vom sporadisch blaugestoßenen Knie dessen, der sich beim Schminken oder Rasieren vor dem kleinen Lavabo zu schnell umdrehte und am eigenen Leibe erfahren musste, wie gering der Spielraum zwischen Rand und Wand geblieben war.‘ (met dank aan http://echtzeit-online.de/index.php?url=archives/856-Badezimmertuecken.html&serendipity[csuccess]=true )

De zin heeft zowaar Kafka-allures, alhoewel er een duidelijk probleem is met het dubbelzinnige ‘wie’ in het Nederlands dat niet in het Duits te vertalen valt zodat dat het twee mogelijke geslachten heeft (een duidelijke must als het over schminken gaat). Maar waarschijnlijk had Kafka hem nog veel langer gemaakt. Lanoye had beter geopteerd voor ‘afgezien van’ (zoals de Duitse vertaling) i.p.v. een poging tot pompeusheid te wagen en een andere uitdrukking te gebruiken die moeilijker te hanteren is en zelfs verre van juist. Hoewel, de reden hiervoor waarschijnlijk te zoeken is in de Vlaamse angst voor dialect en de drang om toch maar ten koste van alles een uitdrukking te gebruiken die vooral niet alledaags is omdat die eerste waarschijnlijk fout is. (Nederlandse Taalbeheersing, Willy Smedts)

Voor de rest is er nog een probleem met de uitdrukking ‘te na spreken’ die alleen kan gebruikt worden met personen en niet met dingen als knieën. Buiten het feit dat ze gedateerd klinkt, lijkt ze ook nog eens fout gebruikt te zijn omdat ze eigenlijk ‘kwaad over iemand spreken’ betekent (Van Dale, 1975) en zeker niet ‘afgezien van’ of ‘daargelaten’, een interpretatie die hier duidelijk naar voor geschoven wordt. Als de uitdrukking over de badkamer had gegaan had ze nog kunnen dienst doen als verpersoonlijking, maar over de knie is het moeilijk te geloven. Kwaad spreken over een slachtoffer?

Verder staat er nog ‘aan den lijve moet ervaren’. Dit lijkt een contaminatie te zijn van ‘aan den lijve ondervinden’ en ‘ervaren’ zelf. Een frappante taalfout voor een schrijver.

De tegenwoordige deelwoorden zijn hopeloos archaïsch omdat wij Nederlandstaligen tegenwoordig een constructie met ‘terwijl’, ‘bij’, of ‘tijdens’ gebruiken. Deze tegenwoordige deelwoorden klinken (weeral) veel beter in het Duits dan ze ooit zullen doen in het Nederlands.

Dus ja, er is een binnenrijm (dat inderdaad meer ‘schreeuwt ik ben geletterd’ dan het eigenlijk een blijk ervan is, want het is zo voor de hand liggend) en er is ‘bruusk’ dat blijkbaar in Nederland uit gebruik raakt (in Vlaanderen wordt het nog vrij veel gebruikt, of dan toch in spreektaal) en de zin klinkt pompeus, maar eerlijk, een zin met taal- en grammaticafouten kan toch niet een mooie zin genoemd worden, laat staan een prijs winnen?

Zeker niet als er gekeken wordt naar de lijst met nominaties die veel andere kandidaten kent die wel een serieuze Nederlandse zin kunnen schrijven met minstens even goede beelden, of zelfs betere: http://www.kleineuil.nl/?pg=genomineerden.

De jury hierover interpelleren helpt niet echt, gezien de heer Coen Peppelenbos, redacteur van het blad TZum, lid van de jury en schrijver-dichter, eerder graag kleineert dan hierover een discussie te hebben. Elke commentaar die daarom in de buurt komt van negatief wordt van het blog geschrapt.

Ieder heeft een eigen mening, natuurlijk, maar het is duidelijk dat de kwaliteit van deze zin verre van perfect is. De vraag is of we een architect wiens gebouwen er wel mooi uitzien maar na een jaar uit elkaar vallen, een prijs zouden geven. Ik hoop van niet.

Impressions from Modern Day Poland

2009-09-24T12:10:00.003+02:00

This might seem a strange title for a blog, but what do we know Poland from in the rest of Europe or the world? We don’t know Poland that well. We picture it as a very cold place like Russia, we know that they drink an awful lot (like the Russians) and for the rest? Ah, yes, it’s the place where all those great and reliable plumbers come from… but this is far from the truth.

We started our trip because we are looking for the origins of my husband’s family. So we wrote randomly to a few families and we were invited to come and stay (as Slavs naturally do). We went to a first family in Rypin where we – were given the daughter’s bedroom to sleep in. The daughter moved to the lake house where she organised a party with friends for us. We only stayed there for three days because after that we had an appointment with another family with my husband’s name. Nonetheless, we had a nice evening drinking (or at least they had, finishing 2 bottles of Vodka) and a nice barbecue in their perfect little house by the lake (absolutely breathtaking).

Then we moved, as I said, towards a family more to the east of Poland. It is interesting to note that, as we were on the bus, one could see the vegetation and natural environment changing. From a country looking like Germany, France or Belgium (ok, only a little bigger then) with fields of harvested crops stretching as far as the eye could see, we moved to an area with a lot of woodland and patches of field in between. My husband compared it to Russia. I am not sure how the people there would take it, but I can see his point. In fact, from the place we were going, the old border between Prussia and Russia was not even 10km away. So, in a certain sense the landscape foretold what country you were coming to then. Nowadays one still has to sit a few hours on the train to reach the border with Belarus.

But, people were not so much different from the family in Rypin. The stay was an amazing experience. We went a day early because there was no bus on the day we wanted and we stayed in a hotel. In the morning, whilst we were having breakfast, a person came from the reception and told us there was someone on the telephone for us, that she was sorry for giving out our name against hotel regulations, but that the man in question had been so nice that she had not dared to refuse. In fact, this man who turned up was our host who had called the other family (no family of his, never seen them either) to get informed about when we would arrive. That in itself was particularly resourceful. This man’s family was amazingly welcoming. The amount of trouble particularly the lady of the house went through for us we could never imagine in England, France or Belgium. Belgians like eating (if there is no good food, there is no good party or holiday), but this just topped the wildest dreams even of a Burgundian Belgian. There was for dinner: potatoes, leg of pork, pork and pineapple, stuffed duck, carrots, barszcz (beetroot soup) and this for only 6 people. During the afternoon there was ice cream, cakes and various drinks, not to forget fruit, and for supper there was bread with eel, three kinds of vegetable salad (self-made!), and various kinds of meat and cheese, with tea and coffee. This also for only 6 people. I had been ill the week before and I was not hungry, and they were concerned, probably that I did not like their food. The lady of the house would have gone to any length to please me, asking me if I liked ice cream better, or soup or whatever she could think of. For the next few days however, I recovered a little (they were still amazed at what little morsels of food I lived on). Food did not diminish and every day was a kind of feast. I think this was the fastest recovery in my history of illness. After one week, my tummy (before as flat as a pancake because of the lack of food) was back. My neighbours would have sworn nothing had been wrong with me.

The last meal with that family was the family’s son’s duty. He had become quite a friend in those few days. He entertained us, his parents, sister-in-law and nephew with a true banquet: soup with pasta , leg of pork, chicken, gołąbki (cabbage rolls filled with meat and rice), beetroot, cabbage salad, beans, and roast potatoes Wine was on tap almost and there was ice cream for dessert. His invitation was a little awkward, if anything down to his limited amount of English (although that had improved in those few days dramatically!), but it expressed the Polish idea of guests very well: ‘On Sunday you are coming to us, ok? And I will invite my parents too.’ ‘But we should still get to Rypin, and our bus goes at 12 o’clock.’ ‘You will first have dinner with us, and then you can go, ok?’ Indeed, they know what is good for you. As a guest you should be offered a proper goodbye. In the end, the father himself drove us to Rypin (1h 30min drive).

After Rypin, we moved to Płock, to the second family’s younger brother. There we got a true banquet in the evening too: fish salad, beetroot, stuffed duck, schnitzel, vegetable salad, bigos, bread with cheese and meat, tea or coffee and cake to end. Wine and vodka on tap.

In fact, both older people and younger people are very, very hospitable. They would go to any lengths to please you as their guest. Therefore you had better be careful with what you say: before you know it you will have what you mentioned in the morning. If you make the barest allusion to a theoretical plate of pasta, you might find it parked in front of your nose before you finish the sentence. There is only one thing one must like when invited to someone’s home in Poland: meat. It is inconceivable for Polish people to have someone who does not like meat, or even worse, a vegetarian. Although, I did see one book in a bookshop about vegetarian cooking… In fact the son of the second family who entertained us, told us that he went to Italy on holiday and that he was amazed at the little amount of meat they eat over there. The first thing he did when going back home was stop at the first Polish petrol station and eat leg of pork (Golonka as they call it, delicious as it is, I still don’t see a problem with Italian food). What struck me is indeed the great amount of meat they eat in Poland. So much that they eat almost as much meat as potatoes or even more and at the cost of vegetables that are represented by vast amounts of cabbage in all versions (in salad, cooked, sauerkraut, bigos and preserved), beetroot, and preserves like gherkins. These are additions to the main meal though and are not a major ingredient of it, unlike in England (the greens) or other countries.

As I said, as a guest you have to be careful with what you say. If you dare to mention that you eat a lot of pasta or rice, you will get that pasta or rice with your next meal. The only problem is that they might add it to the original meal as a starter and that you will only end up with more food on that table. Or they will do their best so much that they offer you three kinds instead of one kind of e.g. mustard. Not that that is not nice, only you will have to eat it all, so it is in your own interest not to mention too much of the other…

The only thing they expect, is that you taste all. Not that they will ever be truly satisfied unless you have eaten absolutely everything (then they can be sure you liked it), and that is quite impossible. In fact it is quite hard to tell them that you have had enough. Certainly if you eat little you will have a problem, because they will keep persisting that you would have eaten more if you had liked it. The concept ‘too much’ is not in the Polish dictionary. In fact, it is surprising that there are Poles who do not eat such an awful lot, but you as a guest are ironically expected to eat all the time, even if they have long finished… Although, in some instances, a Polish stomach can eat too much. On a certain day in Działdowo, we got pierogi for lunch. Despite the lady of the house saying that we would be hungry in an hour (not likely!), we were not. Still, we got cake and ice cream for ‘in-betweeny’ and she said she would make ‘a little’ for supper. After the ice cream, I had already given up the cake and I had eaten about half of one of the two pieces I had got on my plate. The ‘light’ supper she made us consisted of bread and cheese and sausage with onion! After one sausage my husband and the gentleman of the house were satisfied. Despite this, he (‘the food-terrorist’ his son calls him, which speaks a great deal) kept offering. My husband decided to play the game and told him he would eat one if the gentleman of the house would eat one too. The lady of the house had eaten none, and I had not eaten anything (without protest from them this time!) being full with ice cream and cake. So, the two gentlemen ate their second sausage. That night, my husband was alright, but the Polish stomach was too heavily laden and it was awake the whole night. At breakfast time, he was still not hungry. Only late in the morning. After this incident, we did not get offered as much food as before, message understood. But I am sure the effects of this lesson will wear off…

Another problem might be that as you move from the one to the other, they will have called one another and have found out that you like pasta or that you have a sweet tooth and the things you have said in the one household might start to lead their own lives. As hosts they feel obliged to serve you as best they can, i.e. be there for you and even take you around town in the middle of the night if you express a desire to have a walk. It might be hard to decline their company if you want to go alone and it might be better to just go off or to tell them when you are already going rather than discussing the issue, because you will end up with infinite company.

The thing with Slavs is that you have to dare to put your foot down and categorically refuse. It might seem uncourteous at first, but the benefit will be that neither you nor your host will become frustrated. When being somewhere, your host is waiting to bring you home. If you do not tell him you are tired and you are waiting for him to get tired, he will not become tired at all as he thinks you are not and you will end up sitting there a whole night, both you and your host (and maybe even his guests) frustrated at the length of the evening. For an English, French or Belgian person, you have to do the insolent thing and say ‘I want to go home now’ at a certain time in the evening that seems acceptable to you. The host will never tell his guest to go home, not even if he himself is dropping off to sleep.

Being a guest is quite a gratifying experience as you are the king, but do not abuse your power. Not eating is an insult, particularly if that refusal extends itself to traditional dishes. However, if you do not eat something because you are allergic, you just do not like it or you are not allowed to eat it, you are in no way pressurised to eat it. They will appreciate the explanation more than you just not touching it. The latter would just mean it doesn’t look nice and that (mostly) the lady of the house is a bad cook. They might be puzzled for a while, but the issue will not be mentioned anymore. If you like something, certainly shout ‘mmmmmmmmm’, because it will take the attention away from something you do not eat. If you take something, then eat it all. Leaving something means you didn’t like it. Rather take a little less and take more afterwards, than taking a huge lot and leaving half because it was more than you expected. But… Do not think that you can take all attention away from yourself and that awful fish in the middle of the table. If they do not offer it to you there and then, they will certainly have seen you not eating it and have drawn the conclusion that you do not eat fish. Strange habits will also travel to close relations: the fact that I had eaten the day after arrival (the day after the non-eating disaster) travelled to the son before I had had a chance to tell him. I guess the lady of the house was so pleased she alerted the neighbourhood :D. If you are full then keep repeating it. No compassion. If you have to eat everything on that table, you will end up sick for the whole night.

It is also not rude to start before all people at the table have got their plate or put things on their plate. It is perfectly acceptable to start eating the soup when the lady is still busy putting the next course on the table. In fact, one might say that the concept ‘course-meal’ that was introduced, ironically, by the Russian ambassador to France in the early 19th century, has not entered the collective mind in Poland. Sometimes in Germany you do get your salad a little before your main course, which it belongs to, but in Poland the contrast is quite sharp. Soup, meat, potatoes, vegetables, etc. come on the table all at the same time, like it was before the service à la russe (in the Russian way), called service à la française (in the French way). Pausing between courses (between soup and the rest) is not a must. Because of this of course, Belgians get problems, because they can eat a whole afternoon if need be, but only with regular pauses, not in one go. With a slight reservation at the soup being eaten first, then the rest and the food on the same table as the guests are at, guests are supposed to take what they like and eat as much as they can in any order they wish. The meat takes the centre of the table, as in service à la française.

Certainly do remember the lack of course-structure when you are in a restaurant: the one person orders a starter and the other one not? The two will get their courses at the same time: the one his starter and the other his main course. ‘A guest under no circumstances must be made to feel hungry’ is the thing that lies behind it. So when ordering a starter for two, make sure that the waiter has got that, otherwise the starter comes together with one main course. Also do not be shocked at the fact that not everyone receives his food at the same time: the food is ready? Put it on the table. Golonka and pierogi do not arrive at the same time, so eat your pierogi alone and be merry. Your fellow table-guests will not reproach you for eating when they have nothing and your food will not get cold.

The Germans might not know how to make proper coffee, bless their Lederhosen, but the Polish do. We would expect them not to as we are not in France or Belgium, but they do amazingly good coffee. And no modern machine-crap, only in the most trendy places. In fact you can ask for a Turkish one and they will make you coffee with the grated coffee in the bottom if you wait long enough. Tea is something they also drink a lot and as soon as you enter a household the first question will be if you want coffee or tea. After two times they will not even ask and just make you tea. If you want something else, then by all means tell them! They are bound to have fizzy water, coke, lemonade, and juice for you if you want it. Still water is difficult to come by unless you know the brands that have true still water, because the other that is stamped ‘niegazowana’ is usually lightly fizzy. Someone told us that they do not buy still water in bottles because the Polish water that comes out of the tap is too good. The question remains why they do not serve that same water they drink to you, but it will no doubt be a purely hospitable answer…

Food: if you want to go and eat as a tourist, you have two options. Either you go for the expensive option or you go for the very reasonable option. The expensive option will take you to a restauracja where you pay up to 30 złoty for a main course (we saw one in Poznań with a daring 88 zł (22 euro) price tag for a main course, but that’s an exception), the less expensive one will be the milk bar where you can get a main course for less than 10 zł. For the last option you will have to be prepared for blinding tl-lights and plastic cutlery, but other than that, their pierogi, coffee, tea, knödel and other things are at least as good as in the restauracja, only with a lot fewer frills. But even taking the milk bar into consideration, prices in Poland are very reasonable with an average amount of 4 zł (1 euro) for a coke, 5 for two cups of tea in one pot and 17/18 for a plate of pierogi (usually 8 pieces). Soups are sometimes even below 10. Only try that in Germany or even worse, Belgium: no chance. Foreign food like Pizza or Pasta is starting to get there, but is not very much present, although in most places there must be a crazy Turk who serves besides his Kebab also Pizza. At any rate, the lasagna and pasta we had on the great market square in Płock was very good. However, why have pizza when you can have Polish food?

Because of the excess of meat on the table (for breakfast, dinner and supper, naturally!) it is likely that at some point you will want to have something non-meat for dinner or supper. Or you might want something non-potato for a change. Good news: all menus have pierogi with cabbage and mushrooms on their menu, and some have soups with only vegetables, but some are garnished with sausage.

Pierogi: they are pasta-bags with filling, a lot like ravioli, but it is disrespectful to call them that. Do not fear, pierogi are not made with suet, so they are not heavier than the average ravioli, which allows you to eat as much of them as you think you can manage. They are eaten with meat-stuffing, cabbage and mushroom or à la russe with another type of bacon-filling. They are usually served boiled with fried bacon or bread on top and possibly a side dish of cabbage or something of the sort. After a pierogi main course, ironically, you could move on to the pierogi desert too! It sounds strange, but pierogi can also be stuffed with a cottage cheese-like filling and eaten with sweetened cream, or they can be filled with jam and eaten with sugar on top. The Italians didn’t think of that!

Barszcz: this is beetroot soup. Slavs are crazy about beetroot and eat them cold, hot or preserved and they make soup of them, of course, whatever they prefer. In milk bars you have a choice between Ukrainian, Russian or Polish barszcz, depending on whether you want pieces in it or just ruby-red clear soup.

Golonka: as we stayed with the fanclub of the Golonka, we had no option but to have it. I am not sure whether it was mainly this man’s family’s preference or a general Polish preference, but this leg of pork is certainly delicious.

Dill: they like dill a lot, sprinkled on potatoes, with cucumber, with cabbage. They use both the seeds and leaves of the plant.

Cake: Poles eat little sweet things like jam, but they do like their ‘sernik’ (cheese cake) and ‘szarlotki’, as Wikipedia tells a desert that has been around for some time. So long that the true etymology of it has been lost in the mists of time. It is linked with the well-known Charlotte Russe as that is the latest version, but the traditional one has been around for a longer time. As with the meal à la française, the Poles here again stayed on the quite traditional side of things and did not get strung along by the French. Essentially, ‘szarlotki’ are cakes, with a crusty outside and sometimes crumble topping, with apple or custard filling. Hence the Charlotte Russe with boudoir-biscuits on the side and custard in the middle. That said, the most popular version is the szarlotka with apple in the middle.

It has certainly been an interesting experience to have been with Poles and to have been part of their family and way of life. Not all tourists have that opportunity and I am thankful for having had it. We are in Europe and we are all part of this union, but we are, thankfully, not really alike, otherwise life would get really boring…

The new Emma adaptation, its preview

2009-08-04T22:20:00.003+02:00

Just saw the preview of BBC’s new costume drama, Emma… It is as I thought: a blonde Emma comes across too girly and not intelligent enough, certainly in combination with a blonde Harriet. What’s more is that Jonny Lee Miller and Romola Garai do not look as if there is an age difference of about 20 years or more. She is much too old for her role and he actually too young in comparison with her. But it seems that they have the same problem essentially as with Rochester in 2006: their 40-year-olds look like 20-year-olds. On the other side, they have Mr Weston seemingly grey, although he must be about the same age as Mr Knightley (Miller’s character), because he had his only son who is then 23 and Emma is around that age too. Unless he married seriously later, which is not likely because then he would be a really old and unattractive man (i.e. not eligible) as he would be almost 60 (ancient in those days!), he must be about as old as Knightley, yet this Knightley looks 20 years younger. As a result, we don’t understand why he comes across as a little bit of a father or very much older brother for her and we certainly won’t be able to figure out why his younger (!) brother has already five children… Churchill also doesn’t look that right. Coulthard was very difficult to better in this, but still…
The other thing I noticed was body language. It seems very much (or too much) contemporary as to body language of nowadays, not of Austen’s days: ‘certainly, we must not at all show any emotion whatsoever!’ There is too much emotion going on and not enough reserve.

And the end ‘we will never be able to marry’? What is that about. I sincerely hope they did not make it sugary by the end, as it will turn out to be probably (if we can believe Jane Eyre)

Emma was toned down by Miramax to a funny Disney-like story of a poor wrong girl who gets confused, and I sincerely hope this is not going to be the case with Emma by Sandy Welch, but I expect the worst.

What I do have to say is that Mr Elton and Mrs Elton look great together. As I thought, Cole put a lot of Caroline Bingley in Mrs Elton and that is what it had to be! Great.

But let’s stay open-minded.

Jane Austen's Emma: what should it be like?

2009-08-04T12:37:00.003+02:00

So, as I have now read Austen’s work and equally seen the two 1996 adaptations: one TV-version by A&E with Kate Beckinsale and Mark Strong as Emma Woodhouse and Mr George Knightley, and the Miramax-version with Gwyneth Paltrow and Jeremy Northam as our two protagonists, I feel compelled to put my thoughts down on the book and the two adaptations.

I firstly have to say, that the two adaptations were different. Maybe it is a cliché, but the Americans did something totally different with the same material. I don’t know whether it was for the better… It was too Disney-like (would it be a coincidence that Miramax is actually a division of that company?), too simple. Austen, despite the surface, is not at all simple slapstick comedy. It is psychological comedy which turns out into a transformation or coming to terms for at least the two main characters. Emma proved to be even more of that. A&E did something really great with the novel, employing the same writer as they did for their legendary Pride and Prejudice adaptation from 1995. Indeed, echoes came back: nature as a heeling force and endless cycle, but humans who have to find back themselves under that big layer of polish. All that came to a lovely conclusion in a harvest feast where Emma meets Robert Martin, talks to Frank Churchill about Jane Fairfax and where Knightley plays his role as liberal and kind landlord. With a song called Come haste to the wedding in the background of Churchill praising his wife-to-be and after that a set of three made up out of all the couples formed in the story, it is a lovely conclusion that tells us that nature will take its course and that the attraction between people is something natural, not something artificial dictated by society. Emma tried the latter, but it wasn’t to be; Mr and Mrs Weston fancied Churchill and Emma together, but it wasn’t to be. That distinction between nature and society had already been used in 1995 and Davies used it again because it is heavily present in the background of Austen’s books. It is 18th century philosophy.

The only bad thing that can be remotely said about the A&E adaptation is that it was a shame that not enough time was afforded for it. It became a film of 107 minutes. Davies did his best, but if he had been given as much time as for Pride and Prejudice he could have made another masterpiece. It was not to be. All the casting in this piece was superb. Austen does not describe her characters much, so a lot can be done with them on the outside. Emma must have hazel eyes, but that is the only real feature she definitely has. Mr Frank Churchill is ‘handsome’ but what is that? So, there is no real problem in casting. The only thing the characters need to be is real as to Austen-terms. Davies’s characters were very real.

That proved to be a problem in the Miramax-version. Although they afforded slightly more time to their adaptation (121 minutes), it did not become a better one in my opinion. The main problem lay in Mr Knightley who was too unreserved, Frank Churchill who was not a dandy as he had to be nor honourable, and an overall easiness that concluded In sugary romance.

A list of characters:

Emma Woodhouse: Kate Beckinsale and Gwyneth Paltrow had a go. I found Beckinsale more convincing. She was a headstrong, vain girl who got daydreams about people thanking her for the services she was going to render them (something that of course did not happen). Particularly her first epiphany In the church, Harriet bathing in sunlight as if struck by a divine light, is hilarious. This Emma was also pretty, so we could see how Knightley fell in love. Paltrow was not totally unconvincing and was put on the screen as a two-faced girl, but I think she was too simple. Beckinsale’s Emma gets a sudden ‘Clapham Junction’-moment (to say it in Pratchett’s words) during the storm where she suddenly realises that she has been in love all the while with Knightley. This was the serious note of Austen: all through the book Emma has been convinced of everything she has said, she has even tried to persuade the reader of that, but suddenly she seems to be wrong. It is lightning that strikes her; it is a problem she does not know: what is owning that you are wrong? Paltrow’s Emma did not realise this, or the process was not put on screen, so she professes it to Mrs Weston… But this, although it has the same contents, is doing Austen short. In the original the coming to terms of Emma mirrored what was happening in Brunswig Square in London. There, Knightley was trying to reflect on what happened at the party on Box Hill. After Emma made a cruel joke at the cost of Miss Bates, he reproaches her that it was ‘badly done’, but he has now become aware of feelings he did not think he had. Because, why would he care about what Emma said if he does not care about Miss Bates (is not hurt because Miss Bates was hurt)? why is it that he cares about how Emma comes across in public? He is confused and tries to find rest at his brother’s house, but there he sees his sister-in-law Isabella who makes him think of more superior Emma. During that stormy night of rain, he and Emma come to terms with their love for each other, certainly as she has now become confused as Harriet Smith has told her that she is in love with Knightley and that she believes he returns her affections. The thinking process, which ridiculously started with her nephew Henry (the poor heir presumptive who is going to be deprived of everything if Knightley marries), is very important, because it features a serious theme of emotional growth. It is that that was not featured in the Miramax-version. This time Romola Garai will have a go. Although I believe her too old for the part (she is 27), in this day and age we do not look old at that age, nor do I personally. As her counterpart who plays Mr Knightley is 10 years her senior it could work well. But they will have to take pains as she is a blonde (at least that is how she is on her portfolio photo on IMDb), to not let her come across as a stupid vain spoilt girl. The stigma of the dumb or nasty blonde is very much instilled in the common brain and therefore a blonde Emma can come across as the opposite of what she is: stupid. She must be intelligent, but vain because of which she does not see and does not want to see she is wrong. Gwyneth Paltrow also came across as a spoilt girl with not a lot of intelligence, but that is what Emma is just not and that is also what makes the whole thing so entertaining.

Mr (George) Knightley: Mark Strong and Jeremy Northam had a go at this one. Although both actors looked good for the part (no real outer features are supposed to be there, as in most Austen characters), Mark Strong was the better one, though only for his speeches. What needs to be said about Strong is that he was slightly more believable to be a lot older and to have held Emma in his arms when she was born. Though Jeremy Northam was older than Mark Strong, he looked a lot younger, but maybe because of his clothing which was rather light. Mark Strong’s, like Darcy’s a year before, was rather dark. Contrasted with Frank Churchill, Knightley looks a lot older. Other than this, Northam’s Knightley was not Austen’s Knighltey not even remotely. Mr (George) Knightley is a man who is intelligent and quiet, and who speaks truth, only truth. He will not speak unless it is necessary. Pointless conversation is not for him. In the end, even when proposing he says: ‘I can’t make speeches.’ Indeed, he loves Emma and that’s it. He will not tart his feelings up, nor will he do them injustice. When he feels he must speak he tells Emma plainly what is on his heart. He is sharply contrasted with a Mr Elton who professes to love Emma deeply and when she rejects him, takes another wife within weeks. The latter is talkative, but not truthful as Frank Churchill In a way. Strong’s Knightley was Austen’s Knightley. Northam’s Knightley did not even come close to the quiet intelligent truth-speaking man. Also his level of propriety was too low. Grabbing Emma by the arm in order to be able to tell her something after the Box Hill party was not done in the 19th century, although it might be done now. In the original and the A&E adaptation Knightley only tells her she was wrong and hands her into her carriage. That is a vast difference to Knightley who looses it, yells at Emma and walks off in a huff. Emotions were not to be shown. In that, Northam’s Knightley was much too emotional at times. One capital mistake that the Miramax adaptation made was making out to have Knightley going to London in order to speak with his brother about a ‘delicate matter’ (i.e. his marriage). This was certainly not the aim of his trip to Brunswig Square. Far from even. Of course it does highlight the Harriet-problem in Emma’s head, but it stands no doubt that Knightley did not at all have any intention of marrying when he left. As in much of Austen’s books, reflection leads to salvation; reflection leads to logic and logic offers the solution; giving the mind its power of decision, leads to good decisions. It is like that for Darcy, Elizabeth, Marian, Willoughby, Elenor, Wentworth and here, Knightley and Emma. It is important that the public does not get into Emma’s frame of mind as that is totally wrong. If the audience gets there, the whole film/novel looses its irony. This did not feature at all in the Miramax adaptation and thus did its original short in a big way. This time it will be Jonny Lee Miller who takes on the role. He is ten years Romola Garai’s senior, so it is plausible that he held her as a baby. If they now let him speak sensibly and only when he must, then it could come in order.

Between Emma Woodhouse and George Knightley there is also a large degree of fighting with words. One might say that it is a fight of two personalities who think too much in the same way although on a different level: opposites attract while equals push each other away. Although both come across as different, they are very much alike. Both are convinced of their own superiority and of their own opinion being right. In chapter 8 of the book they discuss Harriet and her superiority (Emma) or inferiority (Knightley). Emma sees her as superior because ‘surely she has a gentleman-father’, something which will turn out not to be true because in the end she seems to be the illegitimate daughter of a tradesman. Knightley finds her inferior because she does not know much and has no connections. Although he is right on the connection-front, he will have to re-adjust his opinion about her when he has danced with her at the Westons’ ball. Emma and Knightley can only attract each other at the end, when they have both experienced what it is to be wrong. Although it seems that Emma would suit Churchill better because they have both a very open personality, their minds are totally not alike (she is intelligent, he a dandy); they would not know what to tell each other after the honeymoon. The duality Emma-Knightley came very much across in the A&E-version again, but subtlety is clearly not given to Miramax. They made Emma rather a light comedy without deeper themes and certainly not with a fight of minds involved.

Mr Elton: Dominic Rowan and Alan Cumming had a stab. Although Alan Cumming was slightly more laughable directly, Dominic Rowan was more subtly so. ‘Indeed, Augusta’ was his catch-phrase and it really summed up his whole personality. He is a man of weak mind who seeks inevitably to be dominated by his future wife. He firstly goes for Emma (superior in strength of mind certainly), who actually paired him up in her mind with Harriet (what a view of him she has!), then he takes this horribly vain overbearing society girl. When Augusta complains of ‘puppies’ at the Westons’ ball we might ask what the hell she means, because she herself married one. But then, she probably doesn’t notice because she doesn’t listen anyway. His weakness of mind also makes him gullible as to his conduct after his marriage. It is clear that it is his wife who influenced him when at the Westons’ ball he refuses to dance with Harriet, obviously out of contempt with her status and out of personal contempt for Emma (as if being rejected is a personal cause for feud, or would it have to do with his vanity being hurt?). Miramax tried to have this come across, but did not totally succeed as the Elton-couple rather turns out to be largely made up of Mrs Elton. In the A&E-adaptation they turn out a conceited couple which might be closer to the truth. What is more is that Rowan’s Mr Elton was much more proper in his proposal of marriage in the carriage. Cumming’s Mr Elton followed Emma too much about in her carriage. Austen’s proposals are a happening of words, not of deeds and as such Cumming’s Mr Elton was highly improper. Although he was a little improper for Austen too, Cumming’s Elton was too overbearing in persisting. This time Mr Elton will be played by Blake Ritson. He looks good, so he can have enough reason to believe that he can be vain. He is 4 years older than Emma. And also than his future wife played by Christina Cole who is as old as Emma’s actress.

Mrs Elton: Lucy Robinson and Juliet Stevenson gave this one a try. Although both Mrs Eltons were equally annoying and overbearing, I found still Robinson’s version more convincing. Robinson’s Mrs Elton was less rude in her overbearing streak. She at least let her husband the time to say: ‘Indeed, Augusta’, something which Mr Elton was denied in Miramax’s adaptation at the cost of Mr Elton’s ridiculous nature as dominated man in a time of male supremacy. Although Miramax let her vanity come across in sentences like ‘I wouldn’t say I am beautiful, but my friends do say I am actually’, it becomes boring after a while. This is not Mrs Elton. Mrs Elton actually thinks herself the focal point of Highbury and comports herself to that notion, to the great detriment of Emma, who might just feel vexed in her vanity too by that as she is no doubt the focal point of Highbury with her status as gentleman’s daughter (how dare Mrs Elton!). Mrs Elton’s vanity does not stop at outer things like beauty, taste in music etc, it carries on in her total image of herself. Miramax stopped at the surface (praising herself by putting other people’s comments forward), but A&E carried on by making her think of herself as the reference in Highbury, as in Austen’s original. Christina Cole will take on the role in the new adaptation. She is also a blonde, which I think more appropriate for her than for Emma. A nasty character (the vain bitch of little intelligence) is easier as a blonde, although it will be very difficult to better Robinson’s performance. What’s more is that Cole also played Blanche Ingram in the last Jane Eyre adaptation of 2006 and Caroline Bingley in ITV’s Lost in Austen. She did not do badly in either of the two, so she promises to be a good choice for this part. Certainly if she affords Mrs Elton a large amount of Caroline Bingley with a thick sauce of conceited speech over her. Although, she might prefer to play something else after this. Before you know it, you don’t get any other roles than bitch-roles any more.

Mr Elton’s relationship with his wife is a peculiar one, more so in Austen’s days. Although we don’t really get a lot of impressions from Austen’s side about their actual relationship In terms of private moments, from the time there is a Mrs Elton we do not seem to hear Mr Elton anymore. That says a lot. Davies managed to put that into comedy by giving Mr Elton the catch-phrase ‘Indeed, Augusta’, but in Miramax’s version this look on Elton was totally forgotten but for his being silenced every time he speaks by his wife. This, though funny, is a very un-Austenesk way of dealing with that issue because it was highly improper to silence someone at all. Then Davies’s choice to do it with ‘Indeed, Augusta’ was a much more contemporary one which came across as even more ridiculous as that is mainly the only thing he still says apart from agreeing with his wife in longer terms.

Harriet Smith: Samantha Morton and Toni Collette attempted to portray her. Although Morton was extremely young at the time, she put down a highly convincing Miss Smith. It is hard to picture Collette at all in this role, although she does do her best. However, it is easier to see a small, curly blonde, young girl as stupid (‘Will he pass through Bath as well as Oxford?’) and naïve than a big and buxom girl like Collette is one. The fact that Morton was definitely smaller and a lot younger than Beckinsale made it easier for the viewer to feel that she was naïve and ridiculous. The equality in size between Paltrow and Collette did not afford the contrast a comedy needs. Although Collette did not do badly in portraying a stupid tall girl, it was difficult to see it at once. But in a longer version that might work very well. This time Louise Dylan will attempt the role. Although not much is known, she seems to be a good choice. We will see what she makes of her first big role on TV.

Mr Frank Churchill: Raymond Coulthard and Ewan McGregor had a go at this role. Clearly the better of the two was here Coulthard’s Churchill. Ewan McGregor I found very unconvincing as the endearing, handsome and mirthful Frank Churchill. McGregor himself might not have had anything to do with this, though. He had to play a part that was totally misinterpreted. In Miramax’s version, Frank Churchill was a little bit of a fraud: he courts Emma while he has no intentions, he sings with Emma, he comes up with the scheme that Mr Dixon in fact was the one to send the pianoforte. Austen’s Frank Churchill was none of that. She intended him to be an honourable and sensitive young man, much like his father, with a greatly positive and mirthful look on life. He falls in love with Jane Fairfax, a girl of inferior descent, and asks her to marry him. However, he is conscious of the fact that his aunt will never allow him to marry or even worse, will take away his inheritance. In that case, he is nowhere, because his father’s fortune is not big enough. So, he decides to wait and tries to see his Jane whenever he can (once a year). When his aunt lets him go to his father from Yorkshire, he subtly courts Jane, not least by going off on a whim to London ‘to get his hair cut’ in order to buy her a pianoforte. When his aunt then finally moves to Richmond where she will die, he comes every day and courts his Jane despite giving another impression to others. The most ridiculous things pass, one of which is the fixing of Jane’s grandmother’s spectacles (this maybe symbolically so as he will have the power later to re-adjust the image he has left). It takes an awfully long time. The most endearing part of his courtship is when he sings with Jane and compliments her on her hairdo, although he makes out that he finds it extremely strange. One feels for him when he has to stop singing with her that evening, because it is the only time they can really be together without raising suspicion. It is also very very moving that he always takes up a place where he can see her (opposite her or at least far enough away in order to be able to observe her as that is the only thing he can do undisturbed). Despite his two-faced façade, Churchill actually never tells a lie about Jane. The most difficult part for him in the beginning is to redirect the attention from himself to another when it comes to Jane in Weymouth. If people can suspect Jane of having an affair with Mr Dixon, they can suspect him. He does that redirection very cleverly: by letting Emma make her mind up about things. He knows she will never think straight away about himself as a possible suitor and source for the pianoforte (despite his trip to London), because of her feel for status, so he feeds her thoughts much as she fed Harriet’s about Mr Martin. And when he then goes off to buy Jane’s pianoforte, he enforces this suspicion of others by putting Irish songs in the packet, too. Despite that two-faced façade, Austen manages to redeem him. His last letter to Mrs Weston, clarifying a great deal (not only about his secret engagement and the trouble it ran in when Jane was having a hard time), states that he courted Emma knowing that she was never truly in love with him. That is amazing because she herself at a certain time believed that she was in love with him, which was not really true. He was on the verge of confiding in her, but did not. Particularly his knowledge of Emma (that he could never penetrate her heart) highlights him as an extremely sensitive and honourable man, much like Mr Knightley, but unreserved. When he then praises Jane while talking to Emma, it really takes the reader’s breath away. You wish him well. He is an extremely positive and loveable figure (ironically so as he has conned everyone yet everyone still loves him) and Davies and Coulthard did him great justice. It will be very hard to equal or better that performance for Rupert Evans, although he does not look bad for the part.

Jane Fairfax: Olivia Williams and Polly Walker both portrayed this character. Although Polly Walker did her best, again A&E managed to put Williams better in her role. They chose a slightly less noticeable actress to play the part of a very unnoticeable reserved girl. Jane Fairfax is one who rarely speaks, if only for the fact that her aunt Miss Bates continuously talks over her… But she should still be worthy and beautiful enough to claim a Mr Frank Churchill as hers… In short, she should be attractive enough from afar to be able to be likely to have been noticed by Churchill in the first place. She needs to be equally intelligent to keep a quick mind like Frank’s occupied and she must be pleasant in conversation. Despite her seeming lack of feeling, she needs to have storms rage inside her (like Elenor of Sense and Sensibility). That duality is not really easy to play, certainly not if one has to come across as reserved, but I think it rather asks the writer to write the appropriate scenes for that… In the next adaptation it will be Laura Pyper who will take on the role. It could be good, because she seems sweet enough, if she has a reserved part to play. They should however get rid of the fringe, because in Austen’s days they did not exist. Although, with some curling irons that is quickly solved. Auburn hair for a Jane Fairfax is certainly not a nono, although she should not come across as smarter than a blonde Emma as there is then a danger of Emma coming across as a blonde bimbo which she is definitely not…

Frank Churchill and Jane Fairfax’s relationship is a peculiar one too. She is reserved, he is totally not, and still the two found each other; he fell violently in love and is prepared to risk all, she is conscious of her inferior nature and starts to doubt his love for her. At the start, Frank professes that it is not possible to love one who is reserved… How wrong Emma will be inn believing it. That, though, highlights the typical Austenesk duality between sense and sensibility. Wherever either of the two takes the foreground, things go wrong.

Miss Bates: Prunella Scales and Sophie Thompson. Although both Miss Bateses were laughable, as they should be, Scales was the more Austenesk one. Her incessant talking was slightly more incessant than Thompson’s one. Miramax had a good try in making her ridiculous, but Davies managed it in a more authentic manner. Like Mr Knightley says to Emma, Miss Bates’s fate is a sad one. She knows it and it is as if she does not want to stop talking because if she stops she might dwell on her sad state of affairs. She was once a girl with a fortune, but sunk as she did not marry and now cares for her mother on a small income which compels others to charity. She always dwells on the ‘good neighbours’ she has, but deep inside feels probably mortified at the thought that she now has to in fact rely on them. She cannot afford to quarrel with Emma after the latter’s nasty remark on Box Hill. That kind of sadness under the superficial gaiety she displays lavishly was certainly present in Prunella Scales’s superior performance. Miss Bates was toned down by Miramax (again) to a laughable girl with glasses. Also Scales’s voice was more suited to the part (not that Thompson can help that). For the next adaptation it will be Tamsin Greig who attempts the role. I do have to admit, I don’t really hold good hopes for this casting. She might be a very good actress, but she is much too young, or at least too young looking (that is a compliment). Miss Bates was at least 40 and as such was an old woman. This beautiful woman of 42 looks at least only 32 and taken into account that people looked much older then than they look now at the age of 40, I don’t think this was a good cast. But we will see what she/they make of it. It is a great part to play and it could work, if she is allowed her long and boring speeches and if she is adorned with a cap that hides her black hair or a wig that makes her hair grey.

Mrs Bates: Sylvia Barter and Phyllida Law played the deaf woman. Although both looked good in their wordless role, maybe here, Miramax did a good thing in making her really look bored with her own daughter. Although she should not be able to hear her, at a certain time Miss Bates honestly makes the (slightly ironic) remark that ‘[her] mother hears everything Jane says’ because ‘she speaks so clearly’. Maybe Mrs Bates was just making out she couldn’t hear her daughter… But then again, we should also acknowledge what the consequence of being hard of hearing was in Austen’s days: people who were deaf (to start with the deaf-and-dumb) were considered not to understand what was going on. They were considered as mentally deficient and so did not learn to read. Of course, this does not apply to Mrs Bates, but being hard of hearing would have got her a stigma as not being able to participate and thus being obsolete. The only thing she does do, in the novel, is occupy Mr Woodhouse when Emma is out… He needs a stick to talk to so to say and Mrs Bates will supply it, because she can’t hear him anyway so there will be no danger of boring her (not that anyone listens to him). I think Miramax could actually have enhanced the mentally deficient image by making her daughter shout single words at her (‘Pork!’) rather than nothing or whole sentences and making the woman in question look excluded and bored. In that sense A&E left a great possibility, but I suppose they rather focused on Miss Bates instead as being more entertaining given the short amount of time the film was afforded. Nothing is known about the actress who will play Mrs Bates yet. If there isn’t one, it will be a total shame, certainly as the amount of time does afford a chance for a Mrs Bates to be occupied in her deafness. We will see.

Mr Woodhouse: Bernard Hepton and Denys Hawthorne played the very concerned old man. Bernard Hepton was clearly the better one (again). Mr Woodhouse is concerned with everyone’s health and is moving that way, but at the same time he is also a typically old person who is wrapped up in his own existence and time too much. He does not like change and feels that he has been deserted by Miss Taylor when she got married to Mr Weston, was deserted by Isabella first when she married Mr John Knightley, and now to his great detriment Nr Knightley also plotted against him by taking Emma for himself. It is ridiculous but nonetheless endearing… I found that the A&E version of Mr Woodhouse by Bernard Hepton was the better one. He was slightly more believable being weak and sleeping an awful lot of the time. Denys Hawthorne was too able and therefore not really believable in a character that is a little scared of the outside world. The next Mr Woodhouse will be played by Michael Gambon. He looks a little young for the role, but with older clothing, it works (an actor still has to be able to move in order to be able to do his work). As he played Gandalf in the Harry Potter-series we can see him as a sufficiently old man. He is certainly able to do it. Now only still a good part…

Mrs Weston/Miss Taylor: Samantha Bond and Greta Scacchi gave this woman a go. I don’t think any of those two came across exactly like Mrs Weston from the original Emma… Mrs Weston is Emma’s best friend and former governess, but that has its consequences: instead of being a good teacher, she left Emma much to herself and as a result Emma turned out quite spoilt. Unlike Knightley who does not give in, Mrs Weston gave in too much and therefore Emma’s projects turn out unfinished… If anyone is really to blame for Emma’s arrogance in thinking she is always right, it is Mrs Weston who did not profess truth (as Knightley), but always agreed with her. She is also the one to tell Emma that Knightley has affection for Jane and she is the one who matches Emma with Churchill. We wonder where the match-making in Emma’s head and the courtship ideas came from… Mrs Weston is actually a great laugh because she is as wrong as Emma and her husband. Not only in putting Emma next to Churchill, but also in her image of the world. Fortunately Emma was quite intelligent, otherwise she would have ended up as stupid as Harriet. Both A&E and Miramax’s Mrs Weston were rather nice friends of Emma’s, not corrupting forces like the original. It is mainly down to the fact that Emma has no mother, that the teacher had a double role to fulfil: the role of teacher and wise loving counsel. It is that where Mrs Weston failed miserably in being too indulging. As Austen was also occupied with the issue ‘education’ we can presume that here as well, she made an irony towards the type of governesses that were around… In the subsequent adaptation it is Jodhi May who will give Mrs Weston a face. Although I have seen her before in Einstein end Eddington, there she had a small role. Probably she will suit the role in looks, but it is mainly her part that needs to be ironic enough. We will hope that Sandy Welch wrote the above in Mrs Weston’s part.

Mr Weston: James Hazeldine and James Cosmo put him on the scene. Although both characterisations were good enough, James Cosmo had a capital mistake on his face in the form of a moustache. As far as I recall, I have never seen a moustache in a period drama of Austen. Because there were no moustaches. Slightly longer hair, huge whiskers (in somewhat later days) did exist for men, but all men were clean shaven. It was a sign of wealth that you could afford to shave every day. Mr Weston is an extremely nice man, but also a little too forgiving for his son and in-laws as they took his son away out of pride after the death of his wife. It is sad really that he doesn’t see that. He should come across as a little naïve for his age. We can see a little how he must have been 20 years prior to when the story starts when Frank Churchill comes on the scene again… In the next adaptation it will be Robert Bathurst who takes on the role. I hold hopes for him, although he looks a little young for his role…

Then there is still a last pair to be talked of, or at least the male part of that:

Isabella and Mr John Knightley: Isabella is not that important as she barely says a few words. But Mr John Knightley is, though. He is a little Mr Palmer (Sense and Sensibility), although not out of humour because of his wife, just not really disposed to be nice in order to humour everyone. He is also one ‘who speaks truth’, like his brother and the two Mr Knightleys get on very well with each other. No doubt speaking truth to each other. He is a realistic person, being a barrister in London, and he speaks very plain to Emma. Guy Henry and Brian Capron played this role. I seem to remember that Guy Henry was better because he was allowed to play the role of ‘spoilsport’ at the Christmas party of the Westons when it starts to snow, but was also the nice brother-in-law in his first scene. Although, nothing disturbed me in Capron’s role. What I did miss in the two versions was the ‘admirable’ intervention of ‘the two Mr Knightleys’ when the turkey-thieves strike again. It is the reason why Mr Woodhouse finally sees that an able man in the house might be favourable and that Mr Knightley is actually the man they need; it because of that admirable intervention as brothers that Mr Woodhouse is settled with the marriage of Emma in his mind. It would be lovely to have that in the next adaptation although it might be too boring to have something more after the conclusion… In the next adaptation it is Dan Fredenburgh who will take on the role. Although I think he might be too young for a man with several children and a profession as barrister, we will see what he makes of it. On the other hand Henry was also quite young-looking when he played the part and it is certainly true that Jonny Lee Miller and he could be brothers.

What I am really anxious for is the interpretation Sandy Welch is going to give Austen’s creation. After having seen her interpretation of Jane Eyre in 2006, I don’t hold much hope. I found she misinterpreted Rochester’s part and she destroyed a great deal of the symbolic layer of the book, only briefly alluding to The Beauty and the Beast in the beginning, but not carrying it on. Brontë was a very well read woman and she did not just tell a story. She told a story within a whole load of references and she made her book so deep that it is difficult to see the whole picture. Yet, it is not impossible to give it the right interpretation without actually carrying the whole thing to the full (A&E 1997). Sandy Welch, though, misinterpreted Rochester’s part and made him a tragic wretch all the way through and made Jane one after her shattered wedding. Neither of the characters actually mature, and that is what should happen. Not only in Jane, but also in Rochester. It is dangerous to read a classic merely on the story level and as such, a lot of Austen goes amiss when she is read on just that level. ITV’s adaptation of Persuasion in 2007 made such a drama of it, that one could not even recognise Austen’s tone in the original. Even the parts that should be sad or very serious, are not in Austen’s books. Because of some peculiar process, she succeeds in keeping her story interesting and funny, even at sad moments. It is the ironic thoughts of the main character and sometimes the minor ones too that make a serious situation ridiculous. In Pride and Prejudice it is the pride of both Elizabeth and Darcy that makes the first proposal not a drama, but a total cock-up of great proportion. He asks why she refuses him after professing that she is his inferior and she cries after refusing him, despite the fact that she hates him… In Emma, however, the same 'I am right'-mode is a little more difficult, certainly on film, as her arrogance and convictions take place on an exclusively personal level. Although Mrs Weston is a good friend, she is unavailable at the start because she is on honeymoon. Harriet, Emma’s new friend, takes (unwittingly) part in the matchmaking scheme, so she can’t serve as ‘talking-prop’ in order to reveal Emma’s thoughts. (Elizabeth could talk to Jane and reveal her views thus exposing her personality, Emma cannot talk to Harriet, nor to Mrs Weston). For the first part of the story Emma has no talking-prop and it is a problem because the start is important to get the character known to the viewer. Davies solved that question through making Emma dream up images from time to time. This was great, but one can’t really repeat what has been done before. Miramax did it with a diary, but that takes interesting time away from the film.. I am eager to see how they are going to solve that problem.

I hope Sandy Welch took a leaf out of Davies’s book and considered wider contemporary contexts. What I certainly do hope most heartily is that she did not get guided by feminist interpretations of Austen, as they are without context. Austen is about wit, satire and the human psyche, not about women alone. As such, Emma might be Emma’s protagonist, but Mr Knightley is that too and the two of them go through a process of emotional growth. Austen is about the whole of society then and the people in it (how they are affected, what they are taught to think), and not about the protagonist herself. I hope she got that, and then, we can see another 1995 triumph.

Ödön von Horváths Kasimir und Karline door het NTGent, gisteren op Arte rechtstreeks van het theaterfestival van Avignon

2009-07-30T14:05:00.005+02:00

Le Monde schreef in zijn recensie “Qu’est-ce qui est passé à Casimir et Caroline ? » (“Wat is er gebeurd met Kasimir und Karoline?”). Het is inderdaad een vraag die we moeten stellen. Na de mediapolemiek omtrent de uitvoering van het NTGent in Avignon en het boegeroep aan het einde van de première daar, besloot ik van eens naar dat stuk te kijken vermits het toch werd uitgezonden op Arte, gisteren 29 juli om 22u. Ik had het stuk twee jaar geleden ongeveer al gezien in ook een ge update versie van een top amateurgezelschap in het Leuvense: Toneel Heverlee. Hoewel die bewerking, bij nadere studie, minder aanleunde bij Horváths origineel, moet ik zeggen dat de boodschap bij Toneel Heverlee beter overkwam dan bij de NT Gent. Toneel Heverlee had het stuk Kas en Karo gedoopt en had het i.p.v. op het Oktoberfest in München op Marktrock in Leuven geplaatst. Alhoewel ze de zeppelin, en de freakshow eruit hadden gegooid bleef het thema helemaal overeind, wat niet over het NT Gent kan gezegd worden.

Na wat zoeken op het internet, kwamen er over Ödön von Horváth en zijn toneelstijl interessante weetjes boven. Bij mijn eerste uitvoering zag ik een vage link met Bertold Brecht en dat bleek zeer juist te zijn. Beide toneelschrijvers zijn deel van het Duits Volkstheater, een stijl die al sinds 1850 bestond. Het volksstuk bestudeert Regio, Geschiedenis en Volk. Horváth zou bovendien de implicaties daarvan bestuderen in zijn stukken en Brecht de klassenverschillen. Horváth spreekt over het “oude” volksstuk als een sentimenteel gebeuren en dat wil hij vernieuwen door bewustmaking van clichés en de werkelijkheid buiten de zaal voor de toeschouwers aan te snijden. Zo worden zijn volksstukken omgekeerde stukken die ingaan op de druk van de maatschappij op de modale mens. (Killy). Zo ook Kasimir und Karoline.

Misschien moeten we het stuk toch kaderen: in het jaar 1931, toen Horváth eraan begon, had Hitler net met de NSDAP de verkiezingen gewonnen. Het is te zeggen: een groot aantal zetels in het parlement veroverd. Het jaar 1932 zou een korte neergang voor de partij brengen, maar zoals iedereen weet zou in 1933 Hitler definitief aan de macht komen. Dus het stuk, al is het in 1931 of 1932, speelt zich af in een drukkende sfeer. Niet alleen omdat de economische crisis in Duitsland zwaar aankomt (Kasimir die het stuk begint met het feit dat hij zijn werk als chauffeur kwijt is), maar ook in een sfeer van extreem rechts en racisme. Verder in het verleden (voor WO I) hangt ook nog de schaduw van het grote cultureel elitaire Duitsland dat schijnt in rook te zijn opgegaan en de modale Duitse bevolking die zich nu heeft teruggetrokken in kleinburgerlijke positiviteit, alles wat ongenaam of ongezellig is negerend. Iets dat Horváth “Dummheit” noemde (Alfred Doppler).

Karoline toont zich in het begin erop gebrand zich te amuseren op het Oktoberfest met haar verloofde Kasimir. Het staat geen twijfel dat Kasimir zich niet zo fijn voelt na zijn ontslag (en de vooruitzichten die hij heeft op nieuw werk ongetwijfeld), maar Karoline lijkt daar niet naar te luisteren en de twee komen in aanvaring. Zij is bovendien ook (kleinburgerlijk) gericht op het beklimmen van de sociale ladder. Als ze een kleermaker tegenkomt (met werk), breekt ze met Kasimir. Of ze zelf weet dat haar obsessie met sociale betering de echte reden is, is twijfelachtig. En dat is de essentie van dit stuk: beide hoofdpersonages en de anderen kennen zichzelf niet en doen zich anders voor dan ze zijn. Het stuk draait uit op een tragedie van mensen die dingen doen zonder dat ze weten waarom: Karoline zal na een aantal verdorven omzwervingen met haar kleermaker naar huis gaan en Kasimir met Erna, het liefje van zijn (ondertussen gearresteerde autodief) vriend Franz Merkl. Het is niet dat Kasimir niet zijn best doet om Karoline terug te winnen (hij onderneemt verschillende pogingen), maar hij is hulpeloos omdat hij niet uitgedrukt krijgt wat hij wil zeggen (te grof) en zij hem niet verstaat/wil verstaan in haar gesloten mentale wereldje. Taal bij dit stuk is van zeer groot belang daar zij een iets lyrischer taal gebruikt terwijl hij meer op een lager (volks) niveau zich beweegt. Daardoor verstaan ze elkaar niet, maar ze begrijpen niet waarom, verblind door hun conditionering inde maatschappij (Dummheit).

Verder zijn er nog symbolische dingen die gebeuren. De twee prominentste zijn de zeppelin en de freakshow in het circus. Ze hebben met elkaar te maken. Enerzijds wordt de zeppelin gezien als een symbool voor maatschappelijke macht, anderzijds kan hij gezien worden als een symbool voor de macht van mannen over vrouwen (het is Karoline die het meest geïnteresseerd is erin en het is zij die uiteindelijk Kasimir zal dumpen in tegenstelling tot wat ze laat uitschijnen als ze zegt dat een vrouw meer aan haar man hangt als het hem slecht gaat). Voor Karoline is de weg naar sociale opklim inderdaad haar man. Als vrouw kan ze zelf niets. Voor Kasimir neemt de zeppelin een connotatie aan van de tegenstelling tussen arm en rijk. De freaks in het circus mogen de zeppelin niet zien want dan gaat het circus failliet… Zou het misschien eerder zijn dat ze hem niet mogen zien omdat ze zich anders wel eens zouden kunnen bewust worden van hun rol en wat ze willen? Of is het dat het publiek hen niet mag zien zonder voorbereid te zijn op iets dat van de norm afwijkt (tussen het publiek lopen zou een bevestiging van hun normaliteit zijn) en dat het kijken waard is. Als de freaks namelijk een normaliteit worden, wordt de norm bedreigd en gaat het circus inderdaad failliet bij gebrek aan interesse van het publiek. Alleen als het potentiële publiek gehypnotiseerd is door de norm (de zeppelin) kan een freakshow plaats vinden. De tegenstelling tussen Karoline die door de zeppelin gehypnotiseerd is en Kasimir die hem als totaal iets anders ziet, zorgt ervoor dat de twee elkaar inderdaad verkeerd begrijpen.
Aan de andere kant geeft de zeppelin ook een gevoel van verlangen naar hogere sociale status (het kleinburgerlijke) dat Karoline zo mooi uitdrukt in haar aanbidding van diezelfde zeppelin.
Voor de rest moest het stuk opgeluisterd worden met muziek (oude Duitse liedjes) waarvan de tekst reflectie van het publiek zou aangemoedigd hebben. Hierdoor zou de tekst, die vrij tegenstrijdig was, verstaanbaar worden en zou het publiek kunnen begrijpen wat nu het probleem was met Kasimir en Karoline en wat het stuk het publiek eigenlijk wilde bijbrengen: dat wat de personages zeggen, niet hun ware gedachten zijn en dat ze dat zelf niet doorhebben.

Wat heeft de NTGent er nu van gemaakt en hadden die twee leden van het publiek gelijk toen ze schreeuwden “C’est chiant!”?

Door het wegnemen van het origineel decor van het Oktoberfest, neemt men een groot deel van de essentie van het stuk weg. Omdat het een volksstuk is, moet het ook in een volkssetting opgevoerd worden. Of het niet kan gemoderniseerd worden, is de vraag. Omdat het zo vast hangt aan “de maatshappij” en het publiek dat die maatschappij kent, is het misschien toch raadzaam van het stuk te moderniseren, zoals Toneel Heverlee deed, maar daarmee neemt men wel de racistische extreem rechtse dreigende sfeer weg van de jaren ’30. Bovendien is het zo dat zelfs al zitten we nu in een economische crisis, ze niet te vergelijken is met de crisis van de jaren ’30 en al zeker niet met diezelfde crisis in Duitsland. We mogen niet vergeten dat Duitsland er erger aan toe was dan zelfs Amerika. Een gemiddelde werkloosheidsgraad van 25% over het hele land was nooit gezien, zelfs niet in Amerika. Bovendien was de werklozensteun ingeperkt (door gebrek aan geld). De vooruitzichten van Kasimir worden zo heel erg bar. Dit is voor het publiek nu ondenkbaar. Maar, aan de andere kant is het niet zo erg van het stuk te moderniseren als het de verstaanbaarheid van het probleem vergemakkelijkt. Hoewel van een verregaande bewerking (zoals Toneel Heverlee had gedaan) was geen sprake bij het NTGent. Een aantal verwijzingen naar 1912 en “net na de oorlog” (1919?) en de zeppelin verrieden voor een groot deel de oorspronkelijke setting van het stuk, die onverenigbaar was met een stellingconstructie en een moderne auto.

Wat vooral tegen de tekst werkte was de hele opzet (zoals Le Monde ook al zei). Door het feit dat het decor niet realistisch kon genoemd worden, raakt het publiek de voeling met de realiteit (die zo belangrijk is in Volkstheater) kwijt. Dit was geen probleem geweest als het NTGent elk personage (of klasse van personage) op zijn eigen niveau had laten acteren. Het verdiep waarop ze staan als een soort van indicatie naar hun functie in de maatschappij. Maar dit was niet het geval en personages renden naar boven en naar beneden zonder enige vorm van logica. Waarom Kasimir en Erna uiteindelijk boven op de stelling eindigen blijft een enigma. Het is niet dat Kasimir aan het einde van het stuk minder gedesillusioneerd is, noch dat Karoline nog altijd aan de grond zit (waar Kasimir en zij begonnen).

De muziek was ook een heikel punt volgens de recensies en inderdaad, de muziek werkte storend. Niet omdat het muziek was, want dat komt wel meer voor in toneelstukken (zeker moderne), en het kan gezegd worden dat Horváth ook muziek in gedachten had, maar diezelfde muziek bracht niets bij aan de verstaanbaarheid van de situatie en gedachten van Kasimir en Karoline. Zoals Horváth het in gedachten had, diende de muziek om het publiek te laten nadenken, als een soort van allusie die wijst op een bepaalde interpretatie. In dit geval was de muziek woordeloos (in de meeste gevallen) en had hij dus geen rol voor het publiek, wat de aandacht te meer vestigde op het fragmentarische karakter van het stuk. De momenten van reflectie worden dan momenten van concentratieverlies bij het publiek. Doordat de kijker geen leidraad krijgt onder de vorm van muziek, brabbelen de personages erop los zonder dat de kijker eigenlijk begrijpt waarover ze het hebben.

Een Duitse journalist van de Süddeutsche Zeitung zei het zo:

„Das geht insofern in Ordnung, als Simons mit Blick auf die großen Spielstätten seiner Europatournee mit dem Stück den Kasimir, die Karoline und all die anderen nur als Darsteller einer rockigen Depressionsoper angelegt hat. Da kann es eben vorkommen, dass sie vergeblich den Sprachrhythmus Horváths suchen. Es gibt aber auch Momente, in denen Simons ganz bei Horváth und die Zuschauer ganz bei Simons sind:“

“[De voorstelling] is in orde in zoverre Simons, met alle grote theaters in Europa in gedachten, met Kasimir, Karoline en alle anderen een grote tragedie wilde op de bühne zetten. Maar het is ook zo dat [de acteurs] het spreekritme van Horváth tevergeefs zoeken. Er zijn evenwel ook momenten waar Simons bij Horváth vertoeft en het publiek bij Simons.”

Inderdaad, Horváth had iets veel groters en veel diepers in gedachten dan een zielige tragedie. En dat heeft het NTGent zeker niet begrepen. Dus had het publiek gelijk als ze wegliepen, “boe” riepen of de uitvoering “chiant” vonden? Als het publiek wist over de stijl, symboliek, context en in het bijzonder Horváth kende, dan hadden ze zeker gelijk.

Bibliografie:

Walther Killy, Literaturlexikon. Autoren und Werke deutscher Sprache, Gütersloh, München: Bertelsmann-Lexikon-Verlag

http://www.kerber-net.de/literatur/deutsch/drama/horvath/symbolik.pdf

http://www.sueddeutsche.de/i5Z38Y/2981077/Geniessen-verdammt-noch-mal.html

De Nationale Feestdag van België: Is er iets te vieren?

2009-07-22T11:52:00.004+02:00

Het is een heikele kwestie en Vlamingen blijven erover praten: Walen hebben ons verfranst, willen ons nog altijd verfransen en zullen het blijven willen want ze willen geen Nederlands leren. Maar hier is de vraag is dat weldegelijk zo, of is dat een aangepraat probleem? Persoonlijk heb ik vijf jaar gewerkt in de professionele trainigssector Nederlands. Ik gaf les Nederlands aan bedienden, privé en klassikaal (met zes personen), naar de wensen van het bewuste bedrijf. Er was daar absoluut geen onwil te bespeuren om Nederlands te leren. Verre van. Slechte niveaus kwamen wel eens voor, maar in het algemeen konden Franstaligen zich zeker behelpen, zoals een Vlaming zich kan behelpen in het Frans. Maar wat maakt hier het verschil?

Naar mijn mening ligt het negatieve beeld dat Vlamingen van Walen hebben (arrogant, wil geen Nederlands leren want vindt dat Frans beter is en vertikt het dus van ook maar één ding in het Nederlands te doen) aan de perceptie alleen. Een perceptie die de media dankbaar voedt en die de politiek ook gebruikt en daardoor ook mede nog erger maakt. Als we naar de geschiedenis van Vlaanderen (hier: het Nederlandssprekend deel van België) kijken, dan zien we dat er al in 1876 opnieuw werd les gegeven in het Nederlands, al was dat dan gemengd met Frans. Al moeten we erbij zeggen: alleen in het Lager Onderwijs. De hele cyclus in het onderwijs werd afgerond met de NederIandstalige Rijksuniversiteit Gent in 1930 en het eenparig Nederlandstalig secundair onderwijs in 1932. In 1938 kwam daar ook het leger bij. (bron: Wikipedia) Wat maakt Vlamingen dan zo paranoia over de Franssprekende Walen? Uiteindelijk hebben we ondertussen al meer dan 70 jaar ons onderwijs en sinds 1993 hebben we zelfs een eigen staat. We hebben dus geen enkele reden om te klagen, want we hebben toch alles?

Waar is het misgegaan met het Nederlands? Vlamingen spraken sinds mensenheugenis Nederlands, waarom begonnen dan vooral de Vlaamse burgerij en adel opeens Frans te spreken zodanig dat alles (rechtspraak, administratie, onderwijs) verfranst werd? Het is een vreemd fenomeen, want de Engelse adel en burgerij spraken (naast Frans als tweede taal) Engels, de Duitse Duits, de Nederlandse Nederlands (“bekakt” Den Haags), de Russische Russisch, de Griekse Grieks. Maar de Vlaamse adel en burgerij spraken Frans en stuurden zelfs hun kinderen in het Frans naar school waardoor ze, dan wel totaal verfransten en zelfs geen Nederlands meer leerden aan hun kinderen, dan wel Nederlands spraken met hun pachters en als het niet anders kon. Nederlands stond niet goed, in tegenstelling tot in Nederland. Een prangend voorbeeld is de film Daens waarin één van de industriële vrienden van de Aalstse Franstalige katholieke politicus Woeste, een Nederlandse vrouw heeft. Zij praat consequent Nederlands tegen haar zoon, terwijl zijn vader (haar echtgenoot) er consequent Frans tegen spreekt. Ze spreekt zelf ook Frans, maar spreekt vaak Nederlands in tegenstelling tot de anderen die zweren bij Frans, wat duidelijk niet nodig is, want velen onder hen spreken Nederlands en zijn oorspronkelijk Vlamingen. Niet in het minst haar echtgenoot zelf. Wat bewoog Vlamingen ertoe Frans te spreken, zelfs thuis, en verfransing in hun Nederlandstalig deel van België toe te laten? Het is moeilijk te geloven dat Walen opeens hebben beslist om alles te verfransen en dat Vlamingen dat maar hebben laten gebeuren. Zoals altijd moet dit een geleidelijk proces geweest zijn, dat zijn wortels heeft in de geschiedenis zelf en waar eigenlijk niemand (Vlamingen noch Walen), of toch iedereen (Vlamingen en Walen), écht schuld aan heeft.

Als we kijken naar de geschiedenis van De Nederlanden dan zien we dat het concept “De Nederlanden” vooral is neergezet over twee eeuwen door de Bourgondiërs die er het centrum van handel en luxe van maakten. Ze maakten de Nederlanden een rijk tussen het rijk, met veel privileges en waarop iedereen jaloers was. Het kan niet verbazen dat toen al de administratie in het Frans te doen was, vermits de Bourgondiërs Fransen waren en het grootste deel van dat rijk afhing van Frankrijk. Maar toch was er een bloeiende Nederlandse literatuur in de Rederijkerskamers over heel het grondgebied. Die symbiose van onafhankelijkheid van heerschappij veranderde toen de Oostenrijkse keizer Jozef II zijn neus begon te steken in het onafhankelijk bestuur van De (Oostenrijkse) Nederlanden. Jozef II werd satirisch “de koster” genoemd omdat hij zich overal mee bemoeide en een centraliserende politiek voerde. Ongetwijfeld uit Voltairiaanse despotische ideeën, maar bij De Nederlanden (die gewoon waren aan hun eigen onafhankelijkheid en die hun hertog bij zijn Blijde Inkomst eerder “aanvaardden” i.p.v. dat de hertog zelf over hen heerste) viel dat niet in goede aarde. Oostenrijk voerde zijn administratie in het Frans (stammend van de Bourgondiërs) en die praktijk ging door onder de kortstondige Franse bezetting. Maar hier stak een ander probleem de kop op.

De Franse bezetting van 1745 tot 1748, die zijn wortels had in de Oostenrijkse Successieoorlog, bracht nog een “bedreiging” voor het Nederlands. De Roccocco-periode is een Franse periode bij uitstek. De periode waarin Frankrijk nog groot was, waarin Louis XIV nog vers in het geheugen zat, en een periode van decadentie aan het Franse hof, een periode waarin de autoriteit van de Franse mode zich zelfs doorzette tot in England en heel Europa. Rousseau had in 1772 in zijn Considérations sur le Gouvernement de Pologne geschreven:

“De nationale gebruiken geven vorm aan het ‘genie’, het karakter, de eigen aard en zeden van een volk, ze maken dat het dát volk is en geen ander en ze inspireren het tot een vurige vaderlandsliefde, die gebaseerd is op onuitroeibare gewoonten […] Een grote natie heeft ongetwijfeld veel van deze eigen burgerlijke en huiselijke gebruiken, die allicht iedere dag meer ontaarden door de algemene strekking in Europa om de modes en de zeden van de Fransen over te nemen. Behoud en herstel de oude gebruiken, voer passende, nieuwe gebruiken in die aan de Polen eigen zijn.”

Het is opvallend dat een Fransman opmerkt dat er in die periode een algemene tendens was om Franse gebruiken over te nemen! Zo ook in Vlaanderen zo blijkt, want in 1788 publiceert ene J.B.C. Verlooy, een leidend figuur van de Vlaamse Beweging, uit onvrede met de politiek van de Oostenrijkse keizer en in een Vlaanderen vol politiek tumult, zijn essay Verhandeling op d’on[m]acht der Moederlyke Taal in de Nederlanden. In dit essay klaagt hij aan dat er geen uniforme spelling is, maar vooral dat er een minachting schijnt te zijn van Nederlandssprekenden voor hun eigen taal. Hij schrijft dat sommige Brusselaars in gezelschap of op straat hun moedertaal slecht spreken om de indruk te wekken dat ze in het Frans opgevoed zijn en dat “[men] onze joeffrouwen nooit met eenen vlaemschen kerkboek [zal] zien: en gebeurde dit, het schaemrood zou haest daer zijn.” Alles van cultuur was in het Frans te doen en Frans was een statussymbool. De Verlichting trok bovendien nog eens een parallel met de Romeinse periode waarvan men de neergang toeschreef aan het dwepen met de Griekse cultuur. Om samen te vatten: de opvatting was dat een volk dat zijn eigen cultuur verloochent en een andere in de plaats probeert te brengen, in geen van beiden meer uitblinkt en geen van beiden meer begrijpt en als dusdanig als “volk” niet meer bestaat. Alzo zag Verlooy de Vlamingen afglijden naar slechte morele diepten omdat ze naar het Frans gericht waren. Toen al…

Verlooy klaagt weliswaar aan dat de kinderen in het lager onderwijs Frans leerden, maar alleen omdat dat hun kennis van het Nederlands als moedertaal in de weg staat. Hij argumenteert verder nog voor een Nederlands toneelleven met oog voor wat er “bij de Hollanders” te vinden is en ook bij de Fransen en Duitsers, via vertaling welteverstaan.

Het is opvallend dat al vóór de onafhankelijkheid van België er een probleem lijkt te zijn. De verfransing van Vlaanderen is dus inderdaad een geleidelijke evolutie geweest die Vlamingen zelf in de hand hebben gewerkt. Dit wordt niet in het minst bewezen door Verlooy in zijn essay: niemand verplichtte de Brusselaars van Frans te spreken op straat, Jozef II verbood geen Nederlandstalige toneelvoorstellingen, niemand verbood Nederlandse kerkboeken, maar de mode was Frans. Het zielige aan de hele zaak is dat Nederlandssprekenden er zelf voor kozen dat Nederlands minderwaardig was en Frans beter was: Franse literatuur was beter, Frans toneel was beter, Franse filosofie was beter, Franse mode was beter, Franse architectuur was beter. Door het dwepen met Franse cultuur begon net de klasse die voor cultuur moet zorgen, die Austens en Byrons produceert – mensen die tijd en geld hebben om zich te wijden aan kunsten, of te investeren erin -, de verfransen en daardoor produceerde diezelfde klasse geen grote schrijvers of dichters. Terwijl we in England tijdens de jaren 1800 op zijn minst tellen: Jane Austen, Sir Walter Scott, Alfred Lord Tennyson, Lord Byron, Robert Burns, Percy Shelley, William Wordsworth, Samuel Coleridge, Charles Dickens, Mary Louisa Alcott, de zussen Brontë, William Makepiece Thackeray, Thomas Hardy, George Elliot, Mark Twain, Oscar Wilde, Rudyard Kipling (19); terwijl we in het Frans gedurende dezelfde periode tellen: François-René de Chateaubriand, Victor Hugo, Alexandre Dumas père, Prosper Mérimée, George Sand, Charles Baudelaire, Gustave Flaubert, Louis Ménard, Alexandre Dumas fils, Charles De Coster, Jules Verne, Emile Zola, Paul Verlaine, Guy de Maupassant, Arthur Rimbaud, (Maurice Maeterlinck,) Gaston Leroux, Guillaume Appolinaire (17-18). In Vlaanderen tellen we: Hendrik Conscience, (Pieter Frans van Kerckhoven,) Guido Gezelle, Virginie Loveling, Leonard Buyst, Albrecht Rodenbach, Cyriel Buysse, Stijn Streuvels, Karel van de Woestijne (9). Er is duidelijk een hemelsbreed verschil. Volgens demografische gegevens zou dit hoger moeten geweest zijn.

Nadat de Vlamingen zich vrolijk hadden gericht op het Frans, kwam de kroon op het werk: een politieke agenda:

Na de Belgische Omwenteling en de Nederlandse schaamteloze onderdrukking van de Franssprekenden in Wallonië was er een duidelijk plan om een hereniging met Nederland permanent de kop in te drukken. Charles Rogier zei het zo in 1832:

“Les premiers principes d'une bonne administration sont basés sur l'emploi exclusif d'une langue, et il est évident que la seule langue des Belges doit être le français. Pour arriver à ce résultat, il est nécessaire que toutes les fonctions civiles et militaires soient confiées à des Wallons et à des Luxembourgeois; de cette manière, les Flamands, privés temporairement des avantages attachés à ces emplois, seront contraints d'apprendre le français, et l'on détruira ainsi peu à peu l'élément germanique en Belgique.”

“Een van de eerste principes van een goede administratie is gebaseerd op het eenparig gebruik van één taal, en het is duidelijk dat alleen het Frans de taal der Belgen kan zijn. Om dit resultaat te bereiken is het nodig alle ambtelijke en militaire functies alleen toe te wijzen aan Walen en Luxemburgers; zo zullen de Vlamingen, tijdelijk aan de voordelen van deze beroepen onttrokken, verplicht zijn om Frans te leren, en zo zal beetje bij beetje het Germaanse element van België verdwijnen.”

Er was weldegelijk een politieke agenda om het Frans op te waarderen en het Nederlands langzaam te laten wegzakken, maar we moeten dit wel in een context zien. Hier is een land dat zich eenzijdig heeft onafhankelijk verklaard, en dat nog fragiel is. Bovendien aast de Nederlandse koning nog altijd op België, al ware het om de ontluikende industrie en de natuurlijke delfstoffen in het zuiden, en dan is er de Nederlandstalige Vlaamse minderheid die er geen geheim van maakt zich te willen aanhechten bij Nederland (Vlaamse Beweging). De Vlamingen waren dus een politiek gevaar dat zich tegen de meerderheid kon keren in geval de Nederlandse koning overging tot een aanval (waar zeer zeker plannen voor ware. Bron: Knack). Dus elke Vlaming was verdacht en een mogelijk lid van de Vlaamse Beweging. Daarom besloot de meerderheid (dus de Franstalige meerderheid, want dat deel van de Belgische bevolking was groter) de minderheid wat “manieren” bij te brengen. Het is schrijnend van te weten dat er alleen geïnvesteerd werd in Wallonië en dat Vlaanderen wegzakte in een cultuurloos dal van landbouw en hongersnood. Maar, waar waren dan die paar Vlamingen die behoorden tot de intellectuele klasse? De rijken in Vlaanderen, die ook intellectuelen waren en die ongetwijfeld ook bepaalde functies bekleedden, moeten Nederlands gesproken hebben. Maar zij deden niks. Nochtans werd er gelobbyd want in 1872 werd het Nederlands opnieuw toegelaten in het secundair onderwijs. Blijft wel de vraag waarom de eerste school pas haar deuren opende in 1889! (bron wikipedia) Het houdt geen steek dat de Vlaamse elite die zulke functies bekleedde, zichzelf moest verfransen, permanent. Niets belette hen van in het Frans naar school te gaan (opgelegd door de staat), in het Frans te werken (opgelegd door de staat) en hun administratie in het Frans te doen, maar daarnaast ook Nederlands te spreken en Nederlandse kunsten te publiceren (poëzie en proza). Daar kon de Franstalige elite niets van zeggen, zeker niet nadat alle politiek en diplomatiek tumult over was. Zulk een groot risico was het blijkbaar niet, want Hendrik Conscience en Guido Gezelle publiceerden hun werk. En trouwens, heeft deze episode in de Belgische geschiedenis nog wel veel uitstaans met de huidige problemen?

We worden niet meer gediscrimineerd, maar we zijn de uitspraken van bijvoorbeeld Rogier nog niet vergeten en daarin ligt volgens mij het probleem. Het is alsof we ze niet willen vergeten en blijven constant leven met het idee dat de boze Franstaligen aan de andere kant van de taalgrens ons willen zien Frans spreken. Dat is een perceptie die niet klopt. We hebben het Frans stukje bij beetje teruggedrongen en hebben nu een punt bereikt waar we onze eigen cultuur (cultuur, eventuele gebruiken) kunnen vieren zonder erop aangekeken te worden. Wat is dan toch het probleem in de faciliteitengemeenten?

Het bevreemdt me dat we zo bang zijn van de Franstaligen die er wonen. We willen dat ze hun documenten in het Frans alsmaar weer aanvragen (waarmee we onszelf opzadelen met meer werk) en we laten hen maar één keer in de week toe om in het Frans bediend te worden (in Tervuren is dit het geval, door nota bene dezelfde bediende die er altijd zit). Volgens Rousseau waren het de gebruiken die een volk een identiteit als “volk” geven. Dus wat maakt die mensen Waals? Hun gebruiken, als er al specifieke Waalse gebruiken zijn die totaal verschillend zijn van de Vlaamse. Waar zijn wij Vlamingen bedreigd in onze identiteit als we de modale Waal zijn administratie laten in het Frans afhandelen? Niet lijkt mij. Maar, als de meerderheid nu Franstalig is in zo een gemeente? Franstaligen in de meerderheid in de gemeenteraad, Franstaligen in het stadhuis, Franstalige voorstellingen in het cultuurhuis enz. Dat maakt de Vlamingen in die gemeente niet minder Vlaams. Zolang de faciliteitengemeenten bij het Vlaams Gewest horen, zullen Vlamingen kunnen/moeten bediend worden in het Nederlands, zullen ze kunnen/moeten hun rechtsgedingen voeren in het Nederlands, zullen ze mogen cultuurvoorstellingen houden in het Nederlands. Zelfs als de meerderheid van de mensen in de gemeente Franstalig is. De meerderheid verandert niets aan de wet. Dat is het verschil met de tijd van voor de federalisering, want indien er meer Franstaligen waren, verfranste het hele boeltje omdat er geen enkele wettelijke bepaling was die verbood dingen in het Frans te doen. Als de vraag slinkt, slinkt het aanbod natuurlijk ook. Maar wat deden die Vlamingen dan die in een Franstalige gemeente woonden: ze spraken Frans en gaven het uiteindelijk op van Nederlands tegen hun kinderen/kleinkinderen te spreken. Daar ligt volgens mij het echte probleem. Aan de andere kant is het verbieden van scholen in een andere taal en verenigingen in een andere taal geen goede oplossing, want wat gebeurt er dan? In deze tijd van vervoer, rijden ze gewoon over de grens. Nederlandstalige kinderen in Franstalige gemeenten net over de taalgrens als Beauvechain bij Leuven, gaan naar school in de Nederlandstalige gemeente en blijven ten hoogste in de gemeenteschool tot ze moeten leren lezen. Franstaligen die een Frans toneelstuk willen zien, rijden naar Brussel. Dus ieder blijft wonen waar hij woont en viert zijn taal ergens anders. Is er dan een verschil? Ja en nee. Nee, omdat mensen blijven Nederlands of Frans spreken thuis en dus niet Waal of Vlaming worden. Ja, omdat diezelfde mensen die anders met elkaar in contact zouden komen en een gemeenschap vormen, dit nu niet langer doen omdat ze alleen in een gemeente wonen. Dit is een probleem, zeker rond Brussel, dat geregeld eens aangesneden wordt: mensen kennen elkaar niet meer en vormen geen echte gemeenschap. Als dusdanig kunnen we ook niet van hen verlangen dat ze bij de verkiezingen stemmen voor hun gemeente. Ze zullen dan eerder politieke keuzes maken en als dusdanig zet het communautaire probleem zich zelfs door op gemeenteraadsvlak, wat niet het geval zou mogen zijn.

Vlamingen showen graag met hun taalkennis. Mijn man, Engelssprekend zijnde, heeft dat altijd gefrustreerd: hij wou Nederlands leren, maar iedereen wilde mordicus Engels spreken tegen hem. Vlamingen halen zelfs gebrekkig Duits boven als ze willen, of de gekste talen als er maar een reden voor is. Het is ironisch dat mijn Franstalige studenten vaak kwamen met de klacht dat Vlamingen Frans spraken tegen hen en zelfs hen niet wilden de tijd laten om een Nederlandse zin te vormen. En deze mensen konden zich min of meer verstaanbaar maken. Het ging zelfs niet om studenten die een niveau 0 hadden. 90% van mijn studenten kwam met dit argument waarom hun Nederlands niet goed vooruitging. Ikzelf heb mogen genieten van het geduld van mijn Franstalige collega’s. Bij het begin van mijn job bij Xerox in Zaventem kon ik nauwelijks vijf woorden Frans na elkaar zeggen. Niet omdat ik nooit Frans had geleerd, maar omdat ik nooit Frans had leren spreken. Ik had dus wel de woordenschat, maar actief, snel spreken vergt oefening, en dat had ik niet gehad. Hadden mijn Franstalige collega’s nooit het geduld gehad van de luisteren naar mijn abominabel Frans, ik zou het nooit leren spreken hebben. En het was niet dat die mensen geen Nederlands spraken. De meesten spraken het heel goed.

Als we Verlooy er opnieuw bijnemen dan kunnen we concluderen dat Vlamigen al langer minachtend zijn over hun eigen taal. Daarom etaleren ze graag dat ze andere talen kunnen spreken. Maar hierdoor schaden ze wel hun eigen identiteit. Hierdoor zijn er ongelooflijk veel oorspronkelijk Vlaamse families die nu als Franstaligen geëindigd zijn. Hier is geen enkele aanwijsbare reden voor (zeker niet op één generatie) tenzij Vlamingen zelf beslisten Frans te spreken. En daarover komt de frustratie al boven voor generaties lang.

Recent ben ik naar Duitsland verhuisd en als buitenlander spreek ik natuurlijk geen perfect Duits. Mijn buurvrouw en haar man kunnen Engels, in tegenstelling tot andere buren, maar zij hebben nooit een woord Engels tegen ons gesproken, alhoewel ik er soms lang over doe. Als ik als buitenlander in Vlaanderen was gaan wonen, was ik nog altijd op mijn beginniveau geweest. Mijn Engelse familie had geen keuze, want zij spreken niets dan Engels…

Deze valse bescheidenheid komt ook tot uiting i.v.m. de Taalunie en de structuur van het Nederlands zelf. Omdat we in een unie zitten met Nederland, moeten de Nederlanders als taalgenoten natuurlijk ook hun zeg hebben, maar we hebben ons als Vlaming het Nederlandse “jij” laten opleggen en ook het Nederlandse “een”. Waar Vlaamse kinderen nog het verschil kennen tussen mannelijk, vrouwelijk en onzijdig, wordt op Vlaamse scholen hen aangeleerd dat we alleen in het woordenboek kunnen kijken om dit te weten te komen. Wat niet waar is. Een Vlaams kind duidt een stoel aan met “ne”, een tafel met “’n” en een kind met “e” en daarom weet het dat “stoel” mannelijk is, “tafel” vrouwelijk en “kind” onzijdig. De Nederlanders verwijzen consequent met “hij” naar “tafel”! Alhoewel dit duidelijk verkeerd is, wordt in het Groene Boekje hier niet over gerept en hebben alle woorden nu het label een “de-“ of “het-woord” te zijn, niet mannelijk of vrouwelijk, wat “de” impliceert. Verder worden woorden die vooral in Vlaanderen gebruikt worden in het Van Dale-woordenboek aangeduid met “Zuid-Nederlands” terwijl woorden zoals “nou” en “hartstikke” niet worden gelabeld. Vlamingen laten zich dus continu een rad voor ogen draaien, en lopen achter op de problemen. We kampen nog altijd tegen het Frans terwijl we daar politiek gezien niets meer van moeten vrezen, maar we laten de Nederlanders vrolijk onze taal “veklooien” om een lelijk woord te gebruiken of laten hen ons dingen opleggen zoals bijvoorbeeld “gij” dat door iedereen, 6 miljoen mensen, gekend is, maar volgens de Taalunie “een archaïsme” is, alleen gebruikt in de Bijbel, en, oh ja, door die mensen in het Zuiden. Bovendien beginnen alsmaar meer Vlaamse ouders hun kinderen op te voeden in het SN. “Heb jij dat gedaan?” en “Dat is een boek.” Nee, het is “Hebt gij dat gedaan?” en “Dat is nen boek.” Er is een tijd en een plaats voor alles. Niets belet dat kind van “een” te schrijven en misschien te zeggen op een sollicitatiegesprek en thuis Tussentaal (want zo wordt die Vlaamse versie van SN genoemd) te spreken.

Hetzelfde gebeurt met dialect. Het is niet omdat radio, tv en geschreven Nederlands uniform moet zijn, dat we nu opeens ook zo moeten praten. In Engeland heeft men ook vragen bij de rol die de BBC speelt in het afleren van dialect, maar dialect wordt nog veel meer gesproken. Ook regionale accenten vormen geen probleem op de BBC, in tegenstelling tot op de VRT waar een Antwerps accent al te veel is (Ruud Hendricks). Een mooi voorbeeld van een taal die opgewaardeerd wordt en is is het Welsh. Tijdens de 19e eeuw slonken de aantallen aan Welshsprekers door de komst van immigranten van Engeland. Zij leerden bijna nooit Welsh en de Welsh spraken dan maar Engels, wat allereerst voor tweetaligheid zorgde maar gradueel overging in eentaligheid Engels (waar hebben we deze situatie nog gezien?). In 1967 pas werd er toegelaten dat Welsh een officiële taal werd, terwijl in Vaanderen het Nederlands al langer van kracht was als officiële taal. Nu nog is er de meerderheid in Wales die geen Welsh spreekt, maar niemand schijnt dat erg te vinden. Hoewel, zij hebben altijd hun taal nog gesproken en het Welsh is nog altijd springlevend. In Wales is er nog altijd Engels als officiële taal, ook in het deel waar de meerderheid nog Welsh spreekt. Dus waarom hebben zij geen last van dat vijandige Engels terwijl de Vlamingen constant kampen met het Frans? Het is natuurlijk zo dat de Welsh nooit in een culturele woestijn zijn geraakt, niet zoals de Vlamingen. Zij gingen door met het publiceren van werken in het Welsh (dan vooral poëzie) en met het zingen van Welshe liederen. Vlamingen gingen dan wel door met het zingen van Vlaamse liedjes, maar niet met het bedrijven van cultuur als literatuur, theater enz. En waarom? De intellectuele klasse die Nederlands sprak vond dat niet staan en ging liever voor het Frans. Zo is het dus te begrijpen dat mensen als Maurice Maeterlinck, een Vlaming, de Nobelprijs literatuur kregen, maar voor werk geschreven in het Frans. En dat zien we nu ook met dialect en het Standaard Nederlands. Geen poëzie in het dialect, geen tv-programma’s in het dialect, alles in het SN. Alleen in de twee Vlaanderens en in Limburg wordt nog serieus dialect gesproken. Het is vreemd dat het Genks het nog heeft overleefd, en dat zonder de Noord-Afrikanen en de Italianen eruit te schoppen. In West- en Oost-Vlaanderen is men er ook in geslaagd van dialect te blijven spreken, maar in Vlaams-Brabant is het op sterven na dood. Wie naar Brugge gaat, weet het wel: verstaat u geen Brugs, dan heeft u pech. Zelfs als ze naar Leuven komen om te studeren, vragen ze zich af waarom niemand hen verstaat, al komt dat wel goed na en aantal weken of maanden daar. En er is zelfs een Wikipedia-encyclopedie in het West-Vloms. Zij, in tegenstelling tot anderen, maken geen uitzondering voor een buitenlanden: “U komt in Brugge wonen, u zult ons verstaan. Dat u ons in het begin niet verstaat, is uw probleem.”

Van deze instelling kunnen Vlamingen in het algemeen nog wat leren. Als we niet langer het normaal vinden van immigranten bij voorkeur in hun eigen taal aan te spreken in het begin, dan zorgt dat ook niet voor het welbekende probleem later: “Waarom kunt u na 20 jaar nu nog altijd geen Nederlands.” Een mens moet willen, maar moet ook kunnen. Als hij niet oefent, kan hij moeilijk leren. Aan de andere kant zal dat beetje Franstaligen niet opeens Vlaams worden door Nederlands te spreken of zal de rest van die Vlamingen in de randgemeenten rond Brussel niet opeens Franstalig worden omdat de meerderheid in de gemeente Franstalig is. Ik word niet Duits omdat ik nu opeens Duits spreek in Duitsland. Een mens wordt alleen anderssprekend als hij vrijwillig een andere taal begint te spreken thuis, tegen zijn kinderen enz. Ik ben er mij bewust van dat, als mijn kinderen hier opgroeien en met een Duitse(r) trouwen, ze hoogstwaarschijnlijk niet meer Nederlands tegen hun kinderen zullen spreken. Engels misschien wel omdat dat nuttig is, maar Nederlands niet. Hetzelfde moet gebeuren in de tweede generatie met Vlamingen die verhuisd zijn naar Wallonië: welk kind van Vlaamse ouders gaat nog consequent Nederlands spreken tegen zijn kinderen als hij/zijzelf getrouwd is ook met een Waal? Maar zelfs dan verandert dat kleine beetje Nederlandstaligen dat Franssprekend wordt, niets aan het volk “Vlamingen” (dat deel van de Belgen dat Nederlands spreekt). Het feit dat men in de minderheid is, wil niet zeggen dat men dan ook zijn eigenheid verliest: er is een streek rond Berlijn waar nog altijd (na honderden jaren) iets als Nederlands wordt gesproken (Flamingisch), er is een Welshe gemeenschap in Argentinië, in Suriname wordt nog altijd Nederlands gesproken. Het is onze eigen verantwoordelijkheid of we een gebied laten verfransen of niet, niet de verantwoordelijkheid van de immigranten, of die nu Franstalig of Berbers zijn.

Het is een probleem dat al langer aansleept, de Vlaming die zijn eigen taal ziet als minderwaardig. Eerst was het Frans, dan was het SN. Er moet dringend iets aan die Vlaamse instelling gebeuren, want de frustratie is duidelijk merkbaar in onze instelling tegenover Franstaligen. Die mensen willen, maar kunnen niet omdat we met zijn allen weigeren geduld te hebben tot die mensen Nederlands kunnen, serieus om hun belastingsbrief in te vullen. Zelf vragen we niet om faciliteiten in gemeenten zoals Beauvechain. “Niet aan gedacht.” Maar dan veronderstellen we wel, als dat argument eens naar boven komt, dat dat dan wel weer zou geweigerd worden door de Franstaligen. De jongere generatie Vlamingen vraagt zich niet meer af wat Rogier heeft gezegd of wat Kardinaal Mercier heeft laten uitschijnen, maar Franstligen vragen zich dat evenmin af. Elk heeft zijn eigen taal, dat is fijn, laten we dan elk een duidelijke administratie opstellen in die eigen taal en niet langer verlangen dat we elkaars werk doen. Dan moeten Franstaligen geen Nederlandse dingen meer doen en Nederlandstaligen geen Franse dingen. Of we moeten allemaal perfect de twee talen spreken, maar dat vergt een federaal onderwijs en niet een gewestelijk. Alleen door eenheid kan zulk een toestand afgedwongen worden. Als elk gewest zijn eigen eindtermen kan bepalen, dan komt er een ongelijke toestand zoals nu het geval is en zoals eigenlijk ook al in de 19e eeuw het geval was, maar nu door de Vlaamse arrogantie.

Het is tijd dat we zand gooien over het verleden en met elkaar naar de toekomst kijken, alleen zo zullen we een consensus bereiken zonder compromis, een consensus die goed is en geen Belgisch lapmiddel. Het is door het gebrek aan vertrouwen dat Vlamingen en Walen nooit kunnen overeenkomen iets te doen. Vlamingen denken dat Walen niet willen en Walen denken dat Vlamingen separatisten zijn en dat toegeven toch geen zin heeft want dat het uiteindelijk toch leidt tot onafhankelijkheid. Als we dan het debat uit de politiek halen, die toch moet dienen om stemmen te houden en te krijgen, dan zouden we misschien ergens raken. Als de Vlamingen dan toch zo gebrand zijn op onafhankelijkheid, zouden ze niet moeten treuzelen en zichzelf onafhankelijk verklaren. Ikzelf zou dat niet doen, want groter is beter, in alle omstandigheden. Als we willen samen blijven, dan moet Brussel of de Duitse Gemeenschap een grotere stem krijgen, want federalisme met twee ontaardt altijd in een discussie over splitsing (o.a. Leo Tindemans). Vermits Brussel ook binnen het communautaire zit, is het misschien wijs van de efficiënte Duitsers erbij te halen. Zij zulle het probleem bekijken op een nuchtere en neutrale manier, want zij hebben niets te maken met de communautaire rimram.

Het is tijd voor een grote hervorming in België, maar een permanente hervorming die duurzaam is. Ze is nodig om frustraties te vermijden en ook om te vermijden dat we in een Tsjecho-Slowaakse situatie verzeilen. Vele separatisten halen Tsjecho-Slowakije aan als voorbeeld voor België met hun fluwelen revolutie, maar weten ze ook wat er is gebeurd, toen? Het ironische aan heel de zaak is dat noch de Tsjechen, noch de Slowaken echt wilden splitsen en dat noch de Tsjechen, noch de Slowaken er nu positief tegenover staan. Zoals Tindemans zei in een artikel een aantal maanden geleden in De Standaard leidt federalisme met twee altijd tot een discours over splitsing. Dit was niet minder waar met Tsjecho-Slowakije. Toen twee leidende rechtse politici moesten onderhandelen over een regering, kwamen ze er niet uit, zoals Leterme er niet uitkwam. Ze hebben toen de handdoek in de ring gegooid en samen beslist van liefdevol uit elkaar te gaan, maar geen van beiden vond dat echt een goede oplossing en beide bevolkingen stonden voor het voldongen feit dat ze nu Tsjech of Slowaak waren. Ze stonden niet achter hun eigen onafhankelijkheid, niet zoals de Kosovaren achter de hunne staan (wat Servië daar ook moge van vinden). Dit is nu ook het geval in België. De meeste Vlamingen willen wel een staatshervorming omdat de staat België een puinhoop is, maar willen Vlaanderen niet onafhankelijk zien. Wat andere luidere stemmen ook mogen beweren.

Daarom zou ik zeggen:

Roep een nieuw grondwetgevend congres samen van academici: politicologen, sociologen en leidende politici zoals Eyskens, Tindemans, Dehaene (kortom de oude krokodillen) en laat hen de staat België opnieuw uittekenen. Vraag desnoods de Zwitsers om hulp, maar hou vooral de politici die stemmen moeten halen erbuiten, want zij zijn vooral bezig met hun populariteit. Dit probleem gaat niet over populariteit, maar over geld (het doodbloeden van de sociale zekerheid, de begroting van de Belgische Staat die wordt ondermijnd door het communautair debat (Vlaanderen dat de federale staat niets meer wil geven dan een evenwicht), een chaotisch kluwen van bevoegdheden (kankerpreventie zit bij de Gewesten terwijl behandeling in de sociale zekerheid op federaal niveau zit), om nog niet te spreken van het overaantal aan ministers en parlementsleden dat allemaal moet betaald worden door de burger) en over een maatschappij die dringend aan herziening toe is. Hoe kan men een pluralistische maatschappij prediken terwijl men nog niet eens zich kan verstaan met een Waal, die nota bene zelfs Belg is?

Bibliografie:

Onder redactie van M.A. Schenkeveld- van der Dussen, Nederlandse Literatuur, een Geschiedenis, Uitgeverij Compact, 1998, ps 383-388

Wikipedia

Knack

De Standaard

Wat is er mis met Vlaamse comedy?

2009-06-20T12:50:00.000+02:00

Naar aanleiding van het vertrek van FC De Kampioenen, is er een debat losgebarsten over wat er nu voor in de plaats moet komen. In De Standaard, zei een journalist het vandaag zo: “Met De boerenkrijg wilde men een onderwerp uit de vaderlandse geschiedenis nemen, als een soort Vlaamse tegenhanger van 'Allo 'Allo, maar dan koos men een periode waar bijna niemand nog iets over weet. 'Black Adder daarentegen grijpt terug naar de grote periodes in de Britse geschiedenis, die nagenoeg elke Brit nog kent', stelt Thielemans.” Wat is er nu zo goed aan Britse comedy dat we missen in Vlaamse comedy?

In mijn idee is het niet zozeer herkenning dat een rol speelt. Het onderwerp van The Black Adder is dan weliswaar een man in een historische periode, maar dat is niet zozeer van belang. Een tweede zoon van een kroonprins die de nek van de koning, per ongeluk, omwringt was nog maar het uitgangspunt. De rest van de serie concentreerde zich rond het feit dat Prince Edmund zichzelf vooral koning wilde zien. Iets dat natuurlijk zijn vader, noch zijn broer, noch zijn moeder een normaliteit vonden. De serie op zichzelf was erg gebaseerd op Shakespeares toneelstukken. De naam van Edmund alleen al roept referenties op van King Lear. Maar Macbeth bijvoorbeeld zit er ook in, en niet alleen in de zin van de “rise to power”, maar ook in concrete situaties zoals de drie heksen. The Black Adder was vooral grappig omdat de prins zelf een looser was en zijn hulpjes eigenlijk nog de slimste waren.

Blackadder II ging dan over edelman Edmund Blackadder en maakte een breuk met The Black Adder in de zin dat Blackadder zelf nu duidelijk de meest intelligente was. Het was een verandering die noodzakelijk was voor de comedy-waarde, zo beslisten de schrijvers. De Shakespeariaanse referenties gaan verder met zinnen als “hey, nonny nonny” en personages als Bob die een meisje in jongensvermomming is, een knipoog naar de vrouwelijke rollen in Elizabethaans toneel die werden gespeeld door onvolwassen jongens. Maar het is niet alleen de legendarische domheid van Baldrick en de naïviteit van Lord Percy Percy die een rol spelen als schril contrast tegen de superieure intelligentie van Edmund, het is het continue belang dat Edmund Balckadder heeft bij het tevreden stellen van Elizabeth I die nog een tienermeisje blijkt te zijn en die nogal snel iemands hoofd eraf wil zien. Ze beledigt ongestoord de mensen, verlangt dat ze kruipen omdat zij nu eenmaal de koningin is, verwacht dat ze haar bezighouden met interessante verhalen, gaat zelfs zo ver van weddenschappen af te sluiten en dan Blackadder er te laten voor betalen. Als ze haar zin niet krijgt, dreigt ze er steevast mee hun hoofd te laten afhakken. Voor een edelman is het belangrijk dat hij goed staat aan het hof. Vandaar dus het tegenstrijdige belang voor Blackadder van als een marionet voor de koningin te dansen, die hij in het geheim minacht. Niet minder zielig en belachelijk is Stephen Frye in zijn rol als Melchett of “Melchy” zoals Elizabeth hem noemt. Hij kruipt voor zijn koningin, of is misschien al even weinig ontwikkeld als zijzelf.

Blackadder III zet Backadder in een nog meer ondergeschikte positie tot een nog ergere sukkel: butler bij Prince Regent George. De zoon van een gekke vader, moet ook wel gek zijn, zo zullen de scenaristen gedacht hebben. Ze maakten hem een ultradomme man die alleen feest en sokken koopt omdat ze continu verdwijnen. Blackadder, daarentegen, doet toch zijn voordeel als elke butler en drijft een handeltje in diezelfde sokken en laat ook graag zijn minachting blijken, dan vooral in de keuken. De Shakespeariaanse referenties zijn hier ook al niet ver te zoeken met de vloek rond Macbeth. Maar het is niet dat wat zo direct het comedy-element is. Het is de zieligheid van gefrustreerde Blackadder die uit die ondergeschikte situatie wil. Hij gebruikt nu voor het eerst de riemen die hij heeft om te roeien: troggelt zijn baas geld af, keert zelfs één keer de rollen om, manipuleert zijn baas en maakt hem continu belachelijk, iets waar Prince George duidelijk geen last van heeft want hij merkt het niet. Toch wil Blackadder heel graag uit die situatie, maar dat lukt hem niet. Het is dezelfde uitzichtloze situatie waarin Basil Fawlty zich bevindt. In een aantal historische situaties wordt dat concept uitgespeeld.

Blackadder goes forth is de ultieme comedy: een onveranderde situatie in elke keer dezelfde set. De serie speelt grotendeels in de loopgraven. Eén keer gaat ze weg naar het ziekenhuis, maar daar blijft de situatie ook hetzelfde. Altijd dezelfde vijf personages in twee groepen: drie in de loopgraven (Captain Balckadder, Lieutenant George en Private Baldrick) en twee in een kasteel comfortabel achter de frontlinie (Captain Darling en zijn baas General Melchett). De eerste episodes concentreren zich vooral in de loopgraven en geven de verveling weer van zulk leven en vooral de wens van Blackadder, een doorgewinterd soldaat, om eruit te raken. Hij probeert alles, maar het gaat verkeerd. Niet alleen dit concept, de frustratie van Edmund, maakt de serie zo leuk, maar ook de woordspelingen en onverwachte uitbreidingen waarop dit soort comedy zich vooral baseert. Bij gebrek aan leuke situaties zoals ze zich voordoen in ‘Allo ‘Allo! moet er iets anders in de plaats komen. Baldrick die zijn naam op een kogel probeert te kerven “omdat er ergens wel een kogel is met je naam op” (de kogel die je dood betekent m.a.w.). "Rat sauté"/"Rat fricassé"/"Rat au van” zijn goede voorbeelden van hoe een historisch gegeven (het eten van ratten in dit geval) wordt uitgebreid naar een grap (“rat run over by a van”). Of het concept koffie dat werd uitgebreid tot het bedienen van Captain Darling met koffie gemaakt van modder met suiker van haarschilfertjes, melk van kattenkots, schuim van speeksel en misschien nog cacao? Verder gaat de plot ook over het vermijden van de Big Push (de grote aanval) die Blackadder koste wat het kost wil vermijden. Hier ook weer het tegenstrijdig belang: Blackadder commanding officer is totaal niet van plan zijn orders uit te voeren en maakt geen geheim van zijn minachting voor Veldmaarschalk Haig die zveel mannen nutteloos de dood heeft ingejaagd. Daarenboven is slimme en sarcastische Blackadder nog eens 24u/24 opgezadeld met twee naïevelingen die de echtedraagwijdte van de oorlog en hun eigen lot niet schijnen door te hebben, en is hij jaloers op Darling die een comfortabele bureaujob heeft alhoewel hij hem niet daarvoor zo minacht (alleen cissy in het leger doet zulk een job).

Voor zover ik mij herinner ging De Boerenkrijg helemaal niet zo ver. Het is niet zozeer dat de mensen niet meer weten wanneer die Boerenkrijg zich afspeelde (1798), zeker niet als er Napoleontische soldaten op de scene zijn, het is eerder dat het potentiële comedy-element van Franse soldaten die gewoon rust willen en geen last, de hoogste officier die daar anders over denkt, de boerenbevolking die natuurlijk achter de vadsige Franse soldaten staat maar stiekem toch niet, de boerenmeisjes die noodzakelijkerwijs mooie Fransmannen zien, de plaatselijke adel die zich bedreigd voelt enz. niet uitgewerkt is. Het is het gebrek aan intrige en snelheid dat zulk een serie de das omdoet. Als er geen ontwikkeling is van in het begin (de komst van de Fransen) dan is er ook geen interessante wijdere plot die het initiële comedy-niveau van een lachwekkende situatie overstijgt.

‘Allo ‘Allo! heeft dat wel. Er was een duidelijke ontwikkeling van de eerste aflevering tot de laatste. Terwijl de plot van een aflevering draait om het laten ontsnappen van de British Airmen, zoals een aflevering van FC De Kampioenen draait rond een misverstand of iedereen tegen DDT, weet elke kijker dat het weer verkeerd zal gaan, zoals elke FC De Kampioenen-kijker weet dat DDT het onderspit zal delven of dat Carmen het weer verkeerd heeft begrepen. Waar het bij De Kampioenen stopt, gaat het echter verder bij ‘Allo ‘Allo!. De steevaste cock-up van het verzet is nooit de enige mop. Geleidelijk aan wordt de wijdere plot afgewikkeld: “The Fallen Madonna (with the big Boobies) by Van Klomp” heeft eerst twee kandidaat-eigenaars. Renée die het wil om te verkopen en de Duitsers die het hebben in beslag genomen en die het zelf willen voor na de oorlog. Als Hitler er lucht van krijgt, wil hij het ook hebben en stuurt de Gestapo (Herr Flick) om het te bemachtigen. Herr Flick wil het natuurlijk voor zichzelf houden en beslist van Hitler te bedriegen en hem een vervalsing te sturen. Bovendien wil het verzet ook een deel van het geld. Om te vermijden dat René er het leven bij inschiet en niets van het geld ziet, wordt er van in het begin een plan bedacht: één vervalsing en één echt schilderij. Van het moment dat Herr Flick ook interesse toont, komen er dus nog twee vervalsingen bij. Uiteindelijk zullen er vijf vervalsingen zijn en 1 echt schilderij. Het feit dat het verzet René onder druk zet en Gruber een oogje heeft op René maken de zaak er niet simpeler op, want iedereen heeft wel een belang dat niet strookt met de plannen van General von Klinkerhoffen of van de Gestapo, of van het verzet. Iedereen werkt dus uiteindelijk elkaar tegen en raakt verstrikt in een web van problemen zodat op een gegeven moment ze dingen moeten doen waardoor ze eigenlijk hun eigen kamp gaan tegenwerken (zoals het verzet dat de Duitsers uit een krijgsgevangenenkamp voor Britten gaat bevrijden omdat ze er anders mee dreigen René te arresteren, of de Duitsers die Renés escapades over het hoofd zien omdat ze graag in Renés café komen).

De situaties in ‘Allo ‘Allo! zijn ook zeer erg doorgedreven, zoals in Fawlty Towers. Niets is te gek. Moest het verzet zo te werk zijn gegaan, het Duitse leger had hen snel ontdenkt. Moest een hoteleigenaar zo te werk gaan, zijn hotel zou snel leeglopen (alhoewel de serie wel gebaseerd was op een hotel aan de Engelse kust), maar dat is nu net wat het minder realistisch en grappiger maakt.

Woordspelingen zijn hier ook niet ver af. Arthur Bostrom in zijn rol als Secret Agent Crabtree is een mooi staaltje dubbelzinnige woordspeling. Zijn zogezegd slechte Frans verschuilt een schat aan dubbelzinnigheden. “Good moaning” is niet alleen een verbasterd “Good morning” (met een gevocaliseerde r “mo-ning”), maar verschuilt ook het woord moaning als “zeuren”. Regelmatig spreekt hij van “pissing” (i.p.v. “passing”) wat refereert naar urineren. “I pissed your ciffy”. "I heard a shat" verschuilt "shat" als de OVT van het werkwoord "shit" dat niet alleen een "onbeleefd" woord is, maar dat ook nog eens zoiets al "kakken" betekent. Dit is een concept dat totaal los staat van de situatie, maar dat op zich fantastisch grappig is. Het is an sich niet grappig dat hij elke keer “good moaning” zegt als hij binnenkomt, maar het maakt de weg vrij voor zijn optreden en bereidt de kijker voor op weer een dubbelzinnigheid. De kijker lacht al bij de gedachte alleen en dat is waarom al na zijn eerste optreden, iedereen de volgende morgen op het bureau aankwam en “good moaning” wenste aan iedereen.

Maar de woordspelingen beperken zich niet tot Crabtree alleen. Ze bevinden zich ook, dan meer van seksuele aard, in andere situaties. Als Herr Flick in seizoen zes in zijn ondergoed, na een mislukt complot waarbij hij zich had vermomd, bij Helga binnenwandelt met een grote bal om zijn enkel in afwachting van een ondervraging door Colonel von Strohm, vraagt Helga hem: “Would you like to rest it on the desk?” (“Zou u het graag op het bureau laten rusten?”) De it heeft duidelijk voor het publiek niet alleen een praktische connotatie als verwijzend naar de bal om Flicks enkel, maar ook een seksuele connotatie vermits Herr Flick en Helga ooit een koppel zijn geweest. De grap wordt afgerond met Van Smallhausen die binnenwandelt met een kleine kogel aan zijn enkel en de vraag: “Why does he have a small one?” (“Waarom heeft hij een kleintje?”) Zo is er ook Bertorelli die op een bepaald moment een cadeautje voor Helga bij zich heeft. Hij heeft een gedichtje gemaakt en impliceert een rijm met titties (tietjes), naar Helga’s boezem kijkend. Alhoewel hij dit niet expliciet zegt (wat te vulgair is voor de BBC), heeft het publiek dit duidelijk door en maakt Helga hem duidelijk dat hij daar niet aan moet denken. Niet dat dat in zijn gedichtje stond, natuurlijk, maar ondertussen heeft iedereen er wel aan gedacht. Ook “the back passage” van René is erg populair.

Fawlty Towers is dan van een totaal andere orde. Er is niet zozeer sprake van referenties, intrige of woordspeling, nee, gewoon situationele comedy gone mad. In John Cleese eigen woorden was de zieligheid van Basil Fawlty de grootste verdienste van de serie. Humor en verdriet liggen erg dicht bij elkaar en de situaties waarin Basil verzeild zijn voor hemzelf vrij pijnlijk te noemen, maar voor het publiek grappig omdat ze anders afgebeeld worden. De situaties die zich afspelen in dat hotel zijn niet meer realistisch, maar daarom zijn ze net zo grappig. De uitgangssituaties zijn doorgaans gewoon, maar het is de overdreven reactie van Basil die de situatie meestal nodeloos verergerd. De legendarische uitspraak “Don’t mention the war” ("Spreek niet over de oorlog.") als er Duitsers op komst zijn, start een situatie waarin de vooroordelen van Fawlty naar Duitsers duidelijk op de voorgrond komen. Als hij denkt dat er een ongetrouwd koppel samen een kamer heeft, bespioneert hij ze enz.

Het is dus niet wat er aan het begin van een serie is (de uitgangssituatie) die belang heeft. Herkenning… Blackadder herkent niemand, want het is een totaal fictief personage, alhoewel zijn frustratie wel medelijden opwekt. Elizabeth I is nooit zo afgebeeld. Ze werd eerder afgebeeld als een sterke vrouw, maar haar rol als “vervelende tiener die alles te zeggen heeft” (of de onrechtvaardigheid ervan) werkt wel verrassend. Ditzelfde thema herhaalt zich in de derde serie waar Prince George een groot Baldrick-gehalte heeft. Enig verschil is natuurlijk, dat Baldrick mag worden afgeblaft van tijd tot tijd, maar dat dat bij een prins natuurlijk niet past... Alleen als de rollen omgedraaid zijn. In die zin werkt FC De Kampioen misschien wel herkennend, maar meelijwekkend? Nee. De enige die nog medelijden opeiste was Oscar: hij had een vrouw en een dochter die niet naar hem luisterden en een voetbalploeg al van hetzelfde en hij wilde het toch zo graag zo goed doen… Toen hij vertrok was er geen enkele figuur in de serie meer die sympathie opwekte bij de kijker. DDT, Bernard T Waterslaeghers en Fernand wekken niet genoeg medelijden op en zijn eerder de vijand. Een potentieel zeer goed comedy-personage zoals DDT met een tirannieke moeder en een spraakgebrek die koste wat het kst beter wil worden dan Van Roost, maa die jammer genoeg er de kenis net voor heeft, wordt gebombardeerd tot vijand waardoor hij de helft van zijn comedy-waarde verliest. Het probleem is ook grotendeels dat er in de serie geen enkel hoofdpersonage is. Alle personages zijn even belangrijk, waardoor een groot potentieel verloren gaat. Toegeven, ‘Allo ‘Allo! had een grote cast, maar het grootste deel daarvan had maar één of twee verschijningen in een aflevering. René begon altijd een aflevering met een samenvatting van wat er gebeurd was en daarna begon het verhaal, Crabtree kwam één keer iets zeggen, Michelle kwam ook één/twee keer, Edith moest één keer zingen en voor de rest werd het verhaal afgewikkeld, met de moeder die één keer moest roepen: “Will nobody ‘ear ze cries of an old woman!” ("Hoort hier niemand het geschreeuw van een arme oude vrouw?!") en René die één keer moest Ivette omhelzen en moest ontdenkt worden door Edith. René was hier weldegelijk duidelijk de hoofdfiguur. De plot draaide immers rond hem en zijn café alleen. In FC De Kampioenen draait de plot eigenlijk om wat? Niet om DDT of zijn opvolgers, niet om Pascal en haar café, niet om Pol en Doortje, niet om Boma. De reeks hoofdfiguren is te groot. De plot draait om een (slechte) voetbalploeg, maar de uitgangssituatie is na twintig jaar nog altijd dezelfde: een slechte voetbalploeg bestaande uit mensen, die een sjacheraar in de buurt hebben… In zekere zin is de serie vergelijkbaar met Oh! Doctor Beeching waarin het personeel van een Noord-Engels station in de jaren zestig een nieuwe stationschef Cecil Parkin krijgt, die het station a.h.w. moet redden van sluiting nu Doctor Beeching (legendarisch voor het dramatisch inperken van het steengoede openbaar vervoer in England) een studie maakt. Aanvankelijk wordt het iedereen tegen Parkin, maar geleidelijk aan wordt het Parkin en iedereen tegen Doctor Beeching. Alhoewel de serie nu niet zulk een groot succes was, mede door het feit dat er weinig mogelijke situaties waren waardoor de plot snel uitgeput was (zoals bij FC De Kampioenen), stond het in de traditie van klassieke Britse Comedy in de zin dat woordspelingen en geheimen weer een grote rol speelden. Maar zelfs hier was er een verdoken hoofdpersonage: Parkin zelf. Een man die van bescheiden komaf is, die opgeklommen is tot onderstationschef en die nu, in dit afgelegen station waar hij promotie moet maken, zijn oude liefde tegenkomt van tijdens de oorlog (May). De liefde laait weer op, maar zij is getrouwd en blijkt een dochter te hebben die moet verwekt zijn rond de tijd dat Parkin vertrok… Het is die dynamiek die de serie drijft. Iedereen tegen Parkin vergt dat May, nu serveuse van het stationsbuffet) ook hieraan meedoet, maar zij kan dit niet omdat ze medelijden heeft met Parkin en verdedigd hem contant tot grote verbazing van de anderen. Parkin denkt dat hij de vader van haar dochter is (wat uiteindelijk niet blijkt waar te zijn) en mede daardoor wordt hij opnieuw verliefd op May, met alle gevolgen van dien voor Mays man Jack die ziekelijk jaloers is (waarschijnlijk uit onzekerheid). Jack is stationschef ad interim geweest en voelt zich nu op twee fronten bedreigd door Parkin. Parkin wordt bovendien geminacht door iedereen voor zijn posh-heid en May heeft haar geheim nooit aan iemand verteld.

Fawlty Towers had ook een duidelijk hoofdpersonage, zoals Blackadder. En allemaal hebben ze een duidelijk kleinere cast, of een kleinere regelmatige cast. ‘Allo ‘Allo! heeft dan wel een cast van minstens twintig acteurs, maar gebruikt er maar echt 8 en de rest van de cast vervuld zijn rol als “middel om”: de British Airmen zeggen 1 keer “hello!” en komen eventueel eens terug in een situatie die hen past (oefenen voor het ontsnappen), Michelle komt 1 keer haar plan uit de doeken doen, Crabtree komt 1 keer een “message” geven van Michelle, Mr Alfonse komt ook eens zijn plicht doen, Herr Flick komt onder de duiven van de anderen schieten. Soms hebben ze een grotere rol, soms een kleinere, maar ze zijn “middel om” en verschaffen de kern René, Edith, Ivette en Mimi aan de ene kant, en Colonel von Strohm, Gruber, Bertorelli en Helga aan de andere kant een excuus voor hun bestaan en René in het bijzonder een probleem. Geleidelijk aan wordt de rol van Herr Flick wel groter, maar alleen na een lange tijd als we hem kennen. Hij zal echter nooit zelf een hoofdrol krijgen. In Fawlty Towers zijn het de gasten die de cast een reden van bestaan geven met de problemen die aan hen vasthangen. In Blackadder zijn het niet zozeer gastpersonages die het verhaal maken, maar historische gebeurtenissen (het eerste woordenboek, de vloek rond Macbeth, de verkiezing van William Pitt jr) of grote problemen van alledag (geen geld, verliefdheid op een jongen, spionage). Niets van dit alles speelt bij FC De Kampioenen. Er is niets dat de cast een reden van bestaan geeft, behalve hun eigen misverstanden en wens om hun “vijand” eronder te krijgen.

Het Eiland had ook twee duidelijke personages die medelijden opwekten: Alain en Guido Pallemans en daarna Michel Drets. Alle drie zijn ze meelijwekkend. Maar wat daar dan weer misliep was het feit dat het impliciete conflict dat gecreëerd wordt door het benoemen van een dienstlid tot manager van dezelfde dienst, niet ver genoeg werd uitgebouwd. Het personage van Lydia Protut was dan wel potentieel heel grappig (men vraagt zich af hoe ze ooit zo ver is gekomen), er was nog een ander sterker personage à la Bucky nodig om Pallemans helemaal de gordijnen in te jagen. Als Bucky dan eindelijk op het toneel komt, heeft hij te maken met een Michel Drets die zich makkelijk laat manipuleren en niet genoeg comedy-waarde heeft omdat hij te rustig is. Daardoor werd het einde eerder een drama dan een comedy.
Wat is er dus nodig voor goede Vlaamse comedy?

1 Als een mens drie keer kan kijken en het nog altijd hilarisch kan vinden, dan is het goed. Elke serie die alleen gedragen wordt door de situatie is niet meer leuk eenmaal de kijker weet wat er komt. Woordspeling en dubbelzinnigheid, daarentegen, blijven grappig.

2 Zorg voor een robuste basis met een hoofdpersonage en een aantal sidekicks. Te veel hoofdpersonages scheppen verwarring in het scenario.

3 Wees niet bang voor personages die komen en gaan. Gastpersonages zijn een grote vernieuwer en moeten niet altijd dezelfde zijn.

4 Zorg voor verrassing. De clou is geweest? Niets is minder waar, maak er nog een onverwacht staartje aan, desnoods later in de aflevering, of drijf een uitdrukking in een andere richting waarover de kijker nog niet gedacht had, laat een personage iets onverwachts doen, etc.

5 Zorg voor snelheid. Het probleem vooral met Vlaamse series, of het nu telenovelles zijn of komedies, is dat ze steevast te traag zijn. De spanning van het plan moet er nog zijn op het moment dat het plan in werking treedt. De spanning van het misverstand moet nog vers in het eheugen zitten als de clou eraan komt. Aan het einde van de aflevering mag het begin niet voelen alsof het een halfuur geleden plaats had, het moet maar vijf minuten geleden gebeurd zijn.

6 One-liners zijn goed, maar de comedy mag er niet op steunen.

7 Als er parodieën gemaakt worden, maak ze dan op zichzelf. 'Allo 'Allo! was een parodie op Secret Army, dat in samenweking met de BRT was gemaakt, maar steunt volledig op zichzelf. De kijker moet Secret Army niet gezien hebben om 'Allo 'Allo! te kunnen smaken.

8 Wees niet bang voor serieuze thema’s. Yes (Prime) Minister heeft geen andere plot dan een minister met veel illusies die hervormingen wil doorvoeren en een permanent secretary die die hervormingen niet wil… Maar drie personages: de minister Jim Hacker, Sir Humphry Appleby (permanent secretary) en de ietwat pedante private secretary Bernard Woolley. Thatcher zelf vond de serie zo grappig dat ze de Downing Street-kat die zomaar kwam opdagen op een dag, Humphry heeft genoemd.

9 Niet elk jaar moet een serie hebben en niet elk seizoen moet van dezelfde lengte zijn.

10 Ga vooral niet te lang door, al zijn de kijkcijfers goed. Er is niets zo erg als roemloos ten onder gaan. Er moet altijd nog materiaal over zijn als men stopt. Fawlty Towers heeft twee seizoenen van zes afleveringen gehad, Blackadder vier seizoenen over 9 jaar van zes afleveringen, Yes (Prime) Minister 5, Extras twee, The Office ook twee, Oh! Doctor Beeching ook twee, You rang M’Lord ook twee en Keeping up Appearances 5. ‘Allo ‘Allo! is een uitzondering met zijn 9 seizoenen over tien jaar. Twintig jaar, zoals FC De Kampioenen is dus zeker niet de norm.

11 Ga vooral niet voor een publiekspleaser, of toch niet wat men denkt dat dat is. Compromissen zijn op de BBC nooit gesloten. Wie niet graag kijkt, zet de tv af. Een beetje controverse kan nooit kwaad. Niets is te gek. Goede dingen worden meestal niet door iedereen gesmaakt.

12 Herhaal niet eindeloos. Een herhaling plannen na 2 jaar is veel te vroeg. De mensen moeten de serie vergeten zijn om weer te willen kijken. Herhaal dan ook niet elke zomer. Maak liever iets nieuws.

13 Wees niet bang voor overdreven gekheid. Comedy moet niet realistisch zijn, het moet leuk zijn. Een grap gedaan? Niets is minder waar. Drijf de grap door tot een nog hoger niveau., dat werkt verrassend en men ligt ermee in een deuk.

14 Wees ook niet bang voor parodie en satire. Lach vooral met uzelf. Laat vooral de politiek niet afschrikken, er is daar veel voer voor mooi materiaal en intelligente comedy. Als mensen niet graag intelligente comedy zien, dan zetten ze maar af, er zijn genoeg dvd’s van Gaston en Leo. De tijd van hen is voorbij, laten we nu meer iets maken dat aanleunt bij de moderne generatie die graag naar Fawlty Towers, ‘Allo ‘Allo! en dat soort dingen kijkt.

De Vlaamse comedy is volgens mij blijven hangen bij André Van Duijn en Gaston en Leo. Niets tegen die mensen, maar Gaston en Leo gaan al mee sinds de jaren… zestig (?) en André Van Duijn al sinds de jaren zeventig. Vernieuwing is een must.

Het Eiland was een goede poging, maar was nog niet gek genoeg. De serie had gebrek aan dynamiek omdat er niet genoeg comedy-personages waren. Liesje en Free hadden niet genoeg van dat zielige om goede comedy-personages te zijn. Waarom zitten ze er dan tussen? Ze zouden er moeten tussen gezeten hebben om sympathie op te wekken à la Guido Pallemans (de normalen tussen de gekken), maar dat was niet het geval. Waarom dan zulke personages erbij hebben? Vervang ze door beklaagbare desnoods herkenbare mensen en ziedaar, eureka. The Office waarop Het Eiland duidelijk geïnspireerd was, was veel grappiger omdat alles draaide rond de zielige manager die duidelijk geen erg had in wat er allemaal gebeurde achter zijn rug.

Onthou het VRT: vernedering of beklagenswaardigheid is alles. Als er vernederd wordt of in een moeilijke situatie gebracht wordt, wordt er gelachen. Basil Fawlty wordt vernederd, Blackadder wordt vernederd, René Artois wordt vernederd, Hyacinth Bucket wordt vernederd of vernedert zichzelf, Jim Hacker wordt steevast vernederd door Humphry. Extras was meestal zelfs teenkrullend van de vernedering. Allemaal zijn ze te beklagen. Hoe erger hun zieligheid, hoe erger het publiek lacht. Schadenfreude is nu eenmaal erg aanstekelijk, hoe erg dat ook mag zijn. Gebruik dat, VRT, en maak eens iets goeds.

And the millionth English Word is...

2009-06-09T10:31:00.000+02:00

Author: Dorien Knockaert

Language – Brussels – English daily acquires fifteen new words. That is what Global Language Monitor (an American technology-company) has calculated. According to its statistics, tomorrow the language will acquire its millionth word, while Dutch dictionary Van Dale not even counts 300,000 words…

From our editor

Will it be ‘de-friend’, ‘Mobama’ or ‘financial tsunami’? Global Language Monitor (GLM) that specialises in language trends, is eager to increase tension by Wednesday afternoon. Then it will finally announce what is, according to its measuring-system, the millionth English word. With its campaign, GLM wants to draw attention to the increasing growth of English and plans to proclaim it ‘the first real world-language’. ‘In 1960, 250 million people spoke English, mainly in the ex-colonies of the United Kingdom. Today, 1.53 billion people use English as their mother-tongue, their second or work-language,’ GLM says on its website.

Paul JJ Payack, the man behind GLM – not a linguist, but technology-expert – says he is totally sure that his software only counts words that are used a lot or that carry a lot of weight within their meaning. So for example names of unknown chemicals it does not take into consideration. The reason for his list being so enormous is simply the phenomenal growth of the English language, he says. ‘Daily 14.7 words enter the language.’

A million is so spectacularly much that the number encounters a lot of doubt, certainly among linguists. Also the fact that GLM’s system and aims keep on being quite vague, does not contribute to its trustworthiness. And whoever compares the number to leading dictionaries of English, sees a very big discrepancy. Merriam-Webster’s Third New International Dictionary has 476,000 words in it, Dutch dictionary Van Dale round about 268,000.

Although, dictionary-writers do not put all words they encounter in their dictionary. ‘It is totally wrong to presume that a word does not exist if it is not in a dictionary,’ says Ruud Hendricks, head editor of Van Dale. ‘We only put a word in the paper-edition of our dictionary if it has been in regular use for a number of years in newspapers and the like. And in order to avoid making the dictionary uselessly thick, we also take words out. For the electronic yearbooks we publish, we are less complacent: in there we will signal a new term much faster. This year, new terms will include a lot of expressions that popped up in the reporting on the financial crisis. Some, though, will disappear fairly quickly again.’

A language is uncountable for various reasons. Linguists know that. ‘Vocabulary is something infinite: one can always make new composites. We do not put all those into a dictionary as the meaning of most is instantly clear.’

It is right to say, however, that English is a very big and flexibly growing language, confirms Hendrickx. ‘The grammar imposes fewer limitations on word-use than in Dutch and the vocabulary is since the early days rich and divers: the basic material of English is Germanic, but because of the Normans, a lot of Latin words came into it and the Vikings added some Scandinavian ones. It is because of that that the English can say ‘pig’ to a pig that is alive, and ‘pork’ to a dead one. They have a treasure of language-material at their disposal.’

The nominees:

Financial Tsunami: the worldwide financial restructuring which made in a few months’ time collapse gigantic capitals and financial institutions.

Zombie banks: banks that would not exist anymore if they hadn’t been saved with public money.

Jai Ho: a Hindi expression that means as much as ‘halleluja’ and that became popular in English through the hit-film Slumdog Millionnaire.

Chiconomics: the art of looking chic and stylish despite the economic crisis.

Mobama: the style of the new American First Lady

Octomom: a mother of octuplets.

Green-washing: like one white-washes money, one can green-wash a piece of old rubbish: upgrading through presenting it as an environmentally friendly recycled product.

Slow Food: the opposite of fast-food: healthy, locally produced food.

De-friend: scrapping a ‘friend’ from your contacts list on a social networking site.

(the two articles were translated from De Standaard)

What Hendrickx forgets to say, however, is that the Taalunie (the Language Union between the Netherlands and Flanders (yes, we speak the same language!)) makes a sport of it to prohibit expressions, grammar-constructions and what-not because they are ‘false’… Despite the fact that they have been used by the great majority of people mostly in one part of the Union for years. If the construction is too French, it is called a Gallicism, too English equals an Anglicism, a second word for an old one (like the case ‘umbrella’ and ‘rain-screen’, but there are more ridiculous cases than that) is called a Purism, too old is an Archaism. What he also does not mention, and I suppose that is because he is now head editor of Van Dale (the leading dictionary in the Dutch language, like the Oxford English Dictionary in English), is that Flemish words (regionally used in Flanders mostly) are labeled in the dictionary ‘Southern Dutch’ while really Dutch words (from the Netherlands), known by Flemish people but never used because they are Dutch, are not labeled at all. True, we speak the same language, but it is a case like American and British English, with the same spelling. British English is not worth more than American English... British spelling is not worth more than American spelling. They are equally right, in their context. Therefore they are labeled the same...

Actually, let’s be frank, Dutch is a very pedantic language and English is not. English is free and just because of that it is used all over the world by people who add their own words to it… English would never have become a world language, if it had had the same approach as Dutch (‘no, that is not right, you have to say it like this.’). Jai Ho would just never have entered the Dutch list because it means the same as ‘halleluja’ and we already have that and so it is a Purism, probably. So would be the lot of ‘green-washing’ as that is a euphemism for ‘recycle’ and ‘chiconomics’ would not stand a chance because no-one would think about it.

Lost in Austen, an analysis (4/4)

2009-06-08T11:56:00.000+02:00

Episode 4 starts with the acknowledgement of Amanda, that never seeing Darcy again is the worst she will have to endure. Like she thought, and like it was clear to everyone, Darcy asks Caroline’s hand in marriage, although not without regret judging by his look… At this time, though, the most interesting part starts, both of the book and 1995 adaptation: Lydia runs off. This time not with Wickham (because he is an honourable guy now…) but with Bingley, who is sick of society. The two have learned a great deal of Miss Price and desire to get away from it all to go and learn in her place of abode: Hammersmith. Of course, not realising that the Hammersmith Amanda comes from is not the Hammersmith that they will go to…

Here for a first time we see discontent from Jane’s side about her father for whom ‘‘tis time he rose from his chair to do something for the good of the family’. Darcy is shocked, and obviously feels guilty, despite the fact that he does not want to tell Amanda that. But she sums it up for him: ‘You do whatever the hell you want, and afterwards call it principle.’ And she reproaches him that he and Caroline are made for each other… It was also no doubt principle from Caroline’s side to break his engagement up?

So, Mrs Bennet and Amanda return to Longbourn and meet Mr Collins’s three brothers: Probity, Elysium and Tinkler or Cymbal. Probity meaning integrity, Elysium being the place where the virtuous and heroes go after death, and Cymbal/Tinkler being derived from St Pauls first letter to the Corinthians, chapter 13, verse 1 (Love, the best way for all): ‘I may speak in tongues of men or of angels, but if I am without love, I am a sounding gong or a clanging cymbal.’ Or so at least it is according to Mr Collins. Although, with later Tinky Winky from the Teletubbies popping up, and Tinkler amusing himself with his trousers, we might be more inclined to think that Tinkler is a reference to something more concealed in the days of Austen… But more on that later… The allusion to St Paul’s letter is not so very far-fetched though as it is a text about the use of love: that one can surely do everything right, but that one is nothing without love; although one has money, belief and what-not, one is nothing without love. The three greatest things are faith, hope and love and the most important of the three is love. This is what Amanda is continuously searching for and what the others miss. Indeed, they live according to the principles evoked in the three brothers: Integrity (Probity), the after-life (Elysium) and without love (Cymbal), integrity being the most important. However, the three brothers are at the same time ridiculous (as in Austen’s satire), as Probity is sleeping, Elysium is drugged and Cymbal, as said before, amuses himself with his trousers. Integrity is indeed not real integrity if one is forced to be a certain way because of others, thus real integrity could be called asleep. Elysium is not a place where virtuous and heroes go if virtuousness and heroism are forced upon them. Cymbal, as it is used in 1 Corinthians 13:1 is not at all positive, but rather negative. As such, Andrews certainly gives a message in the three brothers.

After a little pause in which Mr Bennet decides to read a book instead of wanting to go and look for Lydia, Amanda can still persuade him to do something about Lydia’s honour and all three (Mr and Mrs Bennet and Amanda) leave for Hammersmith, where Bingley and Lydia have gone. There, they find not Amanda’s place as that is locked up because her parents Reginald and Nora have gone to Bath (something that Wickham has invented as an excuse), but Lydia and Bingley in the Jerusalem Inn… As they find them, they find Bingley making a spear like the ‘noble savage’ of Rousseau (this erroneously though), the fundamentally good person that has been corrupted by society and lost his skills because of it . Lydia, on the other hand is ‘bored’, by the lack of society as it seems… Darcy then turns up, making an excuse to save his friend, but Bingley protests it. Mr Bennet now challenges Bingley to a duel, Bingley who notably defends himself with his spear instead of a sword. Mr Bennet ends up hitting his head on the mantelpiece with great bleeding as a consequence. Despite Darcy sending for his physician ‘who will be [t]here within the hour’, Wickham saves the day with a woman who stitches Mr Bennet up.

Amanda now feels an urge to see Elizabeth, and passes through the door of the Jerusalem Inn through the door of a mobile toilet on a building site into modern day Hammersmith again. Her need now opened the door again. We might think she would feel at ease, but oddly enough she looks puzzled and does not know what to do. People are so touched by it, they hand her money as if she were begging and destitute. Nevertheless, she takes up the thread again and goes to her apartment, where she finds Michael who asks her where she has been, has apparently sent 75 texts and spoken 1,5 hours of voicemail so far. We could say that at last now she knows he cares… He has also sold his Bughatti to procure a holiday to Barbados, which was originally meant to be a honeymoon (aaah), but which will now serve as a normal holiday, as marriage seems out of the question. On his new motorcycle they decide to go and see Elizabeth who has become a nanny to the children of Dr and Mr Rosenberg. When Amanda and her boyfriend are sitting on the bike, she suddenly sees a very strange tableau In the modern streets of Hammersmith: on the side of the road, at the traffic lights, she sees Darcy she thought she had just left in the Jerusalem Inn; she sees a man, looking a little like her before: scared, lost and totally unaware of where he is, destitute; a man in need of help. She orders Michael to stop and runs to him, and it is then that he admits his mistake:

Amanda: You followed me?
Darcy: Are my wits disordered by opium? What is this dreadful place?
A: This is London, my London.
D: I will tell you this Miss Price, and it is true: the assembly rooms at Meryton. I danced with you, not in order to spare my friend, because I wanted to dance with you. Our entire acquaintance has been informed by my refusal to acknowledge this. But I have been blinded by pride. Charles, Georgiana, Wickham, you. I was calamitously mistaken in my judgment of you all. A fellow less big-headed would have realised from the start that what I felt for you was… What I felt for you was… love. I love you. I followed you to this infernal place because I would follow you anywhere. I would hallow hell to be with you.
A: What about Caroline?
D: I do not care enough to marry Caroline Bingley.
A: Do not tell me she is not a maid.
D: Of course she is a maid. I cannot marry her because I do not love her. I love you.
A: Ok, before we go any further there is someone you have to meet… right now, take my hand.

This dialogue stands on the same level as the dialogue in the original and the 1995 adaptation where Darcy proposes for the second time and pours his heart out. Cowan’s Darcy now admits to his pride, which provoked bad judgment and professes to love Amanda finally. Thus, he throws his buttresses off and like Firth’s Darcy, has swum in his pond. He has now washed himself of pride and prejudice, unlike what we were inclined to believe when he went literally into the pond according to the wishes of Amanda, swimming in the modern world, via the door that ‘[his] need’ obviously opens. He needs to become helpless, destitute with no buttresses or references at all in order to acknowledge that he loves Amanda.

Together Darcy and Amanda cross London on the bus to go and see Elizabeth. It is here that Tinky Winky from the Teletubbies comes into play: on the bus, there is a child reading a book Tinky Winky Counts. When they turn up at Elizabeth’s place (or the Rosenbergs’ place) Darcy looks to the side, to a pile of rubbish at the door (which was obviously Elizabeth’s doing) and says: ‘The gentleman on the Bath chair, I have seen his likeness’, he picks up the Teletubby and says: ‘Tinky Winky’. Very funny, certainly when we see the controversy about Tinky Winky a few years ago: Tinky Winky had been found gay by an American minister because of the red magic bag that looks like a woman’s handbag (purple boy + handbag + reversed triangle = gay). The controversy went so far that children’s psychologists were needed to calm the people down about possible subliminal messages about homosexuality in the Teletubbies. The fact that Tinky Winky is professed to sit on a Bath chair by Darcy, could be called an indication of Andrews about the restraint of Regency Society: a Bath chair namely looks the same as a three-wheel buggy, and that was obviously what stood at the door of the Rosenbergs (Elizabeth not knowing what the hell to do with it), but the thing was not used for babies in those days, the thing was used to bring invalids to the baths in Bath (hence its name Bath chair, maybe also given due to its shape as old-fashioned bathtub). As Tinky Winky is sitting on a Bath chair, might we suppose that ‘he couldn’t’, like Caroline professes that she will marry Darcy despite not wanting men in her life emotionally at all, she ‘can’t’ be lesbian ? Mr Collins’s brother Tinkler might also be a reference to Tinky Winky. He at least amuses himself with his trousers, as does his brother by the way, who has notably a very clear red handkerchief that could refer to Tinky Winky’s red magic bag... Why, is the question. However, the verb ‘tinkle’ can also mean ‘urinate’, so the connection between the male part and Collins might be the reason why Lydia bursts out laughing at the name when it is first introduced. But, nonetheless Tinky Winky on the Bath chair highlights a certain problem as to love referenced in St Paul’s letter to the Corinthians: ‘I am nothing without love’, yet for lesbians, gays and cross-class couples, there was no possibility to love, because it was inappropriate. They were invalids, as they were not allowed to love. The controversy with Tinky Winky being gay highlighted the fact that our society is not yet freed from gay-fear and is more restrained in that respect than we’d like to admit. However, gays are certainly better off now than then. Furthermore, the Teletubbies live in an ideal world where everything just seems to happen: they get ‘Tubby Custard’ from a mysterious machine. Where actually the custard is made is the question. In the real world, babies also get fed custard, made by their mummy. Whether they know that, is the question. They are also ordered to go to sleep, which they do nicely. In a certain sense, Darcy’s and the rest’s existence is also a little mysterious. Maybe even more so than ours, as they did not know about evolution, and their existence as rich people was given by God (‘there is no accident in birth’). Essentially they also live in a world ‘where everything just happens’. However, Amanda just might have perceived it as a little too ideal a world, where we like to escape. Not a real world, where people lived and had their own worries. In that, the Teletubby-land that she had in her head, does not really exist and Darcy calls it ‘a pretty drear thing’. Naturally, as one is always observed by servants, one does not have a private life… Nor can he occupy himself with anything at all. It is not the land of Milk and Honey, apparently, but so is neither Amanda’s own land (Hammersmith) of which Bingley and Lydia thought the same.

On the other hand, the Teletubbies seem happy, despite the fact that they have to do certain things… But is that not the case because they do not ask themselves whether they want that ‘Tubby Custard’ or whether they want to sleep? Mrs Bennet was also ‘happy’ in her marriage, Mr Bennet was at ease in his library, Darcy was ‘what [he] [was]’ and Caroline did not at all seem to regret having to marry Darcy in spite of being a lesbian. It is only because they start asking themselves what they want and why they can’t get it (by admiring Amanda), that they start to be unhappy. So it was for Amanda, too, when she read Pride and Prejudice for the first time…

When Amanda and Darcy go into the Rosenbergs’ place, Elizabeth takes Tinky Winky from Darcy and they pass into the living room-kitchen, where all appliances are on: the stereo, the TV (without sound, Clementi on the background) with a music program on, the iron, the cooker, the hood above it, the laptop… (This ludicrous scene compels us to ask ourselves the question whether all those appliances are really needed… Whether it is not ‘skill that we have forfeited’ because of society. Certainly when we acknowledge that we are now obsessed with our foot-print) When Darcy is strangely interested in the iron, Amanda calls him by name to prevent him from burning himself and Elizabeth recognises the name. She shouts out: ‘You are my husband!’ Darcy is puzzled, but professes ‘not [to] recall marrying [her]’. She then proceeds looking it up on the laptop and accesses a page Collin Firth-Darcy, but the page above is titled ‘The Darcy-obsession’. Elizabeth and Darcy, in ‘a strange post-modern moment’ as it seems, stare together into the laptop, she strangely informing him about himself, and probably herself also taken in the meantime with the type of man Darcy is (‘The Darcy-obsession’), given that at the start she did not know of a man called Darcy. When she hears of her father, she orders a taxi by credit card and, when they are about to get into the taxi, Michael shows up. A modern duel breaks out between Darcy and Michael, the latter hitting him with his fist, clearly wanting to display his manhood, where Darcy equally gets angry at the sight of Michael ‘lay[ing] violent hands upon Miss Price’. After a separation by Amanda they all return to the door in the bathroom of her apartment. She orders Elizabeth to return to Regency England with Darcy, but the door does not ‘oblige’. When Amanda touches it, however, it does open, but slams shut at Elizabeth. So indeed, Amanda is more in need than Elizabeth to leave the modern world. Michael now threatens Amanda with leaving her if she goes through the door. This however, Amanda does not take and asks him to stop with the macho-behaviour. When he tells her again, she does go through the door, because Darcy ‘will be beaten up’ in modern day London.

When they pass through the door, Darcy professes an amazing urge to sleep and asks for a bed. Further on, Elizabeth and Amanda talk about Charlotte who has left for Africa after the proposal of Collins did not take place. She has also escaped to ‘downtown’ as it seems, or at least to a place where they would go ‘if life became irreparably miserable and lonely.’ That was at least what Charlotte and Elizabeth agreed when they were children…

During that night, Amanda slips into the room of Darcy and sees him holding a letter. He however does not want to loose possession of it and grabs it firmer in his hand when Amanda tries to take it. Instead, she kisses him. In the morning he asks to leave immediately as he had ‘a bad dream’. Elizabeth tells Amanda he is ‘insufferably rude’, but Amanda tells her it is her duty to try. That is not what Elizabeth meant, however, because ‘[she] [is] altered by what [she] ha[s] seen’. Amanda says that about Darcy as well, ‘but he does not remember’ in her view and puts it down to a bad dream. So Elizabeth and Darcy walk in the garden, while she explains the nature of St John’s wort (a means against depression) and tells him that ‘it is important to call the thing by its proper name, however fiendish’. Darcy professes to do his duty, although he does not know why it is his duty (in his own words) to love Elizabeth and invites her to Pemberley to explain the types of wort in his own meadows and to meet his sister.

Now, of course, Lady Catherine arrives to tell off someone… First she addresses Mrs Bennet who has done nothing to promote the matches between her daughters and Mr Collins’s brothers. This however Mrs Bennet does not buy and, while her husband is ‘dying’ in the couch, she says to Lady Catherine: ‘You are a prig, madam, a pander, a common bully. And you cheat at cards!’ She further threatens to scrape out the pigs trough with Lady Catherine. Mr Bennet, impressed at his wife, shouts out in utter amazement: ‘Tally ho, wife!’ and decides to sleep in the bedroom again. When Mr Collins tries to asks his wife Jane why her mother is speaking like that, she tells him off as well: ‘Oh, be quiet you silly man!’ Why would her sisters possibly marry his brothers if they have seen him? Lady Catherine now understands that there is only one person to blame for this rebellion: Amanda. And she speaks to her in the garden, wanting to make a bargain with her: Amanda will leave Regency society and what does she want for that? We all know what she wants: Jane and Collins’s marriage broken up so the first is free to marry Bingley. Lady Catherine then asks whether the marriage was consummated (an essential reason for annulment). Indeed, it was not consummated, because Mr Collins was going through ‘a period of abstinence’ (would this have anything to do with his trouser pocket and his red handkerchief?). And Lady Catherine professes to occupy herself with the annulment just for her own amusement… She further orders Darcy to leave.

Although we might now think that Jane will be over the moon, she again addresses the fact of society: ‘[she] will be despoiled’ and ‘will be the woman who couldn’t inspire her husband to consummate his marriage.’ That is sad in itself and Bingley will not want her. But here, Bingley professes to be ‘through with [society]’ and to want to take her to America. Whether that is really the continent America is doubtful in my opinion, as he there speaks a references to Elegy XIX of John Donne (our ‘new-found-land’ and ‘license my roving hands’ ‘and so forth’):

Elegy XIX

To his Mistress going to Bed

Come, Madam, come, all rest my powers defy,
Until I labour, I in labour lie.
The foe oft-times having the foe in sight,
Is tir'd with standing though he never fight.
Off with that girdle, like heaven's Zone glittering,
But a far fairer world encompassing.
Unpin that spangled breastplate which you wear,
That th'eyes of busy fools may be stopt there.
Unlace your self, for that harmonious chime,
Tells me from you, that now it is bed time.
Off with that happy busk, which I envie,
That still can be, and still can stand so nigh.
Your gown going off, such beautious state reveals,
As when from flow'ry meads th'hills shadow steals.
Off with that wiry Coronet and show
The hairy diadem which on you doth grow:
Now off with those shoes, and then softly tread
In this, love's hallow'd temple, this soft bed.
In such white robes, heaven's Angels us'd to be
Receiv'd by men: thou Angel bringst with thee?
A heaven like Mahomet's Paradice, and though
Ill spirits walk in white, we eas'ly know,
By this these Angels from an evil sprite,
Those set our hairs, but these our flesh upright.
License my roving hands, and let them go,
Behind, before, above, between, below.
O my America! my new-found-land,
My kingdom, safeliest when with one man man'd,
My mine of precious stones: my emperie,
How blest am I in this discovering thee!
To enter in these bonds, is to be free;
Then where my hand is set, my seal shall be.
Full nakedness! All joys are due to thee,
As souls unbodied, bodies uncloth'd must be,
To taste whole joyes. Gems which you women use
Are like Atlanta's balls, cast in mens views,
That when a fool's eye lighteth on a gem,
His earthly soul may covet theirs, not them:
Like pictures or like books gay coverings made
For lay-men, are all women thus array'd.
Themselves are mystick books, which only wee
(Whom their imputed grace will dignify)
Must see rever'd. Then since that I may know;
As liberally, as to a midwife show
Thyself: cast all, yea, this white linen hence,
There is no penance due to innocence.
To teach thee I am naked first; why than,
What needst thou have more covering then a man?

As much as this may be about America, it is certainly as much about the woman. Or as much as it is about the discovery of America, it is certainly as much about the discovery of Donne’s mistress in her naked state. For a poem of 1699, it is unbelievably erotic. In Bingley’s context, I don’t think the place where they are going is the continent America. Although, the idea would fit in the concept of a new society where people are freer and not judged by their acquaintance like in the home-country. Society changes people, and thus they will be much freer than when they stay in England. Free to ‘have 25 children’ and to ‘name them all Amanda, even the boys’. But it is doubtful that Andrews would have ended the story wrongly, as he is very respectful towards the original. His ‘other’ Elizabeth takes the place of Darcy’s wife and so the end of Pride and Prejudice stays upright. Essentially, letting Jane and Bingley go to America is a little far from the original end. As Jane goes from puzzling at America to laughing at the idea, we might just suppose she red the poem as well…

After this problem is solved, Amanda indeed withdraws from society: she will go back to modern Hammersmith. She opens the door, now free to go as she now knows what she wants, but a little letter falls from the latch: the metro-bus ticket Darcy had in his hand that night, with written on it at the back: ‘Not one heartbeat do I forget’. While Amanda drives in a carriage, Elizabeth asks her father what she has to do, stay or go back to Hammersmith. Her father admits to his childishness and tells her it is time he behaved as an adult in adult clothes and stopped clinging to his daughter. This seals obviously the deal: she will go back. There is only one place Amanda can be going now: she arrives at Pemberley where Darcy is looking over his grounds as a Darcy does.

Darcy: Miss Price.
Amanda: Yes. We should celebrate. You asked me a question, I answered it and we didn’t have an argument about it.
D: I did not ask you a question. I made an observation. ‘Miss Price’. The confirmation of your identity, was entirely superfluous. As a result we are now arguing about it. And therefore, you are wrong. (smiles)
A: That’s so sweet. You’re actually trying to make me laugh!
D: Yes. It shall not occur again. (smiles further)
A: And you’re smiling.
D: Nono. I only smile in private, when nobody is looking. (they kiss)

After his sleep, which we might define as a sleep of Sleeping Beauty (a transformation which requires so much energy as to offer no energy anymore for interaction, notably also kissed by his true love!), he acknowledges the unimportance of her non-virginity. When he took his plunge into the modern world, he saw a totally different society, where there is something as gay people, women with a career (Dr Rosenberg and her husband), where ‘negroes’ walk on busses, where women walk around less covered than in his idea, have short hair like men… Elizabeth was changed by that experience, but Darcy also as he has not forgotten or done it away as a bad dream. He does not forget a heartbeat and as such, was also changed by his plunge into the pool of modern society… Firth’s Darcy jumped in his pond to do away with his pride and to be able to respect his in-laws, Cowan’s Darcy jumps into the mobile toilet to do away also with that pride of his. Pride that did not allow him to acknowledge his love for Amanda, pride that did, after that, prevent him from marrying her because she was not a maid, pride that did not allow him to look further than the polished surface of human nature. He would have condemned himself to Caroline (a lesbian conniving bumface) because of that pride. He was also condemning Bingley and Wickham. By looking into his grounds, like Firth’s Darcy, he addresses his human nature, trying to find it back under the layer of society’s polish. Now, he can truly love Amanda. As Elizabeth’s understudy, she is swapped and takes her rightful place.

Amanda, after she leaves Pemberley the first time has succeeded in her struggle and knows what is the matter with her. She has indeed standards. Too bad if the rest of the world cannot have that. It is normal, it is what she wants.

Despite our rights, and our duties which rights imply, we as women have not changed. We still want love, as do men, because without love we are nothing as humans. We can now choose not to stay virgins, we can now choose to leave our husbands, but we can still not be happy without that love and we need it. Secretly we all dream of Darcy and why? Because he is caring, loving and lovely. It is not really ‘Collin Firth in clingy pants’ (the man will be happy to hear that), but it is the personality and mannerisms of Darcy we like. His struggle with himself to get the woman he loves.

To a certain extent Cowan’s Darcy was a little realer than Firth’s Darcy, which Andrews implied in Darcy’s anger at Pride and Prejudice. As Amanda says it in the beginning: ‘they changed his head with make-up’. Firth’s Darcy was the Darcy from the original which everyone fell in love with, the tormented man who swims in his pond. But the man was also rather a type, not a real man, unlike Wentworth who could be called a Darcy more advanced in wholeness of character. Cowan’s Darcy did not need bushy hair, a black horse and dark clothing to be a whole tormented man. Like Wentworth, Cowan’s Darcy has more nuances to himself, giving himself a character buried under restraint fixed by society. It must be what normal people have, and what the man Darcy was inspired on would have had, but it is something missing in Pride and Prejudice. Naturally, because the novel expresses Elizabeth’s views and therefore does not give a full portrait of Darcy as he does not show himself as a whole at first. Wentworth in that respect is much more nuanced and as such ‘realer’ as a character, which Austen’s age when she created him could have to do something with. So was Cowan’s Darcy who is portrayed unsympathetically by modern standards at the start (not looking at the people he speaks to, never smiling, being rather abrupt) and whose frustration and interest is apparent from the start by facial expression. Firth’s Darcy also had facial expressions (that is why we love him), but he was a little softer of character and a little more vulnerable in a typically early romantic way. By giving Cowan’s Darcy a bigger role (more conversations with Amanda), he comes across as arrogant in the beginning (‘I am always stark with liars.’). It is arrogance, though, that is indispensible in the society he lives, but which is repelling to us now. Firth’s Darcy was very early romantic in nature (struggle on an individual level), where Cowan’s Darcy was a little more modern in theme (struggle with the big society in oneself). As such, Cowan is further from Austen’s original, but probably closer to the truth, like he intimates about the impossibility of the things that happen in Pride and Prejudice.

Essentially Andrews carried the satire of Austen through much further than maybe Austen herself had imagined possible. Even with respect to the story of Pride and Prejudice, he carried it to the full. Not only Amanda has a problem with herself that lies under the layer of society, also Darcy, Caroline, Mr and Mrs Bennet are restrained. Only, they don’t know it yet. Until of course, Amanda turns up, for them naturally not restrained which is definitely not true for herself. In a certain way, we could see Elizabeth who gets into the modern world because of ‘[Amanda’s] need’, as the other side of Amanda, the more traditional female side, eventually ending up as nanny (a typical mother-role); the side we admire in those female characters (we all wonder how it would be having Elizabeth’s life). Wickham seems to serve as the same kind of influence as Amanda. He is also one who is not viewed in an ideal light, but certainly has a heart. Although this is not true to the original, it is not impossible that all that happened how Andrews thought of it. Who says that Lydia did not offer herself to Wickham, or even Georgiana? It is because we presume that to be untrue that it is untrue, yet we don’t know. In that, Amanda and Wickham join forces to bring some life into society. It is a fact that Amanda, as she comes from another society, is still less restrained than Wickham. On the other hand Wickham knows much better ‘how things operate’ in the society Amanda has landed into, and so they are an ideal pair. The buttresses have gone from the mansion in the end. And Darcy? He has found nature: as he was before looking at his grounds from the front of his mansion, he is now looking at them from his terrace. He is slowly getting closer, although there is more work to be done apparently at his emotional restraint (‘You are smiling.’ ‘Nono, I only smile in private, when nobody is looking.’)

In carrying Austen’s satire through, Andrews also addressed modern society. Not only Regency society was restrained but today’s society is that too, despite the fact that we don’t notice it and consider ourselves lucky when we watch costume dramas. After all, Darcy professes, ‘this is a free society’. Indeed, he nor Amanda realise that they are subjected to certain influences; they find how they perceive their role in that society as normal. When Amanda reproaches Darcy to be of no use, to ‘have no purpose’, he counters that by saying that ‘[they] must be seen to be unoccupied’. In other words, they must be seen to be able to afford the state of not being occupied. That is why he considers ‘any type of sudden locomotion an example ill-breeding’ and that also includes dancing, shooting, walking, playing cards etc. etc. This could be called the handicap principle, which displays certain behaviour in order to display that one can afford to do that. Notably the peacock’s tail (the very bird that Mr Collins accidentally shot) is such an example: he displays his feathers, rendering himself vulnerable to predators, yet that very principle makes him respectful in the eyes of the peahens. In the meantime this theory in connection with peacocks has been argued against, but it still seems to be significant in Lost in Austen. The class of Darcy ‘must be seen to be unoccupied’ because then can be concluded that they can afford to do that. As a result, Mr Darcy’s life ‘is a pretty drear thing’. Of course, imagine having to do nothing all day, any sudden locomotion is out of the question and there you are, waiting for the day to end… On the other hand, we in our society, cannot be seen to be unoccupied. We must work. If we don’t, we are strange or we cheat the system. So, although we might smile at the idea that Darcy finds that he is living in a free society, we might also smile at our ‘free’ society, because that is not as free as it should be if it were ‘free’. There are certain musts, like in Darcy’s society. Even really rich people, like Darcy, must show their face in this day and age, because otherwise they ‘have no purpose’. Amanda’s reproach was embedded in our perception of use and obsoleteness. In his society, though, Darcy cannot occupy himself because of society, Amanda cannot unoccupy herself because of society… So both are as restrained as each other, although without realising it themselves… Also Michael with his Bughatti is subject to the handicap principle as it displays himself as being able to afford an expensive car, so he is ‘fit to be a mate’. The same as the peacock who shows his feathers: he has survived possible attacks and is more fit to be a mate.

The scene with the appliances is also very judging towards our society… Piranha later professes to be black and not to be able to live ‘without chocolate, electricity or bog paper’ (toilet role). Not the black bit is worrying, but the chocolate, electricity and bog paper are that certainly. Elizabeth who puts on all the appliances in the Rosenbergs’ house and does not seem to need them. She is just wondering at everything. Yet, she puts all appliances on, even the TV she does not care to hear, but likes to see the images… Yet, her employers ‘are anxious about their footprint’. Surely, the footprint of the Bennets was a lot less? But we cannot do without the cooker, TV, stereo, iron, hood, computer, mobile phone etc. etc. anymore although they do not seem to have a clear purpose in themselves… They represent skills that we have forfeited: the stereo and TV entertain us so we do not have to entertain ourselves (with playing music, playing cards, charades, reading etc. ourselves), the iron represents our desire to have something that is permanently hot and to have steam that makes it even easier to iron, the hood above the cooker so our house does not smell of food, the cooker we can regulate the temperature of so we can’t let things burn, light so we have strong light whatever point in the day, a laptop and mobile phone so we are permanently connected with the rest of the world. Like Piranha cannot do without ‘chocolate, electricity or bog paper’ anymore, ‘not even for 10 minutes’, Elizabeth needs to have the appliances on despite her not using them…

Lost in Austen is not only a brilliantly fun series, it is also well-founded and well-referenced with song, philosophy and even psychology. In that, it will hopefully go into television history as another triumph. And maybe, Firth and Cowan could share each other’s fame...

Lost in Austen, an analysis (3/4)

2009-06-07T16:14:00.000+02:00

Episode 3 starts with a problem for Amanda: as Mrs Bennet has now had enough of Miss Price she has asked her to leave. But where must Amanda go? Back home! She tries to break the door open this time with a pickaxe, but even then the door does not want to budge. And Amanda, back in her modern day outfit roams through town and whom can she meet but Wickham who ‘see[s] the world the same way’ (episode 2): no care for society and the ways of it, without buttresses, a man on his own two feet. He decides to educate Amanda a little and goes to buy her a dress so she can make up with Jane, who is naturally unhappy about her marriage and the problem with Bingley. Wickham hands her the ‘acquaintance’ of Marie de Cerisay.

Making up with Jane, though, will bring Amanda in the neighbourhood of Rosings Park, the mansion of Darcy’s aunt, where she will naturally encounter Darcy again. Amanda does make up with Jane, and is duly invited to dine at Rosings as she has a message to deliver from Marie de Cerisay in Paris to Lady Catherine. The acquaintance proves more important than her fortune in trade… Then follows a very interesting conversation where Darcy does not seem to know who the de Cersisays are and Lady Catherine does seem to know and informs Darcy in public about the duck pond and the crocodiles (although it is puzzling how the ducks would be able to survive next to the crocodiles)… It seems as if the family they are speaking of is totally non-existent (hence the challenge of Mr Darcy where actually the ‘château’ of the Cesrisays is, in an attempt to disclose Amanda), but as Lady Catherine is desperate not to disappoint the rest of her public, she makes out to know them and makes up a story about a duck pond instead of looking ridiculous herself like Darcy at this point. Darcy is out to ridicule Amanda, but she has now obviously, with the help of Wickham, acquired the right manner of introducing herself and the right façade, as indicated by the fan in front of her face. It is then that the buttress comes into play. We see Caroline Bingley playing at the piano, but she is playing a very appropriate song of Mozart:

Lied der Freiheit (1785)

Wer unter eines Mädchens Hand
Sich als ein Sklave schmiegt,
Und, von der Liebe festgebannt,
In schnöden Fesseln liegt:
Weh dem! Der ist ein armer Wicht,
Er kennt die gold’ne Freiheit nicht.

Wer sich um Fürstengunst und Rang
Mit saurem Schweiß bemüht,
Und, eingespannt, sein Leben lang,
Am Pflug des Staates zieht:
Weh dem! Der ist ein armer Wicht,
er kennt die gold’ne Freiheit nicht.

Wer um ein schimmerndes Metall
Dem bösen Mannon dient,
Und seiner vollen Säcke Zahl
Nur zu vermehren sinnt:
Weh dem! Der ist ein armer Wicht,
Er kennt die gold’ne Freiheit nicht.

Doch wer dies alles leicht entbehrt,
Wonach der Thor nur strebt,
Und froh bei seinem eignen Herd
Nur sich, nicht Andern lebt:
Der ist’s allein der sagen kann,
Wohl mir! Ich bin ein freier Mann.

Song of Freedom (1785)

He, who under a girl's hand
nestles himelf as a slave
And who, fixed by love,
lies in disdainful chains:
Alas! He is a poor wretch,
He does not know golden Freedom.

He, who for king's favour and rank
Labours in sour sweat,
and his whole life long, fixedly,
pulls state's plough:
Alas! He is a poor wretch,
He does not know golden Freedom.

He who for glittering metal
serves the wicked Mammon
and only seeks
to increase the amount in his full bags:
Alas! He is a poor wretch,
He does not know golden Freedom.

But he who can easily do without all his,
for which only Thor strives,
and can sit happily by his own hearth,
living only for himself and not for others:
He it is alone who can say
Good on me! I am a free man.

It is interesting that we hear Caroline end the first verse (Weh dem! Der ist ein armer Wicht. Er kennt die gold’ne Freiheit nicht.) as it turns out, after which we hear her start the second verse about ‘king’s favour and rank’. The third verse about money oddly she skips, or maybe not so oddly, as money is not really there for Darcy to be increased as he has already enough. Society is mainly about marrying people of the same fortune and so of the same status. When Caroline starts the last verse, Darcy starts to speak about people out of society who repel him. When Caroline starts on the two last verses: Der ist’s allein der sagen kann, Wohl mir! Ich bin ein freier Mann, Amanda starts about the buttresses. Mr Collins had intimated that ‘Lady Catherine’s buttresses are the talk of the county‘ and Amanda now asks Darcy, stating that she is not experienced in architecture, but that… It is then that Darcy looses his temper and tells her in a fit of rage that ’[he] know[s] what buttresses are’. It is puzzling what is so bad about buttresses. But we can easily see what Andrews meant, combining the song with the buttresses. Indeed, the people in society are like a house with buttresses: they cannot stand on their own, they cannot have an occupation because ‘[they] must be seen to be unoccupied’, they need to be supported by the others in society to be in society. In other words, probably also figuratively, Lady Catherine’s buttresses might be the talk of the county as she is a reference in society, and her acquaintance is to be sought by everyone… Is it this what Darcy gets when he looses his temper? and is it that which fascinates him in Amanda? Her lack of understanding of society which renders her free to do and say what she wants (kicking Collins in the balls for saying that her society is revolting) without herself being aware of it in the least. With on the background the last two verses, we can certainly see that. He suddenly realises that he indeed is not a free man, despite the fact he professes it to be ‘free society’ in which Jane was not forced to marry Collins. He realises that he is too much ruled by this society and that that compelled him to make his friend unhappy and that society no doubt approved of a marriage to Collins, despite the unpleasantness of Mr Collins himself.

It is also at this time that Mr Bennet decides to sleep in his library out of protest against Jane’s marriage. When Mrs Bennet says she will take Lydia ‘to observe a happy marriage’ at Rosings, he yells that ‘[he] will prance Lady Catherine’s drawing room naked’ if she can find one happy marriage there. And that is indeed what the case is: people who care too much about peripheral things will not be able to choose their partners rightly and according to their own tastes. Darcy is doomed to be unhappy, until he finally gives in to himself and leaves society for what it is. But there might be more in Mr Bennet’s rebellion: the first verse of Caroline’s song is about men who have themselves ruled by love, lowering themselves as slaves. In the second episode, Mr Bennet intimates to Amanda that he was married because of beauty. She asks him not to let Jane marry Collins, but he says that ‘as far as [he] can allow anything th[at] household’ he will do his best to prevent a marriage between Jane and Collins and have his daughters marry for love. In other words, the poor man is indeed ruled by his wife, and cannot even oppose a marriage he disapproves of. And it is probably the anger at himself that he projects on his wife, escaping into his library.

And then: the third dialogue between Darcy and Amanda. A dialogue of desperation from his side, as it will turn out. He comes to Mr Collins’s house to have a talk with Amanda (like the original man and Firth’s Darcys came for their first proposal):

Darcy: I am… concerned
Amanda: I don’t understand.
Darcy: You came to this house, knowing that you’d be brought to Lady Catherine’s, knowing I would be there, knowing full well the abysmal disregard in which I hold you. Why, if I am, as you insist, so relentlessly unpleasant to you, do you persist in seeking me out?
Amada: I didn’t… seek you out! You came to me.
Darcy: Why?
Amanda: I don’t know.
Darcy: You must know. I do not, and my lack of comprehension is dementing me. (turns away in total disgust/desperation)
Amanda: Mrs Collins needs me, good night.
Darcy: (takes her by the shoulders as if to kiss her)
Amanda: You’re quite sure this is what you mean to do?
Darcy: (looks totally puzzled for a few seconds and then runs out of the house)

It is here for the first time that he nearly gives in to his feelings. As Collin Firth’s Darcy, he has come to the house in total emotional chaos, and does not know half what he is going to do or is doing. Firth’s Darcy and the original Mr Darcy indeed came with a plan, but they were still not through with their contempt for Elizabeth’s connections who were ‘so decidedly below [their] own’. Cowan’s Darcy does not at all come with the plan of asking for Amanda’s hand in marriage but comes, ironically, to ask her why he is in love with her, why he could possibly love a savage like her, unpolished by society. It is that what puzzles him, and it is that what is ‘dementing’ him: his own self that he has no longer under control. It is the real him that Amanda could not get at, and that he did not believe he had, his own human nature that is the same as Amanda’s. However, she, like him, still protests her human nature that is secretly in love with Darcy (as all women are), but that does not want to be.

Amanda has now totally left the door alone, as she cannot get to it in the Bennets’ house. And she is about to accept her role In the story, and her own human nature, as will Darcy. But first, she will make out not to be as unpolished as he thought… During the card game, Bingley, who is in emotional turmoil because of Darcy essentially, bets his watch with a nave. Amanda, hesitating whether she should actually claim the watch, cannot take a decision as ruthless Lady Catherine rips the king out of her hand and claims the watch for her. There, Amanda takes a split-second decision and impresses Darcy with her ‘practice-game’, which essentially restores the watch to Bingley. In addition, Collins humours Lady Catherine and lets her win despite having a card that seems high enough to beat hers… And Lady Catherine cheats, looking into other people’s cards, as Mrs Bennet reproaches her afterwards in episode 4. But as she is high up in society, she does that without having reproaches come her way, because that would be offending her…
Lady Catherine then warns Amanda for wanting Darcy. She answers she does not want him, but ‘what [she] want[s] frightens [her] to death. That is why [she] fail[s] to comprehend [her]self.’ And that is indeed what is going on in both Darcy and Amanda’s heads: they are scared of what they want and do not have the strength to step out of their normality. That is why they both deny what they want to themselves, why they do not comprehend their on wishes and are continuously wondering at their own feelings.

It is also then that for the first time Bingley reproaches Darcy for thrashing his happiness and Jane’s. After this reproach from his own friend, Darcy admits being wrong about obstructing Jane and Bingley’s relationship and invites Amanda to Pemberley together with Mrs Bennet and Lydia. They go, and as in Austen’s original and the 1995 adaptation, Amanda gazes at Pemberley in wonder. Unlike Lady Catherine’s mansion, which has a gothic inside, and obviously a gothic outside too as it has buttresses, Darcy’s Pemberley stands on its own in a beautiful valley. As in both the 1995 adaptation and the original, this could also be a foreshadowing of what Darcy is now: a man who stands on his own, a man who knows what he wants.

It is at Pemberley that he will finally yield to his own feelings and where Amanda will also understand why ‘[her] need open[ed] the door’ as she meets him looking over a large lake:

Darcy: (takes Amanda by the shoulders) Amanda! That means ‘she who must be loved’.
Amanda: You must not… You must not.
D: Wherefore must I not? Who is to judge us? I laboured so long in the service of propriety!
A: Elizabeth! I am not Elizabeth! The entire world will hate me.
D: Were that true, Amanda, I’d fight the world. You are the one I love!
A: Will you do something for me?
D: (goes into the pond, similar to the 1995 adaptation)
A: I am having a bit of a strange post-modern moment here.
D: Is that agreeable?
A: Oh, yes! Yes!
D: (starts to get out of the pond)
A: Oh, please, please, stay there! If you touch me again, I will be completely unable to say what I want to say. You love me. Which one of me do you love? The one you first met when I was spiky, and vulgar and I argued with you all the time? But you looked at me and felt all that abysmal disregard? Or the one I’ve been recently? Simpering and fanning, and, trying so hard to fit in? Please, tell me you’ve noticed the difference!
D: I’ve found both incarnations of your character equally disagreeable and yet, I love you, Amanda Price. With all my heart.
(they hear a noise in the background)
A: Ignore that. Please.
D: I cannot. (gets out of the pond) When my duties are discharged, I shall find you, Amanda, for there is more to say. If only the same words over and again. (walks off)

A: (alone) I love him! I love Fitzwilliam Darcy! I love him! Maybe that’s what’s meant to happen. (looks over the lake) I am like an understudy: the star has failed to turn up, and I have to go on and do the show!

Darcy has now totally yielded to his feelings, although he still finds the ‘incarnations of [her] character disagreeable’ and yet, he does not seem to mind anymore because he has long enough ‘laboured in the service of propriety’. As it seems, this force, which is ironically symbolised in the ‘post-modern’ pond-scene, is not only taking place in the minds of Amanda and Darcy, but also in Mrs Bennet who is crying in the garden at both her and Jane’s marriage. Although she still professes that we have to endure our lives, she is already aware of the fact that neither her own marriage is a good one, nor Jane’s, although they were made ‘in service of propriety’. At the same time, Bingley is totally through with Darcy and is so angry with him, he hits him regretting it afterwards. As Mrs Bennet was angry with Amanda before, like Darcy was, we might presume that Bingley’s anger with Darcy stems from the same problem: his own failure to stand on his own two feet and to decide for himself. That is at least what he intimated in episode 2: ‘It is not that I am especially weak, but that my friend is strong. He construes truly where others faulter. I am a faulterer, I rely on his construction.’ Had Bingley not trusted Darcy so much, and looked for himself, he had married Jane. Therefore he now blames the wrong man, in an attempt not to have to blame himself.

But, clouds gather in the sky as ‘smirking, conniving bumface’ Caroline attempts to break Darcy’s engagement by advising him to get to know Amanda a little better. When it comes to maidenhood, of course, Amanda cannot beat Caroline. And so, indeed, Amanda has a talk with Darcy:

Darcy: (stands visibly emotional looking at his grounds, still the blood at his nose visible because of Bingley’s blow)
Amanda: What happened?
D: Mr Bingley and I have been chatting. Miss Price, my life… is a pretty drear thing. But, it is conducted for the greater part in public. It is a rare moment that I am not closely observed by servants. If one is to know the truth about Fitzwilliam Darcy, one need merely ask.
A: You worry that I have a past, that you don’t know about?
D: I embrace(d?) the truth. Pray, tell it me.
A: Ok, what I should do, my mother would certainly say I should do, if she were here, and thank God she isn’t, is keep my mouth shut. But, given that I’ve never been able to do that, and given that Caroline has almost certainly put it about that I am the great whore of Hammersmith… But you’d never listen to gossip, would you? I love you for that. And that’s the thing, I love you. I didn’t know that… I didn’t know that. It is clear to me now that I’ve always loved you. Every time I’ve fallen for a man, I’ve closed my eyes and it’s been you! Even Michael, and I’ve pretty much lived with him for a year! So yes… I have a past, but every instant in it contains you! Everything I am belongs to you.
D: (distraught) I cannot marry you. I am sorry for it. But a man like me cannot marry a woman like you.
A: A woman like me?
D: You are not a maid.
A: (cries)
D: I am sorry. (gives her a handkerchief still with his blood on it)
A: I’ve been incredibly stupid.
D: You told me the truth and I asked for it. For that courage, I shall admire you always.
A: But it has cost me everything!
D: It has cost that of us both.

Here, Caroline not only accomplishes her purpose (breaking up Darcy’s engagement), but Andrews also puts in the very essence of Amanda’s need: ‘Every time I’ve fallen for a man, I’ve closed my eyes and it’s been you! … I have a past, but every instant in it contains you! Everything I am belongs to you.’ Indeed, she has always been wanting Darcy, not another, like all women actually might not be in want of exactly Darcy, but with all the things Darcy is: a gentleman. Sadly, this section also highlights the fact that society has only been that much be thrown away. Ok, Darcy does not mind her unpolishedness, but not a maid, that is not… not possible. That idea has been rooted so deeply in him, that he cannot marry her. Despite the fact that we might presume that Amanda is more disappointed and sad than Darcy, he intimates that it costs him everything, like to Amanda. And indeed, it does cost him a great deal. Like Firth’s Darcy, Cowan’s Darcy gives up a great love for his principles, but is that the case? Firth’s Darcy took a plunge to clean himself of his prejudices; Cowan’s Darcy has already taken a plunge, surely, or has he? As Firth’s Darcy, Cowan’s Darcy has partly yielded to his feelings: he loves Amanda/Elizabeth and so be it, he will marry her, despite her unpolishedness/low connections, but there is still their pride to be conquered for both Darcys (for Firth’s Darcy relative to Elizabeth’s connections and for Cowan’s Darcy relative to Amanda’s maidenhood). So, although Cowan’s Darcy took a plunge, it was not really a plunge, and this first proposal stands on the same level as the first proposal in Collins house in both Pride and Prejudice the book and the 1995 adaptation. Darcy partly yields but not totally. There is still work to be done.

Amanda now looses it totally and tears her copy of Pride and Prejudice up, throws the pages in the air and prepares to leave. At this point Caroline intimates that she is also a lesbian and that everyone expects her to marry Darcy (including God) and that she will do that, but that the physical society of men does not excite her. She has heard of Amanda’s ‘secret’…This is not the only surprising twist from Andrews doing. Georgiana was also not seduced by Wickham! On the contrary, Georgiana’s nurse fell in love with him and arranged to meet him regularly. An action for which Georgiana served as cover. Every time her nurse had her back turned, she offered herself to Wickham, but he didn’t want to have any of it. To take revenge on him, Georgiana told her brother, Darcy, that Wickham had ‘ravished’ her (in other words, had sex with her). Obviously, Darcy cannot see that in his warped vision of society, which classes women as certainly not equal and would straight away blame the man for doing something like ravishing. That a woman would offer herself to a man is totally unthinkable. It is equally unthinkable that there were women who were lesbians, yet there must have been… But more on that later… At the same time, though, Georgiana is not cast off if Wickham keeps his mouth shut and that is what happens… As such, he suffers his honour and status to be reduced because he protects Georgiana…

When Darcy finds the copy of Pride and Prejudice in his fountain, he is disgusted to find himself in it and all kinds of ‘improbable’ things that happen in it. He now confuses Amanda with Austen, who she is definitely not, but what is definitely so is that he is too much busy with propriety instead of himself and what he wants. He wanted to marry Amanda, yet he decides not to, because she is not a maid. He decides to discourage Bingley’s affection for Jane because she has no money. It is confusing for him to have to do away with everything he has learned that is proper and so he goes forward in spurts and then goes back in his steps… He is clearly not yet rid of his prejudices, so he has not yet swum in his pond, unlike we are all inclined to think… Amanda says it in a very powerful way: ‘You’re so incandescent with integrity that you misjudge everyone. You misjudge me.’ Incandescent can also refer to being unbelievably angry, incandescent meaning shining with light. Indeed, Darcy desperately wants to shine with integrity, even to the point of being angry with himself, but does not understand that integrity can sometimes mean not to stay true to others, but rather trust oneself. And that is also what Amanda needs to do.

At least Amanda’s struggle is now over and she understands what the matter was with her: she has loved Darcy from the start and needs to find a man like that. That will be the only solution for her problem: to follow her standards. And this is where episode 3 concludes: Wickham redeemed, Caroline a lesbian, Bingley drunk, Georgiana a head-strong girl, Amanda and Darcy engaged and single again, Jane and Collins still married…

Lost in Austen, an analysis (2/4)

2009-06-06T19:02:00.000+02:00

Episode 2 starts with Amanda arriving at Netherfield in the rain, having run after Jane to try to get her back as she is at risk of dying from croup. Mr Darcy, like in the original story and the adaptation of 1995, can be called intrigued by this soaking wet woman. While at Netherfield, Amanda is compelled to eat oysters and larks while sitting opposite Darcy, but there is more than that: she is challenged to play. Amanda, who cannot play the piano, a truly modern woman, in the end sings Petula Clark’s Downtown:

When you're alone and life is making you lonely
You can always go downtown
When you got worries, all the noise and the hurry
Seems to help, I know, downtown

Just listen to the music of the traffic in the city
[Lalalalalalala.. and] the neon signs are pretty
How can you lose?
The lights are much brighter there
You can forget all your troubles, forget all your cares

And go downtown
(Things'll be great when you're downtown
No finer place for sure, downtown)
Everything's waiting for you

That is indeed where Bingley and Lydia will go (just what he professed to do after Amanda had sung the song), or at least will attempt to go: Downtown to Hammersmith. That song also highlights the ability to escape to another environment when one feels alone. It is what Amanda tries to do in Pride and Prejudice. And it is, too, what Charlotte will do ‘when life bec[omes] irreparably’ boring and lonely for her; it is what she and Elizabeth agreed to do when they were children: to escape to Africa.

When Amanda is finally returned from Netherfield, after having saved Jane from an attack of croup with paracetamol and having told Bingley that she is a lesbian (out of need to make him fall in love with Jane instead), she returns to the door in the Bennets’ attic to tell Elizabeth about Collins who has just arrived, but as before, the door nor Elizabeth budge. Things now go totally wrong, as he proposes to Jane. Just in time, Amanda turns up with Charlotte Lucas, but Collins presumes it is Amanda who’d like to get married to him. In favour of her, he abandons Jane, but Amanda has not a mind to get married, although she is now engaged to him… In the meantime Bingley is ‘bewitched’ by Jane and Darcy starts his role as buttress, we will later see what significance the word has...

It is altogether strange when Wickham comes on the scene: when Mrs Bennet, cured Jane, Kitty, Mary and Amanda return from Netherfield: the wheel of their carriage breaks and Wickham arrives as the hero to lend them his carriage. As it will turn out, he will gain a greater role that is less villainous than in Austen’s original. He gives a first indication towards the theme for Amanda when he says to her: ‘You fascinate me. I confess it, you have endured great hardships in your life, as have I.’ This Amanda, nor other readers of Pride and Prejudice, believe, but it will turn out to be true when the real circumstances of Georgiana’s so-called elopement are revealed. Darcy still does not want to know him, but so he does not want to know Amanda and there is a strangely common theme in that…

In an attempt to have Jane and Bingley still bond, now she has unwillingly high-jacked Collins, Amanda sends the two off into the garden to look for voles and tells them to sing ‘when they find anything’. The fact that they are going to look for voles is not surprising as it is an animal which is monogamous, knows ‘dating sites’ in nature, and as it is a species where males help to care for the little ones. It is at this point, that Darcy for the first time really speaks to Amanda, unlike the time they danced at the ball in Meryton, because he wanted to save the honour of his friend Bingley: ‘What advise you to sing, Miss Price? Because I have found something of interest.’ Amanda is stupid enough to ask what that is, and he answers: ‘You. You are not what you seem.’ And the two continue:

Amanda: I can’t disagree with that. Look, I know you have a very poor opinion of me. That’s the way you are at the moment, and that’s ok. But one day, Mr Darcy, you will thank me.
Darcy: In the meantime, Miss Price, you must content yourself with a warning. If you wound Bingley, you will find my displeasure painful and entirely unrelenting, for my…
Amanda: …opinion once lost, is lost forever. Yes, I know.
Darcy: (looks surprised at the expression)

What the two say here, especially Darcy, is striking. It is a first glimpse at his struggle. Wickham will turn out to be totally innocent and Darcy will end up fighting for his buttresses and he himself as a buttress, not knowing what he should think of himself (as in the original and the 1995 adaptation). It is ironic that he here warns Amanda not to wound Bingley as he is doing it himself (in the original and in the adaptation of 1995) by not taking seriously Bingley’s feelings and preferring society above human wishes. But he himself now starts to see something in Amanda that is not what is on the surface. Indeed, she at that point is not polished as normal people in his acquaintance and in a certain way she could stand for ‘the noble savage’ erroneously identified with Rousseau (who is also referenced in episode 1 implicitly when Mr Bennet has lent Bingley a book on Rousseau, but also more explicitly in episode 4 by Bingley himself when making a spear). The theory of the noble savage professed that all people were good at heart and that society made them bad. Rousseau did not believe this so radically, but he did profess that foremost a good society was needed to make good men. Essentially, Darcy sees something good in Amanda that he is not supposed to see and cannot believe that he can see, as he himself relies on society to tell him what is good. Amanda is clearly not of that society and is clearly an example therefore, of ill-breeding. Why does she fascinate him?

When the ball at Netherfield comes along, Wickham spreads rumours about the origins of Miss Price’s income of a staggering £27000 a year (compare Darcy’s income of £10000 a year! The 27000 was of course the wages of Amanda in modern day Hammersmith, which is a normal wage in modern day London ): her father is a fish monger. A fortune in trade was not the best you could get, and naturally, Collins does not want to marry Amanda anymore as he cannot have an income from trade if he is to become a bishop… He does not only withdraw his offer of marriage on that basis, but also advises her that wanting the society of Mr Darcy would now be a total impertinence. She, who does not care as a modern woman, can just not contain herself and kicks him in the balls. Although Darcy shows her the door politely, he is intrigued by this unpolished kind of person. And probably even more intrigued at his interest in that unpolished person…

The second episode then concludes with Jane marrying Collins, as he is now free from Amanda, and Charlotte’s decision t go to Africa. Although there is also another dialogue of Amanda and Darcy:

Amanda: You are better than this. I know you are, Fitzwilliam Darcy, because I’ve had you in my head since I was 12 years old. So, why are you behaving like such a total… git? Jane has no money, so what? Bingley’s got stacks. What right do you have to thrash their love because of an accident of birth?
Darcy: There is no accident in birth.
A: Do you know why I am so angry?
D: You were born thus.
A: I’ve been in love with your life for 14 years. Cut my heart out, Darcy, its-‘s your name written on it with Elizabeth’s. God almighty! Here, you are… one half… the greatest love story ever told. You. And you know what? You don’t deserve her.
D: Is this interview concluded? It is so difficult to tell.
A: You are such a disappointment, I can hardly bear to look at you.
D: A deprivation I shall endure as stoically as I can.
A: You’re so relentlessly unpleasant! I just can’t get at the real you!
D: (until now he has been staring out of the window, now he turns to Amanda:)
Madam! Behold, Fitzwilliam Darcy! I am what I am! If you find yourself unable to get at an alternative version I must turn to being glad. I despise the intrusions of a woman so singularly dedicated to mendacity, disorder and lewdness. They repel me. You repel me. You are an abomination, Madam! Good afternoon to you. (Leaves the room).

From intrigue and fascination, in one go Darcy has gone to total disgust. As in 1995, he addresses nature for help through the window, his own human nature that is strangely attracted to Amanda/Elizabeth, but a nature which his society so much has polished that he cannot find it, like Amanda. As such, he is troubled when he finds himself strangely liking this ‘savage’. Their two views on societal structures also differ: Darcy, having been born before the times of Darwin believes that society’s structure us given by God, so ‘there is no accident in birth’ and as he says in his very first scene: ‘God loves a gentleman, it is the gentleman’s duty to return the compliment.’ God loves a gentleman, because He has given him great wealth and power (to certain extent) unlike to the poor, so he must do his duty and do what God expects from him (i.e. go to church, marry the one God would approve (as Caroline Bingley puts it the end). Amanda, on the other hand, is born in a time where birth and status is not God-given and so indeed calls his status an ‘accident of birth’, which it is to her. Hardship and poverty are no longer at courtesy of God, but are one’s own responsibility. And so, he can change his views/behaviour, in opposition her who ‘was born thus’. He believes her to be born thus, so he himself is also born thus. There are not two Darcys within the one, or are there?

Lost in Austen, an analysis (1/4)

2009-06-05T13:32:00.000+02:00

Hey, long time no see!

A lot has been said about the series Lost in Austen: about the casting, costumes, story (Life on Mars) and all that is appropriate about a series. But I have not seen a lot so far about the series on a more analytical level. I will attempt to do that.

Brilliant as the series was in terms of scenery and everything else, brilliant it was too in terms of structure and approach. Not only the idea was great: having a girl of now get stuck in the world of then (although not totally new); but also the total concept was worked out very well by the author of the series: Guy Andrews. As adapting proves already difficult, because one cannot get carried away with his characters, asking oneself how characters would respond in case something strange happens, is a real challenge. Guy Andrews managed that very well. I am not here to sing the love of Andrews, but I will throw a glance at what the man wanted to say with his series. A lot, as it seems…

The first episode starts thus:

‘It is a truth, generally acknowledged, that we are all longing to escape.’ The main character, Amanda Price, goes on about the fact that she likes to escape to Pride and Prejudice, her favourite book; that she knows the words by heart; that that book is like a window opening into that world; that she can almost touch that world and almost see Darcy… Here she gets a little too much carried away for her own liking and goes back to the book with ‘where was I?’ It is only then that the opening credits start.

This introduction, as it will turn out, will mean a lot, and sets the tone for a one facet of the series: the insecurity of women in this day and age, where they are modern women (self-confident, speaking their mind), but at the same time all dream about Darcy (as Elizabeth in the last episode will also show on the Google search page ‘The Darcy-obsession’). And why is this? That is what Amanda will come to understand as she goes on through the door which ‘her need only opens’ (in the words of Elizabeth Bennet) and gets on through the story of Pride and Prejudice.

If we read the start of Pride and Prejudice, which the start of Lost in Austen was clearly by and based on, we can easily see what Andrews meant. ‘It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife. However little known the feelings or views of such a man may be on his first entering a neighbourhood, this truth is so well fixed in the minds of the surrounding families, that he is considered as the rightful property of some one or other of their daughters.’ (Pride and Prejudice, chapter 1) We can easily see what Amanda feels: she looks at her own life and feels that she is supposed to do certain things (work, earn money, go out with her boyfriend and all kinds of things), and why? Because ‘it is so well fixed in the minds of the’ people that surround her. She ‘must be I want’ of all this. Yet, no-one ask her if her life is the she wants.

Episode one starts with a portrait of Amanda’s life, a life we all know: having a job, a boyfriend, stress. ‘[She] patch[es] [her]self up with Austen.’ She is not the only one who likes to sometimes ‘stay in with Elizabeth Bennet’ and yet, she asks herself the question if she is a loser… Is it so strange that she likes stories of 200 years old? is it strange that that story still speaks to her, despite its age? It is obviously a question a lot of women ask themselves… We women have everything to be at ease: we are no longer ‘the wife of Mr X’, we can earn our own money, we can divorce if we are tired of our husbands, we can have sex with whomever we want, as often as we like (even with different men every week) and what-not. We have everything to be happy, if we look back at the days of Elizabeth Bennet. In fact we are expected to be happy with this kind of life, because ‘we have already come so far’ as feminists would say… So, this girl feels as the men in Pride and Prejudice: such an awful lot is expected of her, she does not know whether that is what she wants, and yet everyone tells her she has no problems, so no reason to be unhappy or uneasy. Why does Amanda then need to ‘patch [her]self up with Austen’? What is it with Darcy and Elizabeth that hypnotises her and us? Is it ‘Collin Firth in clingy pants’ alone, or is it more than that?

Just at the moment she reads Elizabeth’s sentence: ‘Had you behaved in a more gentleman-like manner…’ (refusing Darcy’s first proposal), the bell rings and Amanda’s boyfriend comes in, totally drunk, and proposes to her with a bottle-opener… Indeed, ‘You are mistaken if you suppose that the mode of your declaration affected me in any other way, than as it spared me the concern which I might have felt in refusing you, had you behaved in a more gentleman-like manner.’ (Pride and Prejudice, chapter 34) Of course, Michael is not as proud as Darcy in this case, but Amanda cannot possibly find it In her heart to marry him. She does not find him prince charming. She is not sure, and the ‘mode of his declaration’ was not at all convincing… It is the morning after that (or even the same night?) that she finds Elizabeth Bennet in her bathroom. Amanda next starts to reminisce about whether she was hallucinating, whether there is too much Austen in her life, or as her mother would profess: not enough boyfriend…

When she goes to her mother, a mother who is notably divorced and going through a midlife crisis decorating her house instead of having sex because ‘one can stop and have a cup of tea’, the two talk about the proposal. The mother is in favour of it: he does no drugs, does not beat her up, and she urges Amanda not to waste her life pretending what she is not. What can Amanda want more in a man? what is there more to find in a man? Amanda professes that she is not in love with Darcy, or ‘Collin Firth in clingy pants’, but that she has standards. She loves ‘the love story, Elizabeth, the manners, the language and the courtesy,’ ‘it is part of what [she] is and what [she] want[s].’ But will she be happy at the end of her life, though, waiting for prince charming? Or will she end up forever waiting because there are no Darcys in the world and frustrated at the thought?

It is after this that she reads chapter 59 of Pride and Prejudice: the conversation between Jane and Elizabeth after accepting Darcy’s proposal, and it is also then that Elizabeth reappears in Amanda’s bathroom. As Lizzy intimated the first time, it is Amanda who has opened the door for her, not she herself who decided to pass through it. And it will be indeed Amanda who passes into Regency England through the door in the bathroom. After the door slams shut, Amanda is stuck and will have to start her learning process…

It is then that she meets Mr Bennet, Claude as his first name turns out to be (very appropriately the name of a useless emperor of Rome, featured in another ITV-series I, Claudius), and that she declares that Lizzy and she have swapped places, because Lizzy is writing a book and the house was too noisy for that. Whether she is really writing one, remains to be seen. What is sure, is that she is stuck in the story. That they indeed have swapped. She still tries to convince Elizabeth to open the door again, but Amanda’s need compels her to stay. A first light will be shed on that need, and the need of us all, at the ball of Netherfield where she kisses Bingley in a drunken fit of passion.

There she says what it is about:

‘In my world, Mr Bingley, all I ever do is dream about the loveliness of your world. The stately, elegant rituals and pace of courtship, of love-making as you call it, under the gaze of chaperones, of happiness against all odds and marriage… Here I am, I talk to you for two minutes, I kiss you and you… So I’m a little disappointed in myself, Mr Bingley. I feel like those guys that discovered that stone-age tribe and gave them the common cold, wiped them out. (Bingley sneezes)’

This in itself is not merely a declaration of frustration at her loose morals, compared to his (naturally because we are freer now than people were then. Free to snog outside the door of a nightclub), but it is also a declaration of her view on our freedom: the common cold wiped the tribe out. It is something the discoverers did obviously not think about because they have no trouble with it, but when it wipes the tribe out they see how potentially dangerous it is. It is because we are used to it, that we can fight it and conquer it. This, in Amanda’s mind, is also the case with us. We can kiss and make love (have sex as opposed to the use of the word in Austen’s times) with anyone without people questioning our honour, but have we not lost the importance of it all? As Michael, who asks for ‘Amanda’s hand in marriage’ with a bottle-opener, have we not lost the importance of love, family and marriage/fixed relationships in our society of total freedom? That is at least what Amanda seems to feel will happen to Bingley and the other characters if she carries on like she does; it is the same as what Mrs Bennet fears; and it is the same as what Lady Catherine fears and why the latter comes to take an attempt at throwing her out of Regency Society because ‘land, blood and property’ are the only things that matter. Amanda finds herself in danger of ‘spoiling’ the ideal world (of the noble savages) she discovered.
After this, Amanda tries to get Elizabeth back again (also partly because she herself is seducing Bingley instead of Jane), but again her need compels her to stay and the door does not open. This, time, a letter is shoved under the door:

‘My dear father,

I pray you, sir, not to trouble your mind about your most headstrong daughter. I quite flourish in Hammersmith. I’m minded to sojourn her alone a while. If I might be so presumptuous as to offer advice to my own father, then I would admonish him to pay particular attention to Miss Price. She is intimately acquainted with the doings of our family and I cordially believe her its most formidable ally. Trust her.

Your affectionate daughter, Elizabeth

Although this is a letter to her father, Amanda has to read it and pronounces ‘Trust her’ rather to herself than to Lizzy’s father. This provokes a thinking and it highlights Elizabeth’s role in Lost in Austen as an indication for Amanda’s learning process. Elizabeth was also born out of time, but in the end both Amanda and Elizabeth belong to the world of women, like Mrs Bennet and Jane who rebel respectively against Lady Catherine and Mr Collins in the end. Also the men will have to face up to their own needs, like originally Darcy did in Pride and Prejudice. Mr Bennet will take responsibility for his daughter, Bingley will rebel against Darcy and reproach him for losing him Jane, and Mr Bennet will also respect his wife better for speaking her mind. Like this, he does lose ‘authority’ as a husband, but he will no longer see her as a sad burden who is overdue. All this because of the influence of Miss Price (Bingley who ends up sneezing)… As Elizabeth and Amanda are both women, as ‘noble savages’ they should be able to cope in another society and change as a result, but only on the outside. Deep inside, both are good people and essentially the same although shaped by their own societal rules. Elizabeth will discover the modern world, while Amanda will discover more of a traditional role as a woman. Although, Elizabeth stays true to her role as traditional woman, caring for the children of the Rosenbergs. As it turns out, all appliances are on, but are they necessary?

If we go back to the beginning, does this not indicate that people have and had a certain image of women? We as women are not even allowed to choose anymore what we want. In the days of Austen we were the property almost of our husbands and the only thing we needed to do was find a husband and have children. Now, we have jobs, we have relationships that start and even end, unlike in Austen’s days, but are we still allowed to care only for our children and husband? can society cope with that view? Or are we not put inside a box, as the men in the second paragraph of Pride and Prejudice, so that we ‘must be in want’ of all this? What if we are in want of a Mr Darcy? That is probably what Amanda wants to escape to unconsciously when she reads Pride and Prejudice, only, it ‘frightens [her] to death’ as Lady Catherine put it. It frightens her to death because it is not what she learned she is as a woman. As in the second paragraph of Pride and Prejudice, people are supposed to be in want of something: women are now not naturally ‘in want of’ a husband, but now, they are ‘in want of’ everything else, while there is no father in Western Europe who will consent to maintain his daughter(s) until they get married… As such, Amanda needs to discover her traditional side as a woman in that world of Regency England. And Elizabeth will have to discover her modern side, although with a traditional twist.

The first episode concludes after Jane has left for Netherfield, in an attempt of Amanda to save the day for Jane and Bingley.

Eugenie and Gaston went Cycling - Fear for Sex

2009-04-12T15:03:00.000+02:00

Author: Marc Reynebeau

'About bad girls and lustful boys: sex between the two world wars – No-one wants to know how his parents or grandparents did ‘it’, but historians do. One hundred years ago there existed a great fear of sex, certainly amongst young people, certainly amongst girls. Everywhere there was the danger of moral decline.

Fourteen-year-old Eugenie, a greengrocer’s daughter from Deurne (near Antwerp) asked her new boyfriend Gaston, a carpenter five years her senior, in the Summer of 1934 to go cycling to the woods. Two days long their mothers didn’t hear of them and they called in the police – a disappearance. But when the two appeared again, there didn’t seem anything bad the matter. Or was there anyway? Because what had the two been doing in that wood?

Eugenie and Gaston admitted it very quickly: they hadn’t stuck to only holding hands in the forest. And that was a problem, because Eugenie was only fourteen. By having sex with her Gaston had made himself automatically guilty of ‘assault on the honour’ of Eugenie. That at least was what the law on the protection of children of 1912 determined: it had increased the minimum age for girls to consent to sex or sexual contact from fourteen to sixteen.

But maybe little Eugenie wasn’t so innocent as the ideal of the asexual child? That question at least is what the deputy head-commissioner asked himself when he researched the case. The law of 1912 had resulted from the apprehension in the bourgeois circles of the middle-class Catholic leaders of the country then. They had seen an increasing moral decline around them, certainly in the cities, certainly amongst the lowest classes of the population, certainly amongst the young.

Mainly young girls were not expected to be any good. The law criminalised their sexuality and found support for that idea in the medical sciences. Those couldn’t warn enough for sexual diseases that didn’t only harm the health of the girls themselves, but also threatened the health of their sexual partners and their children, and could even endanger ‘the race’. But they were mostly the ultimate proof of moral decline.

Although boys equally suffered from STDs they were only searched for actively in girls. The apprehension to them also comes across in the enforcing of the law. Where boys were mostly brought to the juvenile court for theft, girls were brought there for ‘bad sexual behaviour’, often for prostitution. And much more often than boys they were shipped of to ‘an institution’ for the purpose of re-education.

So the distrustful deputy head-commissioner hasted to the school of Eugenie, to the Grey Nuns. And yes, they told him that Eugenie ‘was often dreamy during classes and very common and low on morals. She is also madly in love with all boys and from this point of view she is, for her age, very developed.’ The policeman took his decision very quickly: ‘If there is still anything good to come from this child,’ thus he noted in his report, ‘then it will be possible only by locking her up in a special institution until the age of majority.’

What had happened between the two and how they themselves dealt with it – because their story has not been told fully yet – gives an accurate picture of the sexual norms in the past. But, although sex tickles the imagination, up until now historians often left the subject to itself [at least in Belgium]. The scientific magazine Belgisch Tijdschrift voor Nieuwste Geschiedenis (BTNG) (Belgian Magazine for Newest History [after WWII]) has just published an issue dedicated to just sex, which also features the story of Gaston and Eugenie.

The issue mainly talks about the first half of the twentieth century. That moment is the main focal point of current research. It is a period of sexual repression (and, not coincidentally, a period when women still did not have the right to vote for example [at least in Belgium]) – the reaction to that came with the sexual liberation of the sixties.

A lot of pieces in this BTNG-issue are supported by legal documents. That is partly due to the subject itself. It is not easy to find trustworthy, qualitatively high sources. The ‘detour’ through the justice system gives a good picture of the contemporary norms and the conflicts around them. Although it is no coincidence that just the legal system has so much to offer: in the name of care for the ‘morals’ sex got quickly pushed into an atmosphere of repression and control.
Sexual honour is a central issue In that. That was also the case for the lowest social classes, who also made sexual behaviour into a theme in public insults. That proves that people talked much more about sex than is usually believed. Although there as well, the double standards were not at all absent. Also in insults women were addressed about their sexual honour much more than men, even by other women. Men were permitted to relieve their vices, within certain boundaries – repressing it, that cannot be healthy.

Those double standards were also applied to Eugenie and Gaston. They were in a difficult situation: because of the police, their youthful and apparently spontaneous love-making had become a sexual offence. Not only because of the age-difference Gaston turned into a committer and Eugenie into a victim. If it was about sex, the man took the active role per definition – his lusts, you know – with the woman in the role of principle chastity and passivity.

But victims of sexual offences had to be worth the status. They could only be considered a victim through proving their sexual reputation. And with that Eugenie, according to the Grey Nuns’ accounts, had a great problem. That Gaston ‘walks on the street a lot and has a hard time leaving young girls in peace’ was much more easily excused.

And the accused of sexual offences knew very well that that was the mentality. In another case, in which a twenty-five-year-old was accused of sex with a girls of fifteen, he tried to talk himself out of it by blaming it on provocation. He regretfully adjusted to the dominant morals by stating that he came to insight when the girl took on an active role: ‘At that moment my desire was over, because I saw that I had to do with a bad girl.’

In order to maintain her honourable position and so situation of passivity (to avoid being sent to an institution), Eugenie could not do otherwise than have the police understand that Gaston forced her to have sex with him. ‘He asked whether I liked to have a boy’, she explained to the police. ‘I answered: no, don’t. After that he pushed me with his arm and I fell. I kept lying like that. After that he took off his trousers. And then he parted my legs and came to lie on top of me. He put his masculinity a little in my femininity.’

In order to plead extenuating circumstances Gaston had to state the exact opposite. So he made Eugenie into a seductress: ‘She said at a certain moment: I’d like to have boy of you, it has been in my head for a long time. I told her that she was too young for that still. She took her knickers off and then she loosened my trousers and she put herself on top of me. She put my masculinity a little in her femininity and she kept lying like that. I pushed her back and after that she left me in peace.’

During the next interrogations the truth seemed to lie where it always lies: in the middle. Gaston: ‘It is true that I lay on top of Eugenie and that I put my male part in her female part myself. She on the other hand let my do that.’ Eugenie: ‘It is true that I did not protest.’ And so it had been proven again how bad the moral decline was amongst youngsters.'

Author: Mark Reynebeau

'Little is known about the history of sexuality. The prominent idea is that people dealt quite uncomplicatedly with sex for a long time. That all changed in the 17th century when the Catholic church saw its ‘natural’ authority challenged by the Reformation. It tried to re-establish its power by enforcing strict rules on church-goers and making sex taboo during the Counterreformation.

A second tightening followed in the late 19th century with the triumph of bourgeois power. It ‘annexed’, via the state at least, also the body that had to serve production and reproduction, not anything else. Self-control became highly valued and the middle-classes made it their specific identity, of course not without double standards. With that they tried to distinguish themselves from what it thought of as the frivolous conduct of nobility and the unbridled vices of the lowest classes.

If this theory is right, then the sexual liberation of the sixties was nothing new, but only the return to a former ‘natural’ approach to sex. But that sexual freedom encountered fierce criticism in its time, just because it went against all fixed norms.

Although no-one should have too many illusions about the exemplary chastity of former generations. The fast spread of the pill shows that, apart from a normatively and religiously inspired ‘legal’ society, there existed also a ‘true’ society with a freer but therefore not valueless sexual practice. That tones down the complaint of so much Flemish literature of the sixties about the repressive Catholic morals: it mainly reveals the bourgeois background of the writers in which those morals were the most prominent.

The old fear for boundless sex amongst youths has come to the surface again recently, now that no-one can go on the internet without stumbling over pornography. But the criticism to what is now called ‘pornification’, is probably not more than a new variant of former fears for ‘moral decline’. The debate certainly looks very much like that, in the first place due to the danger of e

exaggerating.

Sociology has a term for that: moral panic. Because just like a century ago the sexual norms of the lowest classes were not in the least ‘bestial’, the Flemish youngsters of today strive for, all pronification left aside, a ‘normal’ monogamous family life.

It is certainly not a coincidence that the care about sexual promiscuity seems to crop up at moments when history is accelerating. That was the case in the beginning of the preceding century, In the sixties and today again. Because then the whole of society starts to move in a way which is difficult to understand.

Many people become insecure because of that, first the conservatives and whoever fears for his position of power. With ‘moral panic’ as the consequence. To that problem is answered with stricter rules, in the hope to recover control.

The debate about norms and values fits in that context. And it often focuses itself on sex because that is unique to all of mankind, it is of great importance to their intimacy and it influences their behaviour a great deal.

The articles were translated from the original in the Belgian newspaper De Standaard.

Even with the Belgian context of these articles we might understand then the Victorian sexual repression in literature. Essentially, it came out of the middle-class approach to self-control, not at all out of Puritanism or Protestantism, but rather from a much wider political perspective. The Victorians saw their society change, their cities change and expand rapidly and the lower classes slip into bad ‘bestial’ behaviour. From there, naturally, the Victorians’ fetish with control: workhouses where people were controlled physically (separate dormitories and places for both sexes and children) in order to ‘control’ the ‘bestial’ behaviours of the poor, madhouses where the mad were controlled and preferably cured so they could not pollute ‘the race’, the suburb where the middle-classes were happily settled away from the ‘bestial’ poor in the cities. With the middle-class authors came also middle-class literature that focused on those morals: Hardy, the Brontës, Gaskell and others complained about the repression. But was that repression not more in their own head, and in their own class, than really there for everyone?

More to the point of current affairs would be the debate about swearing. It astonished me to know that Princess Margaret used to swear a lot. It astonished me equally to hear a certain Lord in a documentary with politician Prescott, swear with the word ‘fucking’ at least three times. The man had had a serious education with appropriate accent and was a man of about fifty, yet swore as if it was normal. The other day I got told off by a man of about 70 for saying the word ‘bloody’. The man was a retired banker. Out of the above we may conclude that the debate about swearing only exists in the middle-classes who absolutely want to distinguish themselves from the higher classes (who do swear) and the lower classes (who certainly swear) with the result that they become extremely edgy about any word remotely sounding ‘rude’. In that sense it should also be asked what was the real problem with the statement about Andrew Sachs’ granddaughter. Yet Sachs got paid about £100,000 in damages by the BBC, whereas the statement was even true and the voicemail was not a voicemail but something that sounded like it. Or the fact that some people found Little Britain in America too close to the edge. Certainly the two last episodes of the two body builders was unnecessary, people found. Was it because the two actors were not at all naked but stuffed in a fat-suit, or was it because a ‘vagina’ was pointed out and earlier very little unrealistic penises shown? Is it not time for the English public to get out of hypocritical bourgeois Victorian standards? Granted: saying ‘fucking’ every five seconds is not fun, sounds stupid and is even annoying for the people who are listening, but on the other hand ‘bloody’ can not be really called offensive. Nor can ‘shit’ be called offensive if it does not reoccur every five seconds. It merely means ‘dung’ or ‘faeces’. If we were to say those words there would be no problem. Yet ‘shit’ is a ‘rude’ word. From time to time a swear-word to ventilate one’s excessive emotions that he/she can’t express is not at all a problem it seems to me. In other languages swear-words exist as well. They are not considered as really offensive, not to be used on television, or vulgar. People use them moderately. So it should be in English. But I guess the middle-class in England with their stiff upper lip is not yet conquered.

The aids-epidemic in Africa: the pope is (partly) right

2009-03-27T16:45:00.001+01:00

The pope may not be right all the time, according to Luc Bonneux (epidemiologist), but he has a point when he criticises the blind faith in condoms with which we are trying to tackle the African aids-epidemic:

'To my great amazement there are six Belgian parties that are going to ask the pope for an explanation. As if the man is going to take much notice of that. Belgian politics is the synonym for ridicule in the world at the moment… The faith in condoms is only there to be used by the white humanitarian worker. I will repeat the difficult facts… Epidemiology knows a difference between theoretical and practical efficacy. Condoms over steal dildos in a lab work a treat, but over the excited flesh of inexperienced couples there is a lot that goes wrong. Condoms have never been good contraceptives. The chance of becoming pregnant is 6% after one year. If one can become pregnant, one can get HIV. In experienced couples in steady relationships where the man is HIV-positive through contaminated blood-products there is a chance of 1% that the female partner becomes positive after 1 year of consistent condom use. Add a little alcohol, lack of experience, more hormones than common sense, and the chance to be contaminated will increase to several percents. Linking safe sex to condoms is, excuse the word, dangerous claptrap.

Epidemiology also knows a difference between population-strategy and high-risk strategy. With a high-risk strategy a limited group with a big problem is singled out. That in itself means very little for the whole population because the little group is necessarily a minority. The whole of the population only benefits with a population strategy. Condoms are useful for high-risk groups, certainly prostitutes. A healthy sexual way of life, graphically summarised by Mieke Vogels (Green politician) as ‘first blabla, then boomboom’, is good for the whole population.

The first articles on the aids-epidemic in Africa were published 26 years ago. Since then we have seen no evidence of substantial influence on that aids-epidemic. That is partly due to the fact that science has been replaced by ideology. While the moral arrogance of the ayatollahs forces the pope’s to fade, science has failed in showing any effects of condoms on the epidemic. That is not because of a lack of possibilities: the effect of circumcision has been shown. Why did HIV not spread through the whole population anywhere outside Africa? HIV spreads through trios: a contaminated partner is needed to get it and a second partner is necessary to transmit the virus. No trio, no transmission: HIV spreads only by multiple, simultaneous sexual partnerships, not by monogamy and hardly by serial monogamy (successive partners).

Sex with multiple partners at the same time and sex which crosses the generations is the motor of the epidemic in Africa. Young women are financially supported by ‘rich uncles’, promiscuous businessmen, in exchange for sex. That supplies murderous dynamics. Elsewhere experimental youths are protected by their youth, but not in Africa. Those ‘rich uncles’ sow the virus in youth communities and there it spreads through simultaneous partnerships. African women contaminate themselves primarily through steady partnerships. In that kind of relationships condoms are not used, partly because women like to become pregnant. The driving force behind the heterosexual epidemic in Africa is not really a shortage of condoms. Women there are the victim of adultery and ‘rich uncle’-pimps. African women find that as great as you, but they have no choice. African men are like you monogamous with a liking to adultery, if they can get away with it. The drama is that African men get away with it because of the lack of women-rights. A Catholic pope as moral authority has a lot to say about that.

The pope is terribly mistaken when he equals sex to procreation. Where children no longer die the woman is condemned by too high fertility. Intimate sex is a unique aspect of the human species, the carrier of monogamous relationships. Loving sex creates a powerful bond between the parents and through that protects their children. With their disgusting stand against loving sex successive popes haven lost a lot of moral credit in confusing times. But poor and unschooled people find worthiness and hope in religion. HIV-prevention must make a coalition with moral leaders. Experience in life is needed to choose a life partner, and so we must not start on sex too early. It is unhealthy to have sex as recreational sport, or to cheat on one’s partner. Whoever contaminates his wife through adultery is a bastard, whoever misuses his power to force young girls to sex is a pig. That goes here and in Africa. It is astonishing and sad that 26 years ago, that simple, clear, human message, supported by everyone with leadership, would have been able to prevent millions of transmissions.'

I suppose the article speaks for itself… Change the culture of adultery and how women feel about themselves and cheating men and all is well. But of course there is no-one who wants to admit that the pope is even partly right. Certainly in the west it is not fashionable to link the religious to politics, only if you are a weirdo like Bush. Although it seems like we should to tackle aids in Africa.

This article was translated from De Standaard and the original can be found here: http://www.standaard.be/Artikel/Detail.aspx?artikelId=AM289S61

On the Belgian Youth Book-week

2009-03-24T13:10:00.000+01:00

‘The Youth Book-week has taken off. Today is the beginning of a three-day event with more than a thousand participants, teachers and library-people. The question: what do we give our off-spring to read?
It is all a little confusing: the Youth Book-week lasts more than two weeks. And The Day of literary education’ lasts three days in turn.
But that is because there is a lot to tell. Dispersed over three days, there are close to a hundred seminars and workshops. All concentrated around the question: are we going the right way about the literary education of our youth? What can we do differently?
The organisers of Canon Cultureel (with the support of Locus and Boek.be) make it a book festival. As the focal point they flew over British success-writer Anthony Horowitz to Gent. Beside him there are Kader Abdolah, comic strip illustrator Conz, writing games doctor Jan Van Looy, and poet Peter Holvoet-Hansen.
In a cynical mood one might consider this three-day event as totally superfluous. At the end of last year the curriculum and goals for ‘reading comprehension’ and ‘listening comprehension’ were tested. They turned out quite alright. They found themselves at least on the same level as they were five years before.
89% of all students reached the norm for ‘reading comprehension’. Girls even turned out a little better – but the weak sex is always the strongest, that is a well-known fact. ‘Listening comprehension’ was also very good: 87% reached the norm there. Continue on the same road, one might think, never change a winning education team.
But it is not that simple. How come that the numbers of the French Community are higher [than the Flemish]? And even though we do well in European rankings, we cannot forget that goals and norms are minimal criteria.
But foremost: there seems to be a gap between families where Dutch is traditionally spoken and families where that is not the case. Of all children who are educated in a different language at home, only 70% reaches the norm for ‘reading comprehension’. For ‘listening comprehension’ it is even more worrying: only 55% reaches the norm. The minimum.
So we have to do our best more? Research shows that reading to our children and telling them stories diminishes dramatically once kindergarten is over. So we could try to do more of that.
Or we could try something else. That is what Caroline Janssen will profess during the next three days. As professor of Arabic Language and Culture at the University of Gent she is not an expert on educational matters or reading. Her ideas (‘fantasy’, she calls them herself) are also not limited by an existing framework. And just because of that they are so refreshing.
‘Literature in school is an inherent part of the various language subjects,’ is her starting point. ‘In the classes Dutch, English and French, students get the most important works of those languages to savour. Because of that we are looking through too small a spectrum. If we only touch upon authors of the same culture it is as if the surrounding cultures do not exist. In schools with a diverse population it could be worthwhile to offer something of other cultures.’
That of course demands another type of organisation. Instead of fixing literature in the language subjects it could become part of a subject ‘world-education’. ‘Such a subject does not exist yet,’ says Janssen, ‘but it could be one in which the student learns to understand other cultures. What are their realities? What are their goals? How do people live in other religions? It could be something like ‘Antics’. We have that as well, no?’
Examples are there by the bunch. [Janssen’s] group put together a bundle of ‘broken hearts in Oriental cultures’, texts about heartache from Mesopotamia to Japan. All cultures equally beside one another, linked by heartache.
‘There are loads of African, English-Indian texts at our disposal,’ says Janssen. ‘A novel like The Yacoubian of Alaa al-Aswani has a lot of potential. It tells the history of a building in Cairo, but on the side touches upon themes like corruption, sex or recent history.’’

I see Janssen’s point, but I think such a subject of ‘world-education’ would pass its aim or would not reach the aim that is assigned to it. The problem now, in my view, is that literature, arts, music and political history are not connected. Political history, in the best case, we get in the history class. I say ‘in the best case’, because, in Flanders at least, we get Western European history, which touches upon the most important things like the Greeks and Romans (no Celts, I’m afraid due to lack of time), the Germanic invasions and the fall of the Roman Empire, the development of cities and trade, medieval structures, the establishment of Islam, the discovery of America and the times of trade and colonisation, the Enlightenment and the French Revolution/Restoration, the 19th century and its Industrial Revolution, WWI (the establishment of the Soviet Union) and WWII (the Warsaw Pact), the Cold War, the fall of the Soviet Union. But, of course, all those different countries, have their own history, like France has its history before and after the French Revolution which made a large impact on Europe as well. The history class of course is not long enough to touch upon all those countries and their own history, but it is just that that shaped their arts, literature and music. After the political history, we get arts and music in the Aesthetics class. But this class, is only 1 hour per week and is only given during the last two years of education (16 to 18). It needs to cover all arts (painting, sculpting, graphics, photography, architecture…) and music from the Classic period, through the Middle Ages to modern times (installations). Celts, again, are not really touched upon, although a case could be made for Celtic knot-work in manuscripts from the early Middle Ages and on buildings, because this type of art lives on in for example Welsh love-spoons that are still given for weddings in Wales and no doubt modern artists of those parts have had those influences… Suffice to say that the class is a little short for all that. Even if the teacher knows what he is talking about and that is not always the case (as the class can be given by anyone), then still, to cover everything that is In the Louvre in Paris (and there is no music involved) one hour a week is a little short.

Now back to literature: literature class is part of the respective language subject, as Janssen said. Even if the teacher knows what he talks about, which is not always sure in my opinion, it is foremost important that the student knows the structure of the language, can talk, write and understand before he goes on to reading more lyrical things. Yet, of course, reading is also understanding. But, good literature, adult literature, is not read by 13-year-olds. On top of that, English, French and German are taught as foreign languages, so 13-year-olds are not able to read good things like Dumas, as their level is not up to scratch. Although, of course, there are writers which are even used in education for French children, like De La Fontaine and his fables, La Ligue des rats being one of them. Or for 15-year-olds it should be interesting to read some fairy-tales of Perrault, for example: short and good for vocabulary. I personally got, as a first taste of real French literature, a poem of François Villon: La ballade das pendus (the ballad of the hanged). For those who (do not) know their French literature, François Villon was a medieval poet… Tell me, a 13-year-old who has only been learning French for the last two years with maybe two hours a week on primary school level and with no knowledge of Latin, or a very limited one, what is the chance that he is able to understand medieval French? The chance is even smaller than a student who has been learning English for two years, two hours a week, is able to understand Shakespeare or Chaucer… Not… Structure is strange, vocabulary too difficult, and words strangely spelt… Fontaine was touched upon in the smallish ‘history of French literature’-part of the class, but not used. Although he is much more entertaining than hanged people, and much more easily comprehensible. Perrault was also touched upon. Not so easy to understand, and a little longer, but comprehensible nonetheless, if only for the fact that everyone knows what happens to Red Ridinghood or Le Petit Chaperon Rouge.

Further on in secondary education, books have to be read. Two a year. For every language subject. Mostly, for the foreign languages, the class starts with reading the same book… My first French book was a disaster. I didn’t finish it because I found it amazingly boring, dumb, badly written. Not that my knowledge of French was great, but I still remember that it was a ‘story’ in detective style, with a finger that was missing… I couldn’t give a damn about what was happening… It totally couldn’t appeal to me. I was not at all captured by detective stories and certainly not by bad uninteresting ones. It was only later that Agatha Christie appealed to me when I saw David Suchet play Poirot. Anyway, bad impressions last a long time. After that we got a list… A big disappointment, as big as the list. During the third, fourth, fifth and sixth year of secondary school (so for the whole period I had to choose a book from a reading list) I never encountered one that took my fancy, apart from once! It is sad to see that there was no Dumas, no Hugo (for the ones that actually were able to read him), no Molière, no Corneille, no Racine, no Fontaine, no Perrault, no great names on those lists. More unfortunate however, was the fact that there were no subjects apart from psychological problems, anorexia, incest, violence, abortion, rape, sexual abuse, and of course, the unavoidable, the Holocaust (mainly then about helpless Jewish children which the French have a great trauma about). Nothing against the Holocaust, the trauma it caused in society made it forever a subject in literature and art, but if half of the booklist every year consists out of that subject you really have done with it! In all those years, I read one good book: Un Allé Simple by Didier Van Cauwelaert. A story about a Moroccan boy, abducted by gypsies and arrested as an illegal immigrant on the eve of his engagement party. He is assigned someone to make sure he gets on the plain and stays on the other side. A man who has problems of his own (can’t recall what just, but I think something to do with his marriage). The two find each other in the book, a little like in the film Le Huitième Jour where a man gets out of his hole by the character of a boy/man with Down-syndrome and his ever positive look on life and the world in general. Twice I went to ask the respective teacher to read something else than was on the list: once Molière’s Avare and once I was offered another book of Van Cauwelaert which was equally interesting (a story about a family told by the father who had just died in his caravan that stood in the garden in order for him to be able to live with his mistress). For the rest, we busied ourselves with - apart from the usual grammar and exercises (which are indispensible for a good structural conception, the effects of the lack of it being illustrated by the English’ knowledge of French and other languages) - texts out of the textbook. Let’s say that they were not the most interesting and most useful ones… I do not consider an interview with the CEO of Club Med interesting and useful for a 17-year-old. And texts about judicial things like inheritances and other legal stuff are also not really to the interest of a teenager. Songs were also part of the curriculum, but although there are French singers as Gainsbourg, Brel, and other chansonniers that sang meaningful texts we got boring things of Jean-Jacques Goldman (the equivalent of Barry Manilow). For a teenager that is really not on. Two plays we did: Le Malade Imaginaire (The Imaginary Patient) of Molière at 15, which was not read in class, but only seen on stage at school. It is clear that Molière, for such a low level, must be read slowly before seeing it. Otherwise half of the text is not understood… Admittedly we did actually read excerpts, but in my view that is not enough. In the last year we did Le Rhinocéros (The Rhinoceros) of Ionesco, a Romanian-French absurd playwright. A little the same concept as Becket. I still cannot make out if the teacher actually knew what it was about, I still can’t (maybe because of the lack of explanation), but we went to see the play during our three-day trip to Paris (which made it a little clearer), which was crammed with art and architecture from morning to evening. Even for a routine art-looker-on like me (because my parents took me to most major exhibitions they wanted to go to (Magritte, Delvaux, Memling in Bruges, and others), and even to the world exhibition of modern art: the Biennale in Venice which they still go to every two years) it was just too much. I still remember the first day: leaving at 6 o’clock in the morning from Leuven (25km to the east of Brussels, on the E40), to Paris, there at about noon or 1 o’clock, see La Défense (the ‘newly’ built mainly business area of Paris, started in the 70s or 80s?), then moving on to the Musée d’Orsay (museum for the arts of the 19th century) and then off to the Centre Pompidou (centre for modern art). That was at about 6 o’clock in the afternoon. I have to say, already in the Musée d’Orsay, I couldn’t be arsed… The interest was there, but just not the energy… I would have loved to look at all those paintings and sculptures maybe even the most of my group of about 100 students, but I just didn’t have the energy. By the time we entered Centre Pompidou and I saw the fountain of Tinguely and his wife Niki de Saint-Phalle for about the fifth time in my life, I couldn’t find the energy to admire it again. I cannot remember anything from that point on. Although we still went around Paris until 11 at night, we went to eat spaghetti in some place, and we must have admired the Eiffel Tower from the Bateaux Mouche, but really from 6 in the morning until 11 in the evening… Overload. The next day, we went to the house of Rodin, which made an impression, I have to say. And then we were allowed to go round a little by ourselves, if I can recall rightly. All this, of course, is useless if one has not had some art history class or understanding. Fortunately, through my music education of about 7 years, I did have a conception of art history. Also through all the exhibitions my parents took me to (I am still thankful for that) I had an understanding of the Flemish Primitives, medieval art, the Renaissance, Baroque painters as Rubens and later ones as Rembrandt (although my father finds him absolutely ghastly), the 18th century, and the 19th century with Delacroix and David, Monet and the impressionists, and the later fashions as surrealism, expressionism and modern installation, abstract art and conceptual art. My classmates though, did not have all that and I doubt whether they were able to place things somewhere and see them in their context and not only see the outside. And so was and is it with books. How can students be taught something serious if it is not put into a framework?

This was as far as the French class went. The Dutch class was of course easier, concerning literature at least, as we were part of that same culture we were going to read about… Although, Flemish students do not only read Flemish books. Fortunately… I say fortunately because there is not a lot of greatness in the Flemish part of Dutch language literature. As we have long been dominated in Belgium by the French-speaking (and no hard feelings here, because I find that that problem drags itself on too long) one of the first real prose works was Hendrik Conscience’s Lion of Flanders (1838) (probably unknown by everyone who does not speak Dutch, or even is aware of the Flemish existing, if there is a case for that). After that a lot of other works, by other writers have been published, but I have the impression we never got out of the ‘poor little Flemish oppressed person’-mode. Not at least for most of the 19th century. Novels were about poor farmers, the Flemish cause (in true 19th century style), the Germanic ideal (as featured in Wagner’s operas and the Germans’ return to the supernatural and the old culture of fairies and magic). After WWII there was of course the trauma of collaboration, colonisation and the blacks that were murdered in the Belgian Congo. On the Dutch side, there was a lot more to be read, but of course, the Netherlands are not Flanders and so the East Indies is a new subject for a Flemish teenager. I savoured it through Couperus and Multatuli, but I don’t know if anyone else was really interested in it… It is striking how different the world perception of those two countries is in the 19th century: the Dutch are occupied with the bourgeois part of society that lives in the cities (in true English and German style), while the Flemish are occupied with the poor farmer who needs to fight against society to be allowed to live… A vast difference. When Hardy was writing about his sad characters, Zola in France was doing the same, Emants was doing that as well in the Netherlands and 20 years after, Buysse wrote a play about a poor family of farmers that was laughed at by French-speaking land-owners (there are the Walloons, or nasty French-speaking Flemish again)… In the 90s, Claus still wrote about the trauma of collaboration during WWII in a style worse than death… I once tried one book of his, after one of Saramago’s… With every Nobel Prize impending shortlist the Flemish made themselves strong about Claus being in the running. It of course never happened and it will never happen because the man is dead by ‘euthanasia’ or helped suicide because he did not want to end up totally senile after having been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s disease. Although he is dead and one should never speak ill of the dead, I would have considered it an insult for every writer who has won the Nobel Prize if he had been awarded it. Because his style is absolutely beyond all imagination. If he had been part of a bigger market, he would not have been awarded the right to publish… The contrast was heaven-wide with Saramago's book... The height of Flemish literature in the 90s was a contraption of Tom Lanoye, a reworking and 'translation' of the kings’ dramas of Shakespeare (as if those masterpieces need reworking). A twelve hour long (true!!) piece of theatre, that was put on stage during one whole day (with several breaks I hope and suppose) and where prince Edward (which number I cannot recall) every five minutes says ‘fucking’. This is no joke. We read an excerpt in class of it. When the teacher asked us what we thought of it, she fortunately picked me. I said I was mortified, Shakespeare revolved in his grave (we were just reading or had just read Romeo and Juliet in the English class). She sadly thought it was brilliant… Mr Lanoye clearly did not fathom English culture and certainly not Elizabethan culture for that matter. Shakespeare might have invented the word ‘ass’, but the word ‘fuck’ was certainly not used to put in between words every five seconds! But there were other authors, Flemish ones, that were not so bad: Louis Paul Boon, for example, I enjoyed reading. He was mostly concerned with social issues, being a communist, but wrote in true sixties style: with his own spelling and sometimes in patchwork format. He wrote about the vile side of society, but with style. Unlike the sad dwelling on the past of Claus, he was able to capture the attention of the reader for repulsive acts of incest, murder, paedophilia, voyeurism and social deterioration. He went inside the minds of people like that and found out why they did it and how those acts shaped the rest of the lives of the others who were involved in them, he did not dwell on the thing that happened itself… Willem Elschot is another of the ones who made it with absurd stories of people in the 20s and 30s who want to get somewhere but somehow can’t because of their own weaknesses. In a style that is easy to read and imaginative alike.

The English class was altogether different from the time we were 17… Before we were reduced to read little texts or dialogues and make endless exercises on the tenses. But all that changed when we ended up in the one-before-last year of secondary school. All of a sudden the textbook was interesting: articles about phobias and their background, English society, sleep (REM and non-REM), sleeping positions, statistics on education, short-stories… But foremost we had a teacher who knew what she talked about when she taught us books and poetry (because she was also our Dutch teacher at that time): a woman named Vanh. . If she ever recognises herself here, she will be pleased to see that my English has dramatically improved (partly due to my husband), that she was the one who at last featured a good book list for English, and that it was her who consequently triggered my love for books. Everything was on that list: Agatha Christie (all!), Hardy, Orwell, Dickens (all or nearly), Wilde, Eliot, Brontë (Charlotte, Emily and Anne). You name it, it was on it. The year after, we had to read all the same book: Huxley’s Brave New World. My conclusion out of the contrast between the booklists for French and English is that there is mainly one reason why only certain books are taught and why there exist only certain lists: because, like you and me, the teacher has a taste, and the teacher has a level, the teacher has to read the books that are on the list, and foremost the teacher cannot afford to be put right by a smarter student. The impressive booklist we got for English that year, which counted at least three pages with codes of difficulty on it and the number of pages (in contrast with the French, one or two in big print) implies a teacher who likes to read, enjoys it, and feels confident enough to get challenged by her own students. I in the end stayed modest and took as my first book A Christmas Carol by Dickens, which appealed but might have been a little difficult to capture Dickens’ true style. Anyway, my second off that list was Wilde’s A Picture of Dorian Gray which did appeal thoroughly to me (although during my exam I said that the book was mainly about idleness, meaning vanity, but idleness sounded the same as the Dutch word ijdel, years after I realised why my teacher smiled when I said that word… ), my third was Greene's Mr Fischer or the Bomb Party. My parents were sensible enough to give me Dahl’s Charlie and the Chocolate Factory and Milne’s Winnie-the-Pooh and the good impression lasted. ‘Hey, I can understand this’, rather than the French ‘ugh’. I graduated from secondary school in 2000 and then I went on to study Germanic Languages, Dutch and German (no English as I wasn’t confident enough). German books went down well (one of the most cultured peoples in Europe), but sadly I wasn’t able to continue my studies due to personal problems. I had a disgust for reading for a while because of the overload in university, but in 2005 I picked up Dumas’ Count of Monte Cristo in the original French (!) version. I have loved him ever since and in the meantime have finished his trilogy of the musketeers: The Three Musketeers, Twenty Years Later and The Vicomte de Bragelonne. I cannot see how it is possible that an author like that, who is not terribly difficult - unlike Hugo I admit (whom I have tried and successfully finished his fantastic masterpiece Les Misérables) – was not on any booklist. Admittedly, his books are long. But is it not more important to leave people the choice than to thrust things they do not like upon them? In all those four years I did not finish one book for school for French off those lists, with the one exception stated above. I just could not spend my time on them. If they had allowed me Dumas, it would certainly have tickled my fancy. All three English books I finished and read more in my spare time. But of course, the teacher should be prepared to spend his time on those books. Unlike the English teacher Vanh. , the French teachers were apparently not so keen on reading great authors. Hugo, I can imagine, is too difficult, but still for the French speaking teenagers there could be something in that. Dumas is totally not difficult. I could read him before I went to uni in 2000 and I was bad at French. I started on Monte Cristo, but then my courses started and I was obliged to quit because there were other books to read. Why not allow students funny things by Fontaine, or even excerpts from Dumas? Perrault? In stead of dwelling on anorexia and rape? The life of a teenager is depressing enough without being made aware of other people’s problems as well… But all those books were thin ones… Not for nothing I expect?

So in order to feature, like Janssen says, other cultures, it is essential that teachers are interested in other cultures and their texts. It is totally useless to have some Chinese students, Moroccan students, Turkish students and so forth, in a class and a teacher teaching them texts that are an inherent part of their culture, with the students knowing the surrounding culture better than the teacher… Another possibility is of course to have the students teach the other students, but then we are reduced to the cultures present in the school or class and students are no teachers. In Brussels such presentation by students could be ok because of the variety of nationalities, but I doubt whether in other areas we would not be largely reduced to Flemish texts. Texts, as Janssen says, are part of a culture and as such that culture must be understood in order to teach those texts. It is totally useless to teach Buddhist texts by someone who doesn’t have a clue. For the English, just think about everything that has been written about Victorian literature. That is only about one part of English literature. If the English were to understand everything straight away because they are ultimately of the same basic culture as the English 200 years ago, all that shouldn’t have been written. Yet it is, so there is something to understand. What is the chance that someone of a foreign culture will understand Victorian literature to the full if no explanation is given? It is totally useless for that matter to have literature taught by someone who doesn’t have a clue, or even worse, by someone who thrusts his own (ghastly) taste upon his students. The list of Vanh. might have been canonic, but at least there was everything from Austen to the twentieth century on there. What was sure was that it was good, whatever you chose. As such, she accomplished her task as a teacher: to know, to offer and hopefully to convince. The French teachers might have known, but certainly did not offer and they did not convince me. I was convinced by Dumas in 2005. The German teacher did her best, even with the low level she reached in four years, two of which with one hour a week and the two last with three hours a week (only because I was in the Modern Languages section). We read one book with her, which was equally bad as the French one and I couldn’t be arsed to read it. As I was a good student with straight 10s (out of 10) all the time, or at least 9s, I could afford what I did: to refuse to answer the questions for homework and get 1 out of 20 for my opinion that was the only thing I really had written myself. I copied the rest from my friend, like two other classmates. With the difference of course that I had a reason not to do that homework: I could read Goethe and was not going to be coerced into reading a book I did not like about a poor handicapped boy. I told her straight in my opinion. I offered to make whichever punishment she wanted to inflict upon my friend myself. She took my point, punished the others for their laziness and acquitted my friend who only supplied her homework to copy by me (entirely) because I wanted to have something to give the teacher. She and I knew that I could afford to have the marks of my next test halved. The others had been lazy. During the next great summer holidays, I read Goethe’s Leiden des Jungen Werthers and no problem. Absolutely beautiful writing. Too difficult for a first book for the rest. My teacher knew that as well and was aware of what I and my friend could read and could see my point and why I did not want to read the book she supplied. I accepted the 1 out of 20 and had still great marks with the next report…
So, what needs to happen in order to have our children read more and better? To link political/societal history, art history and music in a class of maybe indeed ‘world-education’, but taught by someone who knows his stuff. If then, the language teachers would do one project a year about one book and its different facets, we might get somewhere. Allusions can be addressed, additional texts or excerpts can be read (if not too difficult), style in itself can be addressed, and foremost, the greater themes linked with society and morals could be looked at. As such the students would get offered a way of reading and would not be left to their own fantasy. Foreign texts (not part of the studied language subjects) could be taught In the mother tongue, in maybe a separate class, but also by a properly trained teacher. For Chinese books, it is interesting to look for example at Chinese society, history (Maoist revolution, the cultural revolution) and its effects now. For Scandinavian books it is interesting to look at the Swedish oppression of Norway, the fascist regimes in WWII, their way of life, their belief in trolls. There seems to be a very strange quietness or openness/vastness in all their books. Why? Offer the students a way of understanding literature and they will be able to link what was taught to them with other arts and architecture. The vast side of early romanticism features in Friedrich’s German paintings and Doré’s engravings. The early historic novel like Scott’s Ivanhoe is not limited to literature, but that principle also features in neo-gothic architecture of prisons and town halls like Manchester's. The realism of Dickens features in paintings of the time. The links are endless, and all that came out of and influenced politicians' choices. The philosophy of Enlightenment influenced the French Revolution, which in turn, brought on the Romantic movement. If that were taught in schools, savouring art and history would be much easier for students, also in the future, but for this concept we need teachers who are prepared to study and not only to teach. And schools must be prepared to offer those teachers and their students the proper material.

The article from De Standaard was faithfully translated from this link: http://www.standaard.be/Artikel/Detail.aspx?artikelId=5C283PFM&subsection=4

A review of the Belgian Newspaper De Standaard on Tess that just made its debut on national television

2009-03-21T15:28:00.000+01:00

They are not pleased, to say the least…

'Speaking of failure! Tess of the d’Urbervilles may well be a beautiful novel by Thomas Hardy, and the BBC may well have a good reputation for costume drama, in this case the two did not find each other. The first episode of this four part series was the weakest we have ever seen in the genre.

Tess is the story of a fallen woman. Gemma Arterton was reasonable in her role, but not more than that.

The script of David Nicholls that told the story in its big lines, allowed little psychological depth. Hans Matheson as the villainous Alec could not force himself to the foreground either. Both characters excelled in stereotypical mimics.

It is surprising how the BBC sometimes succeeds in digging out a refined result from the dusty attics of the costume drama tradition, like in their recent series Cranford, and how sometimes they succeed in making it ever so bland.

Tess showed the pastoral landscape of Wessex, with green hills and white maidens, but had us never savour the dust. Even the mud was photogenic. For an adaptation of a naturalist novel that is dubious.

We had to figure out the tragedy of Tess, who gives birth to the child of a castle squire, from one sad weeping fit with her mother. The camera films all from a safe distance, without really plunging into the characters. Only the feast-scene with the workers seemed to bring a little more reality, but that was all past in one breath.

The lowest point was the scene of rape. Not that it should have been (more) realistic, but there happened something which was not going to be easily symbolised with a little floating mist. Then the scene with the strawberry prior to that (Tess bites into a strawberry hanging from the hand of Alec, a sexual metaphor) was of a higher level.

The latter is called ‘poetic adaptation’. Television, in the last twenty years, has moved on, and Nicholls could have done more with Tess (and soon with The Return of the Native). (vbp)

Tess of the d’Urbervilles. Each Tuesday night on Eén at 8.40. Number of viewers: 793 160.' (where a good show as the news fetches about 1 million).

De Standaard gave a score of only 3/10…

I do think that the journalist of De Standaard was off the mark when he took the scene with the strawberry as an example of a higher level of filming. It is even sadder, as that scene was in the book and so the writer stole it from the original. With the rest, and there I do agree with the journalist, Nicholls did not know what to do. BBC, you can do better.

(The article was faithfully translated from the website of De Standaard and can still be found there today.)
http://www.standaard.be/Artikel/Detail.aspx?artikelId=FQ27SR1H&subsection=64

The Treatment of Bertha Rochester in a True Contemporary Context

2009-03-09T12:04:00.000+01:00

People always seem to land in the same position when it comes to interpreting Rochester’s treatment of his wife. Readers of Jane Eyre seem to be biased towards Rochester treating Bertha well, in comparison to the care that was available then, because they presume that care for the mentally ill was the same all through the past up until the invention of medication and modern ways of dealing with psychiatric patients. They seem to think that Bethlem, as it was from the 1800s to the 1830s like Norris described it, was the standard all through the 19th century or that psychiatric patients were not able to be treated, or kept calm at least, without medication (which is of course available now), and so had to be restrained or confined. Yet there have been a number of asylums like the York Retreat that professed ‘non-restraint’ and ‘moral treatment’. Did they never confine or mechanically restrain people? Was this all a sham, as some professors and people in the field claim, or was it serious? And what with really violent people? I will attempt to throw a glance at what were the practices of non-restraint, not only the theory, but what actually went on in the asylums where that was professed.

Firstly it needs to be said that the conditions in which mad people were kept in the early 1900s are not at all the same as the conditions in the 1840s when Jane Eyre was written and to what its initial public was obviously used to hearing (because issues got debated in the press) (Roberts). Roberts writes, on his site dedicated to care for the mentally ill and part of the University of Middlesex, about the 19th century in general: ‘The early period of state asylums was custodial, out of it developed a period of therapeutic optimism that reached its height in the 1840s, and declined into therapeutic pessimism in the second half of the nineteenth century.’ It seems that there was a high in the 1840s of therapeutic optimism, so what did that mean? Roberts writes: ‘The optimistic period in the history of asylums runs from about 1830 to around 1860. It was at its height in the 1840s. Asylums built under the 1808 and 1828 County Asylums Act tended to be left to the management of doctors. As the theories and techniques of managing lunatics in asylums developed, so did the belief that this asylum treatment itself was the correct, scientific way to cure lunacy.’ The only way was up, as it seems. What’s more is that the period 1830s to the 1840s is particularly important to Brontë and her opinions as that was the time of her teenage years in which opinions are formed. It is especially acknowledged in research concerning political participation. (J. Gimpel, J. Lay, J. Schuknecht, Cultivating Democracy). Issues that were debated in the prss must then certainly have found their to Brontë and her perception of lunacy and its proper treatment. About therapeutic pessimism, Roberts writes: ‘The pessimistic period in asylum history developed during the second half of the nineteenth century. Medical theory was strongly influenced by social darwinist beliefs that insanity is the end product of an incurable degenerative disease carried in the victim's inherited biology, and the experience of asylums, and reanalysis of their statistics, undermined the earlier beliefs in their therapeutic value. In the late 19th and early 20th centuries, the pessimistic period in asylum history ran gently into a backwater period. Most progress in mental health policy took place outside the asylums, in specialist hospitals like the Maudsley, or in outpatient departments, and the asylums became the quiet back wards where chronic patients live.’ During the second half of the 19th century social darwinism had taken over. Degeneration was a natural social process and intervening in it (by treating patients in an attempt to cure them f.i.) harms the natural process and is ultimately harmful to society (Roberts). Thus, from an enlightened time of treating the mentally ill, asylum care went backwards, back to the days before treatment. Scientific research in the psychiatric field continued but only in very restricted circles. The reform of humane treatment did not last also partly due to the problem of overcrowding (University of Alabama) as more and more people were admitted to asylums because they were deemed mentally ill (Roberts). Peace could no longer be maintained, keepers were overstretched and as a result reduced to confining patients again. (University of Alabama)

It is obvious that something went on from the end of the 18th century to about the middle of the 19th, this in connection with the Enlightenment which brought a new way of thinking (Edginton). Particularly the case of King George III (of England) who was mad himself, raised awareness for the insane (Roberts), as people did not want to picture their beloved king in a straightjacket. The first to start a more humane approach to asylum care were the Quakers, led by Tuke, who founded the York Retreat in 1796. They decided to found an asylum after the death of one of their members in the conventional York Asylum (Bewley for RCPsych) and speedily took it over by force (Roberts). Bewley writes about their approach: ‘The views of the original promoters of this establishment shed some light on the psychological, moral and medical treatment available to the mentally ill at that time. Although they were aware that abuses existed in many asylums, they expected that there would be people from whose practice they might learn and by whose instructions they might be guided in the main principles of their moral and medical treatment. The system at that time generally adopted relied on the principle of fear to govern the insane. The practical consequence deduced from this was that attendants should initially relate to patients with an appearance of austerity and perhaps the display of personal strength; in some cases of violent excitement, force would be the most suitable method of control. At the beginning the Retreat assented to the general correctness of these views and although they were modified by the good sense and feeling of the management committee, they were acted upon to an extent that we can hardly contemplate without surprise today.’ In other words, the Quakers acknowledged that the mentally ill which they wanted to care for, were usually governed by fear (of their keepers) and their initial approach should be similar. Yet, they moved towards a more humane treatment by modifying the rules. So we can conclude that they did not from one moment to another remove all restraint and hoped for the best, which would be very unrealistic indeed. Beside that, there was the problem for the Quakers that they were the first in England, and that they had to make their own policy and philosophy. On top of that they did not have experience and needed to learn, but renew at the same time. So the likelihood of restraints being removed at once without regard for side-issues is very small indeed and could be a romantic view of it. However, the method of non-restraint when it was finally established should not be taken lightly as it still works today (not least in the York Retreat itself).

Further on in the same article Bewley writes about treatments they used in order to calm people. It shouldn’t be thought that their only ‘therapies’ consisted in cleanliness, order, useful occupation, religious service and education. They did use calming medication (as laudanum), although that was largely limited to agreeable patients before the invention of the injection needle, and they used baths cold and hot. A case note from Thomas Prichard, who managed Northampton Lunatic Asylum from 1838, describes the case of a 31 year old railroad labourer who attacked his wife, bit her and was confined in a pauper asylum and was transferred to Northampton having worn a straightjacket for a week prior to that. Prichard deemed ‘restraint unnecessary’ and advised to have the man treated with ‘digitalis, antimony tartrate and calomel’. He also had to be kept quiet and cool, and should get a ‘low diet’. Digitalis is now used against heart failure and problems with heart rhythm, but due to its toxicity, it causes, in too high doses, ‘nausea, vomiting, anorexia, diarrhea, abdominal pain, wild hallucinations, delirium, and severe headache’ (Lacassie). Admittedly it can cause death, but provided the fact that its medicinal effectiveness was already addressed in 1785 by Erasmus Darwin and William Withering (College of Physicians, An Account of the Successful Use of Foxglove in Some Dropsies and in Pulmonary Consumption, London, 1785), it can be considered that doctors knew which doses were lethal and how much one should give to the patient in order to purge, which was a common practice, and which no doubt had a calming effect (only down to the lack of energy). Antimony tartrate or Antimonium Tartaricum is a substance still used in Homeopathy today (Séror). It causes nausea, headaches, drowsiness, weakness of circulation and is now used for things as bronchitis, but was then used in order to relieve certain symptoms of insanity. (Talcott, Compendium Mental Diseases and their Modern Treatment, 1901). Calomel or mercury chloride was a laxative, used for the same purpose as digitalis. Although it has now been phased out of use because of its toxic nature, back then it was widely used for medicinal purposes, also for pneumonia (University of Alabama). Whatever may have been the merits of the medication the railroad worker admitted to Northampton got, two days after his admission and necessarily the application of his medication, he asked to work in the garden and did that for more than an hour. By the 13th of August 1838, a mere twelve days after his admission on the 1st of that month, he worked in the garden every day from 9 a.m. to 6 p.m.. The same man was discharged ‘recovered’ 2 months after admission. The same man had, as stated above, bitten his wife, but also escaped confinement, knocked down his keeper, scaled two high walls and then banged his head against a bridge. (Thomas Prichard and the non-restraint movement at the Northhampton Asylum, C. Haw and G. Yorston for the Psychiatric Bulletin, 2004). It needs to be asked of course how long the man was ‘recovered’ and how long it was before he was back into care, but by restraining him there would probably have been no way he would ever have ‘recovered’.

The same article examined the records of the first 50 cases brought to the asylum. 70% of patients brought in had had a history of violence towards others and 22% had harmed themselves or attempted suicide. 18% of patients had been restrained in a previous institution (it needs to be noted that only 74% of patients came from a ‘previous institution’, namely workhouse or other asylum (68%), infirmary (4%) or gaol (jail) (2%) and that 10% was not indicated and 6% came from home) and 16% was brought to Northampton in restraints. Only In 14% of cases restraints were taken off on admission while 8% over all was temporarily restrained in the asylum. Seen that 70% had a history of violence it is remarkable that only 30% was violent in Northampton and that only 8% was temporarily restrained there (Haw and Yorston). Thomas Prichard said that his system was one ‘of kind and preventative treatment, in which all excitement is as much as possible avoided, and no care omitted’ (Northampton Record Office, 1840). It is imaginable that the more excitement provided, the more risk there is that the patient will get violent. However it needs to be noted that both researchers remarked that it is possible that not all restraint was recorded. But even then there is more than a 50% gap between the patients of those 50 that were restrained before and the people of those 50% that were restrained in Northampton. It seems highly unlikely that in more than 50% of cases the restraint would not have been recorded, while in other cases that was done.

Prichard noted another ‘remarkable’ case, even for his conception:

A servant, 31 years of age, was admitted to Northampton on the 30th of August 1838 with ulcers in the lumbar region, legs and ankles because of being strapped to a bed. After her first attack of insanity she was sent to the local infirmary where they had treated her with bleeding and blisters, but that had not made anything better. She destroyed her clothes. Prichard decided to take restraints away and noted: ‘continued in the state about a week during which time she was very bad destroying her bed continuously, tearing clothes to pieces and talking in a most incoherent manner to herself. [She was] treated with both shower baths and laxatives and bathing the head, under this other improved when tonic mixture was given and she rapidly recovered her reason.’ In February 1839, he wrote on the same case, that ‘it had been a very interesting [one]’ and that she had filled the vacant post of a nurse ‘for the last two weeks’ (!). In March 1839 he discharged her and hired her as a nurse!

Of course not all things went like that. Despite the non-restraint policy, naturally restraint was sometimes necessary. But it was kept to a definite minimum. For controlling aggressive behaviour the man used solitary confinement, low rations and shower baths, however in rare cases he did use restraint. (Robinson, 1859).

Another great man in the movement of non-restraint was John Conolly. In her article John Conolly and the treatment of mental illness in early Victorian England, Haw discusses the possible medication Victorian psychiatrists had at their disposal. It needs to be acknowledged that we are not considering true ‘psychiatric’ medication that tackles the disorders themselves, because those drugs like anti-depressants were 20th century inventions. Also the principles of medicine were totally different at the time. Haw writes: ‘Patients were frequently subjected to a wide variety of drastic purgatives and emetics, such as croton oil, castor oil, extract of rhubarb and aloes (Esquirol, 1845). Constipation was commonly believed to exacerbate insanity, hence alienists were preoccupied with the state of their patients’ bowels and the desirability of producing daily bowel actions (Esquirol, 1845; Rush, 1812).’ Haw argues, like I thought, that ‘dehydration and electrolyte inbalances might have exhausted an excited schizophrenic or manic patient into a state of temporary quietness and thus appear to have alleviated their condition.’ But Conolly was more cautious and did not approve of ‘drastic purgation’. Beside purgation that was considered ‘wholesome’, there were of course also sedatives that could be used: opiates like morphia salts, hyoscyamine, although the latter is extremely poisonous, but it would not be the first extremely toxic medication… Those sedatives were used to make patients sleep when they were excited (Haw). Surprisingly, or maybe not so, Conolly preferred the latter (Haw), but still found ‘a copious draught of cold water often a better sedative than any medicine’ (Report of the Resident Physician at the Hanwell Asylum, 1840). She does conclude that toxic drugs were often used in psychiatry then, but Conolly did have the wariness to remark that antimony and digitalis seemed ‘to lower the strength of the lunatic beyond expectation, but without significant improvement in the mental state (Report, 1840).

Drugs were of course not the only means of treatment. There were a number of other methods that were applied like bleeding, blisters, calming in general, the whirling chair, warm baths and giant rocking horses in the courtyard. Because physicians were obsessed with physical causes of mental illness, they bled certain areas that were deemed the cause of mental discomfort. Blisters, moxas (burns caused by a Japanese burning herb) and setons (the application of a thread through a fold of skin) were applied with the aim of counter-irritation (Haw), Conolly did use blisters occasionally, but never moxas or setons (Haw). Depression was thought to result from a debility in the gastric system and so small blisters and leeches were applied to the epigastrium and a bland diet was prescribed (Haw). Furthermore Conolly and Esquirol asserted that madness was the result of an over-excited brain and they believed that shaving the head and applying a paste containing antimony or cold packs (bladders with powdered ice) was wholesome. Shower baths were also deemed calming and Conolly reported that patients were calm for days or even months after one (Haw). Morison used the douche, but Conolly did not like it as it was too much of a punishment (Haw). While he disapproved of the whirling chair which rotated at high speed so as to shock people out of their delusions, Conolly calmed patients down with warm baths in order to soothe them to sleep. Equally sleep-inducing were supposed to be the giant rocking horses for the patients in the courtyards on which several patients at the time could take place. (Haw)

When Conolly visited the Lincoln Asylum in 1839, where non-restraint was already practiced by Hill, he decided to do away with all restraint in Hanwell as well and managed that in three months (Haw). However, the ideal situation that was present in Lincoln with its mere 150 patients, was not there in Hanwell as that was an asylum with 800 inmates. To achieve his goal he increased the number of keepers from 1 per 25 patients to 1 for 18 patients and increased the wages to £25 a year. (Haw)

In order to calm patients down, Conolly decided on seclusion which would remove all irritating sources from an excited brain. To prevent misuse by the attendants he ordered them to meticulously record any use of the padded rooms, which he had specially constructed, and they at all times had to inform a member of the medical staff (Haw). He noted about the absence of restraint that ‘the wards are less noisy, frantic behaviour and manic paroxysms are less frequent, patients are more cheerful and cleaner.’ (Conolly, reprinted 1973)

There were of course patients who were not correctible in their violence or destructiveness. Women who were continually destroying their clothes, he did not restrain, however, but just supplied them with stronger dresses and a leather belt with a lock (Haw). For epileptic patients that were fastened to their beds at night for fear of fits - he did not continue practicing that because he found it unsafe - he made their beds lower and padded the rooms (Haw). But it did not stop with non-restraint and moral management. He improved the wards’ hygiene, lighting and heating in winter. He kept the patients equally hygienic and warm. The food was of better quality and of a bigger amount. Employment was provided. Even leisure activities were supplied in the form of dances, dinners, tea parties and seasonal activities (on a grand scale, for several hundreds of patients!). He also trained the nurses in order to improve their care to his patients and ended up (after some doubt on their part) with a loyal workforce (Haw). Nevertheless, even he could not fail to see that a large number of patients never recovered: ‘the consequences [of non-restraint] may not be that a much greater number of perfect recoveries are effected, for recovery is impossible in a majority of cases of insanity, but the actual number of the insane thus kept in the living and intellectual world, and enjoying a great share of happiness, is immensely increased.’ In the end Conolly was saddled with a lot of chronic patients that indeed did not recover. Though Haw does comment on the ‘occupational therapy’ being certainly in a modern view exploiting, she does put it in its Victorian context of literal ‘usefulness’. She concludes further: ‘We can usefully apply Conolly’s healthy scepticism over physical and drug remedies for mental illness to today’s treatments, although we now have the benefit of the double-blind technique by which to judge a treatment’s efficacy.’

It should also be mentioned that animals were used in a therapeutic way! The first to introduce them was Tuke (again). By 1813 be had put in his airing courts rabbits, hawks, poultry and seagulls (although it is not clear what the rabbits actually thought about that). Conolly had ‘various tame animals’ in his wards and ducks and ‘other aquatic fowl’ in his yards by 1847. In Bethlem, by 1860 they had birds, cats, canaries, squirrels and greyhounds. (Allderidge)

In connection with non-restraint, there was the moral management-approach which tried to ‘increase the conscience and will of patients and thus to combat insanity by increasing self-control’ (Haw). In his article The Well-Ordered Body: The Quest for Sanity through nineteenth-century Asylum Architecture, Edginton makes a link between the philosophy of the day concerning curing insanity and the architecture of the asylums that had to provide a space for it, as Tuke said it. Moral management could not be applied without a place that allowed such things as Classification, Routine, Discipline and Contact with the Landscape, without which moral management was non-existent. Classification, Routine and Discipline were needed to make a copy of the normal and natural (the sane) in order to put the abnormal (the insane) in it. The cheerful, agreeable aspect, the wholesomeness of the site, the sense of space, the temperature and the comfort would be able to pass from the outside, where it was sensed, to the inside (the mind). Thus a well-ordered asylum would produce well-ordered minds (Edginton). Patients were classified according to class, gender, behaviour, type of insanity: ‘Those who are violent, require to be separated from the more tranquil, and to be prevented, by some means, from offensive conduct, towards their fellow sufferers. Hence, the patients are arranged according to classes, as much as may be, according to the degree in which they approach rational or orderly conduct.’ (Tuke, Practical Hints on the Construction and Economy of Pauper Lunatic Asylums, W. Alexander, 1815). That is as far as the importance of classification goes. The healing aspects of nature, though, were present in the construction of the places themselves: great window space, verandas, large day rooms, gardens, sports facilities as bowls, tennis and cricket and a farm. Edginton remarked that from all windows one had a view of the landscape/nature. Even when there were walls around the airing courts, the places where the windows were were elevated enough so as to look over them. Windows were cleverly constructed so people would not jump out of them: they only opened 6 inches top and bottom, they consisted out of little panes and they were four feet from the floor. They were always directed south and they had an uninterrupted view of the landscape. The asylums did not have fences, but instead a ditch with a wall on the other side so the lunatics could not escape (a so-called ha-ha), but did have an uninterrupted view of the landscape and did not feel ‘locked in’ by a fence or wall. (Sennett) That design was an effect of the ways people wanted to cure insanity and it was apparent in the design of lunatic asylums by the 1840s. While Wakefield (1818) and Cornwall (1820) were built like the asylums installed in buildings that were not purpose-built (prisons or similar buildings like convents) with a few alterations as to view and space, by the 1880s asylums were built according to gaiety (Edginton, a view also shared by Roberts and Rutherford who examined the influence of Moorfields Bethlem built in 1815 with a corridor plan ending in two pavilions). The concept of moral management had first been identified in the Retreat of Tuke: the realisation of the humanity of the insane or their incompleteness as rational individuals; the need for non-medical or the psychological aspects of treatment; the treatment of the insane as children and the asylum organisation as a family; the use of nature as a means of calming insanity. (Edginton) Thus, together with the classification, routine and discipline provided, the design of the asylum itself became a therapy to make the insane sane. (Edginton)

The Audit of Violence of the National Healthcare Commission between 2003 and 2005 in the UK asked about violence on psychiatric wards. 50% of staff of all levels of 203 wards was questioned and for each ward there were 20 patients asked their opinion. The examined wards were mainly acute wards, but also included elderly, learning disability and secure wards. 35% of patients claimed that they were ‘winded up’ by staff or nurses. In the same audit, patients and visitors were asked what they felt ‘triggered’ violence on the ward. Amongst the most common were: substance misuse: the use of alcohol, illegal drugs, or withdrawal from them; staff: (low) staff levels, skills, experience, but also attitudes (patronising), over custodial, interaction with patients, nature or absence of intervention; space and over-crowding: bed numbers, ward/unit layout, proximity of other people, lack of privacy; medication and treatment: side effects, compliance, changes to regimen; frustration: lack of activities, noise levels, being away from family and friends, lack of visitors; smoking: lack of cigarettes, overcrowded smoking areas, annoyance about smoking behaviour of others; excessive noise: radios, shouting people, squeaking doors, ringing door bells, noises made by others late at night; intimidation by other patients; theft; temperature. It is obvious that the same problems existed in the asylums in the 19th century: patronising staff, not enough staff, too many people, lack of privacy, too much noise, squeaking doors, ringing bells etc… Although the medication and treatment should be left to one side as that is not comparable. If all these are kept to a minimum by the layout of the building, the organisation of the asylum, and the training of the staff, it seems totally plausible to me to be able to keep violence to a minimum. The question about what triggers violence is particularly important if we acknowledge that no patient (or visitor, because they were also asked) puts it down to themselves (or the patients). Of course, people are not aware of the fact that a squeaking door should not irritate you that much that you should become violent, but in eradicating the squeaking door one takes away the cause of the violence in the first place which would be a lot harder if one were to try to take away the irritation at once. Conolly and the others of the non-restraint movement tried to diminish causes of irritation so much by achieving quietness, kind nurses, and low numbers of patients, that it can indeed become credible that non-restraint did work without medication. That is at least what the audit was partly concerned with as they did not ask the staff what triggered the violence but the patients and visitors.

Having seen the types of treatment doctors used in an attempt to cure and calm patients, and having seen the non-restraint policy, we should consider Bertha’s position. Non-restraint and moral management were not a hoax as it seems. It can be said that it is written about seriously in psychiatric magazines, and not least the Royal College of Psychiatrists does not see it as a hoax, but as a system that worked though not cured. Although we can make objections to some of its methods, we should acknowledge, in this context, that that was the best they could do with the knowledge and medication available to them. If there was such an emphasis on healthy wards, kind attendants and non-restraint (which apparently did work due to organisation and diminishing of the causes of irritation), even if it did not cure, is it then to be considered that Rochester did the best he could in confining his wife in the half dark for 10 years, 24 hours a day, and restraining her with a rope under the eyes of Wood, Briggs, Mason and Jane? In my view the non-restraint asylums were definitely better than the ones criticised by the Commisioners and Bethlem which chained people to the floor, although that was largely over by the time Brontë wrote Jane Eyre. Restraint in Bethlem had largely been abolished in the 1840s and was totally abandoned in the 1850s (source: Bethlem itself). What is better? To sit 24 hours a day in the same place with nothing to occupy you and maybe still have blisters applied, be leeched and even beaten, or to occasionally be made calm by (from a modern point of view unorthodox) treatment after which you sleep, become (temporarily) better and can get usefully occupied? Even from a modern point of view the non-restraint policy is just that slight bit better than the conventional way of handling lunatics, because it at least supplied them freedom. In the 19th century, from 1830 on, it was the best that was possible. Harriet Martineau’s article in The Lancet of June 1834 can be considered as a little too romantic in feel, but not as untrue. In that context it is obvious that Rochester did not care. He paid Grace Poole about the tenfold of Conolly’s attendants that were very well paid, in order to keep his wife a secret, not to give her good care.

The intriguing question still remains, however, which was the actual ‘retreat’ Brontë based the name ‘Grimsby Retreat’ on. The Guardian and the Rowntree organisation both claim it is the York Retreat, and Stanford University puts the same on its fact sheet for Jane Eyre and moral madness, basing its factsheet on Showalter (1985) and Sutherland (1997). Yet, there was another non-restraint asylum in Lincoln, the capital of Lincolnshire, the same county as Grimsby is in and 34 miles from there.

Bibliography:

Thomas Bewley, Madness to Mental Illness, A History of the Royal College of Psychiatrists, 2008, a publication of the RCPsych

Camilla Haw & Graeme Yorston, Thomas Prichard and the Non-Restraint movement at the Northampton Asylum, 2004 for the Psychiatric Bulletin

Camilla Haw, John Conolly and the treatment of mental illness in early Victorian England, 1989 for the Psychiatric Bulletin

The National Audit of Violence, 2003-2005, Royal College of Psychiatrists and Healthcare Commission.

Barry Edginton, The Well-Ordered Body: The Quest for Sanity through nineteenth-century Asylum Architecture, 1993, for the Canadian Society for the History of Medicine and the European Society for the History of Psychiatry

Patricia H. Allderidge, A cat, surpassing in beauty, and other therapeutic animals, 1991, for the Psychiatric Bulletin

Selden Harris Talcott, Compendium Mental Diseases and their Modern Treatment, 1901

Factsheet Jane Eyre and Moral Madness, Stanford University

Andrew Roberts, Mental Health History Timeline, for Middlesex University

On three of the BBC’s costume dramas and their genre: Jane Eyre 2006, Tess of the d’Urbervilles 2008 and Pride and Prejudice 1995

2009-03-05T11:08:00.000+01:00

A new entry… This time considering the new costume drama coming on BBC in the Autumn of this year: Emma.

Apparently the same writer who wrote the screen plays for Brontë’s Jane Eyre would be in charge of Emma’s script. Hardy’s Tess of the d’Urbervilles the last Autumn rama BBC one broadcast. I had a long discussion about the first and wrote a long letter to the BBC about the last (but received no reply yet). It seems to me that even the writer of Jane Eyre in 2006 mistook Rochester’s character. Beside that, in the beginning he was more rude than abrupt. In costume dramas it is important to be aware of the fact that there is a balance between being abrupt and plain rude! Rochester is direct and commandeering, but not rude. A (Victorian) gentleman would have known how to behave and would never have been so direct as Stephens played him in Jane and Rochester’s first scene. Ciaran Hinds in his Rochester made that distinction very well, better than Stephens. He was able to be abrupt without being rude. Like Elizabeth Bennet tells Mr Darcy at the end of Pride and Prejudice when they talk about the past: ‘… my behaviour to you was at least always bordering on the uncivil, and I never spoke to you without rather wishing to give you pain than not.’ Elizabeth’s behaviour towards Darcy in the beginning might indeed be called rather abrupt and not really positive, indeed intended to vex a little, but it is not rude. When the writer of Jane and Rochester’s second conversation in 2006 which starts with Rochester coming into the library and saying: ‘Come here,’ makes Rochester command Jane ‘sit’, and Pilot sits, it can be called funny, but it is not at all authentic! In Brontë’s original it even says in the beginning: ‘Let Miss Eyre be seated.’ A far cry from ‘sit’… Rochester, at that moment, is supposed to be alone, desolate, closed to any positive feeling (symbolised in his black horse Mesrour and the riding cloak). In that, he continues ‘as a statue would’ and does not take much notice of Jane, Mrs Fairfax or Adèle and in that is vexing to Jane as she is summoned but is not seemingly required somehow. Yet, he keeps up the form of a gentleman and softens every time. Ciaran Hinds managed that very well, and credit should be awarded to the writer for the dialogues, but the writer in 2006 made Rochester an arrogant rude man, not a somewhat unpleasant person like Jane calls him in 1997. Rochester should be charming, yet somewhat unpleasant. That is what he is and that is his charm: the duality between the arrogance and command and civility, particular to the Byronic hero
.
What really irritated me in the 2006 adaptation was the bed scene after the cancelled wedding. We discussed it on the forum and it was concluded that it was probably a mix of imagination on Jane’s part and what really happened, however after watching it again I cannot say that that is definitely the case as a memory triggered by the dragon fly is accurate. Jane would have imagined what happened on the bed, but Rochester would really have asked to go to France with him. That may be, and it is possible that that was intended, but it begs the question why the writer absolutely wanted to add that scene. Was it to please the public or was it to add another dimension to the story? For me it does not give an extra point of view. It does not reveal anything new that could not be revealed in another way. It only elaborated on the theme of Jane still being in love with Rochester. Of course, we need to note that the writer decided to end each episode with a cliff-hanger. So episode three ends with the wedding being cancelled and episode four, instead of opening with Rochester’s monologue or something in that sense, opens with Jane on the moors. Everything concerning what happened after the wedding is done in flashback, which could be right, but of course limits the view of the public as to what happened. I can’t consider this as a good decision on the writer’s part because it takes out a vital part of the book! Other than for example flashbacks about Lowood, Gateshead or even Morton, I don’t find a flashback of what happened after the cancelled wedding a good decision. A flashback on Lowood or Gateshead would be appropriate for me because those phases of Jane’s life belong to the ‘real past’, by which I mean: they either take place in the far past of Jane’s childhood or they belong to the phase before Rochester, which makes Jane an adult to some extent and changes her perception. In Morton, Jane still grows, but only in knowing what she wants and doing it, not in anything particular like knowledge, body or passion. She only needs to bring the three together. As most of Lowood and Gateshead are in the distant past of Jane’s childhood, and childhood memories are always coloured because our perception is not as a child what it is as an adult, it would be clear to viewers that the memories that haunt Jane about Lowood and Gateshead are coloured and important to her to some extent, but less important than what is shown in real time in the adaptation. A flashback is useful for additional information as it is short and adds something to the character itself in terms of perception (how the character thinks and what determines his/her actions), but as it is considered as thought of that particular character it does not serve as additional information about the character that the flashback features, only what that character is in the thoughts of another. Rochester’s monologue in Brontë’s original has not got the function of enlightening the reader about the situation or about Jane’s thinking, but has a crucial function in the reader’s perception of Rochester’s mindset and the opinion about him afterwards. If one tells that in a flashback prone to fantasy, it destroys the whole set-up of Brontë. In a sense the monologue can be seen as a monologue in Shakespeare, the last lament of someone who is already condemned or dying. After that the curtain comes down, and so does it on the scene of Rochester: he will be left by Jane. Telling that in a flashback is seriously reducing the dramatic effect of it. More appropriate might have been a flashback in Rochester’s mind about it, not in Jane’s mind. By putting it in Jane’s mind, the writer made the impression that Jane is still thinking about Rochester passionately while in the original Jane did not even allow herself to say she loved him. That feeling was featured in 1997, not in 2006. Admittedly one cannot control dreams, but this was a daydream. It can be ordered not to take place. Jane did think about Rochester still, even in the original, but with different feelings as proper sexual passion not allowed.
Putting the daydream in a bedroom context, even if that were down to imagination on Jane’s part which is not at all clear, confuses in my opinion the viewer and does not add. Of course it does comply with the modern viewer's desire for passion on the screen, but it is inappropriate if the times it plays in, the story and the function of that monologue are considered. The monologue was put into the BBC-version of ’83 with Timothy Dalton. Although it is extremely long and more appropriate for reading than for film or stage, it can be shortened, like in the version of A&E of 1997. Admittedly Rochester turns out quite violent there and says things that are not in the book and he takes Jane to the same tree where he proposed and asks her to say she doesn’t love him (classic!), but it highlights Rochester’s conviction of his own (bad) ways in a short space of time without explicit words. Jane tries to reason with him in the book, but doesn’t seem to get through. In 1997 Jane does not reason, but Rochester’s conduct speaks for itself and it must be clear to all viewers that no reasoning will ever get through at that moment. Jane does not reason in 2006, she voluntarily surrenders herself to his kisses. Jane also feels fear in 1997, like the viewers, at his violence. In the original, Jane does not feel fear for him because he is violent (or at least not that bad), but feels more fear for his dark side (and seducing powers that she refers to as standing between her and the sun as an eclipse). The 1997-version makes a very odd balance between Rochester’s lament, his vulnerability, force and dominance. The viewer who feels that he is a filthy liar sees him desperately trying to convince Jane to stay. How? By chucking her luggage over the balustrade and by stating that he wanted to go to prison for her (congratulations man, what a sacrifice). It is his total humiliation in a way. In the original the humiliation is not present so strongly, but when the curtain comes down, the reader feels a very odd pity and ‘serves you right’ sensation (a little the same as Jane who is torn between his need for help and her need for morality), which is also present in 1997, but not at all in 2006. In 1997 Jane tells him that she leaves for what they have, to keep that pure, and indeed that is what that feeling after the closing of the curtain is about: Rochester is no good, yet is pitiable, but pitiable like King Lear who brought his situation onto himself and cannot possibly be rewarded for his false views, not like Jane herself who is the real victim in the whole situation. In 1983 that feeling was certainly present, but there the monologue was put in in its entirety and turned out quite long. So shortening and enforcing is quite appropriate to awaken the same feelings. Reducing it to a bed-scene I find not only cheap, but also disregarding what that speech means to Rochester’s character. By making Jane lie on a bed with him and kiss him (which Jane did not allow herself in the original), the writer rather raised questions for modern viewers as to why Jane left him if she is then lying on her bed, alone, crying at her thoughts. Essentially it is clear to Jane what she has to do once she learns Rochester has a wife: leave him. There is no other way, because she will not be strong enough to stay there with him around. By making her cry on that bed in 2006, they made Jane a modern woman with modern morals who regrets leaving him. The original Jane would not have allowed herself to do so because it would have been improper to love a man who was married… This was discussed, again, in 1997 and the importance of marriage for her was emphasised when she says: ‘How can I lie with you if I know I am not your wife?’ Rochester answers that they can say she is just that abroad and who will know? Jane exclaims: ‘Me!’ and then goes on stating that that would eat away at her conscience until she would be no more than his mistress who he would resent being with. That is indeed what it is about: no marriage, no relationship. Although Jane finds it hard to leave she does so consequently. In 1997 the writer even made her reproach Rochester that he thought it was easy for her (necessarily Rochester implied that she was only out to get her hands on his money, which is truly low of him). The reproach of Jane is not in the original of course, but it expresses a feeling that the reader has when he reads Rochester’s speech: ‘why do you think you are the great victim in this? What about her? She thought she was going to marry today and just found out that was not the case and you dare to make yourself the victim?’ Making Jane cry on a bed does make a point as far as her sorrow is concerned, but it does not at all make Rochester what he should be. Much more to the point is 1997 Jane who stays stoic through the whole thing and has taken her decision, whatever he might say…

When watching Tess of the d’Urbervilles I decided to read along. Before they broadcasted the adaptation they made a documentary about Hardy’s work. It was a good documentary as far as the influence of Hardy’s life on his work was featured. Yet, Tess of the d’Urbervilles stands in the tradition of Naturalism: a peculiar genre that grew out of the Realism of Balzac and Dickens (to a certain extent), and which mainly focuses on the lives of normal people trying to struggle against their own nature. A nature that shapes society (exploitation), shapes religion (the church), laws and morals; all of which results in the worst endings: degradation, suicide, murder and death. None of this was mentioned and astonishingly enough, or not so, Tess was largely reduced to the tragic tale of a girl who was raped (however that is not explicitly stated by Hardy, although it can be argued). The nature-images were beautiful, that needs to be said, but sadly the way in which the machinery and the surroundings in the section after the leaving of Angel were portrayed, was not at all faithful to the original. It should be a phase of desolation, loneliness and desperation, where life is regulated by the pace of machinery/human nature. Like Milton’s hell (which Alec alludes to literally!). It is a desolate and cold situation similar in feeling as the fist meeting of Rochester and Jane in the cold in Jane Eyre. To make the mistake totally complete the writer decided to put Alec on a white horse! Admittedly it worked very well in the greyish décor and set, different than the section on the dairy farm (with sunny green hills and blue skies with white cows and colourful attire), but even then it is totally inappropriate to put Alec on a white horse as he is not the ‘lord and saviour’ on the white steed! He is the very person in the first place who is ultimately responsible for the failed marriage (although the mother also has a great role in the initial situation because she did not tell Tess about the possible dangers a gentleman could pose, of course out of a naïve wish/certainty to have her daughter marry Alec). By making Alec of a dark complexion, Hardy even made a statement, already before he made Alec do something bad. Dark characters were considered as bad and mysterious, they could better be avoided: Rochester (Jane Eyre), Alec (Tess of the d’Urbervilles), Brian de Bois-Guilbert (Ivanhoe). In a certain sense they were antitheses for the Dark Lady, already a stock character In Shakespeare where Lady MacBeth and Cleopatra will lead both their men to their downfall. Byron carried that theme further with his heroes and Brontë made her Byronic hero repent. Hardy made Alec do what he was meant to do in the Victorian mind: lead Tess to her downfall, and himself as well. Get Tess so far that she murders him and is hanged for it. Not that Hardy agrees with the law, but the end is naturalistically inevitable. Putting Alec on a white horse was totally out of context, both in a literary critical sense and a conventional sense. Even more ridiculous was the mistake of putting in a hymn that was only translated to English in 1953. The text of it worked very well indeed, but anachronism does not have a place in the costume drama genre.

The BBC realised that in 1995 when they filmed their famous adaptation of Pride and Prejudice. The lake scene which a TV critic on ITV recently said about: ‘Man steps out of lake and TV is never the same again,’ was actually planned to be a nude-scene, but Firth had a problem with it (according to the director). So someone suggested to have him wear shorts of some kind, but this was rejected on the mere ground that shorts were anachronistic because men did not wear underwear in the times of Austen (also not, by the way, in the times Jane Eyre plays). So instead they made Darcy dive into the water fully clothed which branded the man and its actor for ever as a sex-symbol (an image that still haunts Firth today). Nonetheless it highlights the concern in 1995 for absolute accuracy, which was not at all present in Jane Eyre 2006, where Rochester sleeps in breeches and an open shirt (a type of shirt that did not exist) and did not cover himself up when Jane was with him. The concern for accuracy in 1995, even in a literary critical context, was also seen in the very consequent portrayal of Darcy and Bingley. Because there was no real adequate description of either they had to make their own Bingley and Darcy and made them, as Austen intended, two opposites: one fair/light brown and one dark. Bingley on a white horse and Darcy on a black one. Although in the beginning of the original it is mentioned that Bingley rides over to Longbourn on a black horse it can be seen as a hint that he has some fault, which does not show in his person. Indeed, the man has one fault, worse for himself than his friends, but which will also affect Jane: he is too dependent on others’ judgment. In that, he is not an intentional ‘homme fatale’ or does not plot to bring Jane down, but will have the same effect, until Darcy confesses. In 1995 they made Darcy dark by analogy, I believe, to the works of the time like Ivanhoe which features the bad guy Brian de Bois-Guilbert as dark and Cedric the Saxon, the good guy, as fair like Ivanhoe himself. Furthermore, 1995’s Darcy through his pride brings Lydia into trouble, which he recognises himself. Elizabeth is portrayed maybe as a ‘femme fatale’ to a certain extent. She indeed brings Darcy to his downfall, but a downfall that is favourable and not fatal. In a sense ‘homme fatale’ and ‘femme fatale’ duel for supremacy over each other (and maybe themselves), a ‘duel’ that is also featured in the original of Austen: both need to acknowledge their own fault and need to consider the effect of their conduct on others by considering the other's behaviour; both need to be humbled by the other to be able to come together. So to a certain extent they each bring about the other’s downfall, though not in a negative way.

In the 1995 adaptation of Pride and Prejudice the writer also added scenes, but they were important and added to the story. They did not destroy anything Austen put in the original, nor did they raise any questions. The lake-scene seems to be part of a larger wash/baptism-motif the writer put in the adaptation (a theme that is also not alien to other works as Jane Eyre). The lake scene is not a mere excuse for sexual tension and does not stand alone. When Jane is ill at Netherfield and Darcy is slowly falling in love with Elizabeth, the latter’s mother comes to visit her daughter and gives a few vexing remarks about Darcy and his opinion on country people and life, but more importantly on gentlemanly behaviour and generosity. The scene after, we see Lizzy walk through the garden, see a Great Dane and play with it. At the same moment Darcy sits in his bath and his servant walks in with a jug of water to pour over him. At the moment Darcy steps out of his bath he walks to the window and watches Elizabeth playing with the dog. It is as if, just after the nasty remarks of Elizabeth’s mother, he wants to ‘wash off’ all the ‘sins’ so to say and has an urge to be more like the dog Elizabeth is playing with (a motif that also occurs in Jane Eyre with Pilot and which was largely known to a Victorian reading public by way of paintings of prince Albert and Victoria, the latter of whom was portrayed as his favourite dog Eos). The washing/baptism-motif reoccurs when Elizabeth has refused Darcy’s first proposal and he writes the letter. There again he looks outside the window and later washes himself. When Elizabeth is in Derbyshire and will visit Pemberley, we see Darcy fencing and then saying ‘I will conquer this.’ While Lizzy is being made aware by the housekeeper of his real character, and not the façade he puts up, partly probably because he is as shy as his sister (which is a good quality for a woman but not for a man, as portrayed in Bingley who is much more agreeable because of his lively manners), Darcy is returning home and approaching Pemberley and the lake, like Elizabeth at that same moment is in the process of approaching the real Fitzwilliam Darcy . At the same moment, the same second, that Elizabeth is admiring his portrait in the gallery with a more open mind to the man himself, Darcy is stripping off and swims in the lake. And when they finally meet each other on the lawn, totally unexpected, there is not only surprise, but also awkwardness, rebirth, and a totally different man as the music indicates when Lizzy looks at the painting. The same as in the original, yet even with a deeper meaning for Darcy himself. The revelation the reader gets in the original, both of Lizzy’s mistake and Darcy’s real character, is present for the viewer in that whole set-up. When we meet the sister Georgiana afterwards, it is suddenly clear what Darcy’s character is like for real, not what his façade is/was, Austen’s original alike.

The scene after features Darcy staring in the camera (to Elizabeth, who is playing). The song she sings is even appropriate as it is Voi Che Sapete from Mozart’s Le Nozze di Figaro (‘You who know’ from The Marriage of Figaro).

The text:

Voi che sapete che cosa è amor
donne, vedete s'io l'ho nel cor
Quello ch'io provo, vi ridiró
E per me nuovo, capir not so
Sento un affetto pien di desir,
ch'ora è diletto, ch'ora è martir!
Gelo, e poi sento l'alma avvampar
e in un momento torno a gelar;
ricerco un bene fuori di me,
non so ch'il tiene, non so cos'è.
Sospiro e gemo senza voler,
palpito e tremo senza saper.
Non trovo pace notte ne di,
ma pur mi piace languir così.

The translation:

You who know what love is,
Ladies, look if I have it in my heart.
What I feel, I will repeat to you
And (as it is) new to me, I cannot understand.
I feel an affection full of desire,
That now is a delight, that now is martyrdom!
I freeze and then I feel my soul burn
And in a moment I freeze again;
I seek a good outside of me,
I don’t know what it contains and I don’t know what it is.
I sigh and groan without wanting to,
I throb and tremble without knowing it.
I cannot find peace night or day
But it is even pleasure to me to languish like this.

Then the first verses are repeated. Bearing in mind that Elizabeth is now ending the song, and it is translated in English, we can suppose that the writer put it in knowing what it said! If we see the staring of Darcy in that context, it is very very appropriate what Lizzy is singing there and we can also totally comprehend what Darcy is thinking, and has felt for the last months! Indeed, the poor man froze and then had his soul burn, sighed and shook at the sight of her and then he walks around half-naked (to the standards then) in his grounds and meets the woman of his life, thus almost literally revealing himself to her (as in the aria); as in the aria, he wishes Lizzy and the viewer to judge by his behaviour and the description of his feelings whether he loves. It is as if the writer of the adaptation even took the verses ‘Ricerco un bene fuori di me, non so ch’il tiene, non so cos’è’ literally for Darcy as he literally looks outside the window for solace.

The writer took the notion that the banks of the stream at Pemberley were ‘neither formal nor falsely adorned’ and the allegorical aspect of that passage in the original (as to Darcy’s real person), to the extreme, associating Darcy through the whole adaptation with water and embedding him in nature. The free, vast and healing nature of the pre-Victorian era and Enlightenment was taken as a theme of redemption that Darcy must address for himself until he can unite with his Elizabeth who loves nature and who does not conceal herself behind a good/bad façade (unlike Bingley’s sisters). Darcy in the original was not really deeply touched upon until the end and they needed to change that because otherwise the adaptation would have ended up with a long tale about what happened before which is not good for an interesting film. Like the monologue of Rochester that passage of Pride and Prejudice is also more suited for reading than stage/film. Yet, this writer, in opposition to the writers of Tess and Jane Eyre got through to Darcy and managed to write his words, and his part bringing pride, conceit, concern for society rules, civility, rebellion and shyness together in a curious combination that is only revealed after but is present from the start in both the original and the adaptation. The writer did not make Darcy rude for the viewer, but made him shy. Something that can be mistaken for pride by some, who will obviously have to change their opinion along with Lizzy in the end. What is certainly to be noted, is that in the whole adaptation, even after the proposal, there is no kissing, touching hands, whatever. Only in the very last minute does the adaptation end with a very very very prudish kiss. This totally according to the times of Austen. In Austen there is no place for fleshly passion, so it should not be in the adaptation. The same goes for most Victorian work. And so in making an adaptation one should be careful with that kind of thing. The beauty of Austen lies not in passion of any kind, it lies in its wording and its quietly moving along of life with a revelation of truth in the end. The beauty of Jane Eyre lies in its deepness and allusion, also not in its fleshy passion of which there is very little, though some. Passion has its place in Jane Eyre, but it is not exaggerated. Jane does not even want to kiss Rochester after the cancelled wedding. Why did the writer of the adaptation in 2006 disregard this? In 1997, Rochester tries to kiss Jane and tries to make her consent to be his mistress by emphasising their union, but Jane refuses. Yet in 2006 the writer put them on a bed. It could be down to fantasy on Jane’s part, but even then it is raising confusion in the minds of viewers, because it is not totally clear why then she walked away… In costume drama and adapting books to stage or film it is of great importance that the writer adheres to the original and does not put words or thoughts in the character that are not their own. In 2006, the writer of Jane’s thoughts put certain fantasies in her head (if those flashbacks were imagination) or made Rochester this tender and soft man (which would even be a greater mistake). There is a total absence of pity, vulnerability, anger, desperation and guilt in the impression he gives to the viewer. Even if it was down to the fantasy of Jane, the writer was wrong in wanting to put those thoughts in Jane’s head, because they give a totally different view on Rochester than the reader gets when he reads the original. Furthermore it is totally wrong, from a literary critical point of view, to speculate on the thoughts of characters certainly if that affects the general impression of that particular character. In the case of Darcy’s transformation and the water-motif connected with Voi che sapete it is not speculating on Darcy’s thoughts, but it is rather elaborating on the theme of his transformation, which only becomes clear in the end of the original, but which they chose to run through the whole adaptation, probably because a ranting about what happened ‘while this and while that’ would have taken up the whole of episode 6 without actual interesting or funny bit. Viewers would have flicked away. The writer, in running the transformation of Darcy from the beginning, did not change the original character Mr Darcy, nor the impression he gives to the reader/viewer, but rather made him a full character from the start: unlike in the original, Darcy is not reduced to one-liners and a very brief description. Naturally not, when someone is around he necessarily gives an impression (which people can mistake and which is obviously the case) and a character on film has to be assigned something to do that is in accordance with its personality whereas in a book, it can be mentioned what it does or not when it is around. In the original Darcy is not mentioned sometimes, but he grows more affectionate towards Lizzy, however he stays his quiet self. It is possible in a book to leave a character for what it is and then take it out of oblivion and make it say something puzzling, or assigning to it a look or a smile that speaks a great deal or even mention casually that ‘a few minutes before’ this or that happened. On film, it is a little harder: as the character is around, it needs to have a personality and needs to act: look, drink tea, smile, talk, read, etc. That all according to its particular personality. Darcy is enigmatic as he is a very quiet man, probably (extremely) shy and intelligent. He does not like to blow his top, resents conversation for conversation’s sake and clearly wants substance rather than beauty in a woman (naturally as he could not possibly have an intelligent conversation with an ‘accomplished lady’ as Caroline and would probably not last an hour with her alone in a room… And after all, beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Such is implied at least when Darcy first finds Lizzy only tolerable, and then considers her, unlike the Bingleys, one of the handsomest women of his acqainance). When Darcy is there he needs to do something, yet not be too sociable, but grow visibly more affectionate towards Lizzy in a way that is clear to viewers, but not to her. On the other hand his first proposal should still be a big surprise and Darcy mustn’t overdo it on the screen; he needs to puzzle the viewer sufficiently, yet not leave any doubt on his growing affection. The adaptation of 1995 did that very well in taking shots of Darcy staring at Lizzy through the crowds. The writer also made him more human from the start by making him walk to the window at crucial moments (when the mother is visiting and at the end when he visits Longbourn with Bingley), linking it somehow with emotional turmoil as time goes on; addressing the healing power of nature as it were, common to the Enlightenment. But not only that: at the first assembly, just after Bingley urged Darcy to dance and Darcy made the remark that Elizabeth is only tolerable in her looks, where the book then stops, the camera continues filming Darcy, seeing Lizzy pass him and go to Charlotte. He looks at them and sees them laugh. This still happens a few times, and it raises the impression that he is concerned with what people think of him. Indeed, a transformation starts with doubt… At the second assembly, Darcy’s look is followed, and where does the camera stop? At Lizzy who is talking with Forster and then the camera moves back to Darcy’s eye. When later Sir William introduces Darcy to Lizzy and she walks away after refusing Darcy’s offer of dancing (which is a little different than in the original and is to be considered rather as an insult, it addresses the point that Lizzy wants to throw Darcy’s insult at her beauty back to him), Darcy has already the peculiar smile on his face (he also has when at Pemberley during Voi Che Sapete, and numerous occasions before that) where a second before he was still all sternness. When Lizzy walks down to Netherfield to attend to Jane and surprises Darcy on the lawn, the same smile is there again. Obviously Lizzy does not observe it, but the viewer is certainly convinced. It proves a definite intention in the writer of the adaptation to have Darcy express himself not with words, because the man is shy, but with facial expressions that are mistaken by Lizzy in the original. When Bingley’s sisters are gossiping about her petticoat and the mud on it at the table, Darcy looks out of the window. There already he is addressing nature for help. After his remark about her fine eyes and his smile, he turns back to the window and leaves the rest to gossip. When they go on about the inferiority of the Bennets’ connections, and Bingley challenges that, Darcy turns back in anger and leaves the window saying that his sisters have a material point in that the size of the Bennet sisters’ (non-existent) fortunes lowers their chances to a good marriage, thus turning away from his own nature which loves Lizzy already, angry at the restraint of society which turns man away from his deeper human nature. After that Elizabeth walks in and there is the smile again. Looking at nature Darcy tries to take all society’s rules away, but cannot succeed and cannot conquer himself, in a way. That the writer decided to take a shot of Darcy when Lizzy walks in is vital for Darcy’s character portrayal. For the washing scenes and heaing power of nature (the bath, the face washing after the letter, the lake, but also his ride in Rosings Park) the adaptation even had its own music, as for his pride/restraint by society’s rules (the theme of Lady Catherine de Bourgh) which regularly features during the reading of his letter after his first proposal. The adaptation added scenes for him alone like the bath, which make him a full character rather than the one Austen wrote into her original (a natural consequence of free indirect speech). When Darcy returns from the lake, his white horse, and not his black one (!), walks beside him and we see him walk amidst nature, stripped down to a bare minimum of clothes towards the same outside of Pemberley (or is it the society in which he lives?), but a new man. Indeed, he addresses Elizabeth in much the same way: inquires after the health of her parents, the health of her sisters (twice) and then excuses himself awkwardly. The musical theme of washing continues however, but now in a more romantic manner and the same theme returns when he proposes for a second time. When he then returns afterwards with Bingley to Longbourn, he still sits on his dark horse, and returns to his quiet self, but now of course his inside is different. Mrs Bennet still does not see that (like Lizzy in the beginning), but like in the original Elizabeth is now convinced of another cause of his quietness, as are the viewers and readers at that moment. That adaptation fully understood its characters and the writer took great care in portraying them, even in the musical background and the casting they were extremely consequent.

In 2006, Jane Eyre was interpreted, but not in a way that offered answers to questions, like the 1995 adaptation of Pride and Prejudice offered answers to Darcy from in the beginning. The adaptation of Jane Eyre totally mistook and ignored Rochester’s darkness and desolateness and instead made him a pitiable man in slightly feminist way. As illustrated in my blog on the treatment of Bertha, he should not be pitied. Not at least for his lying, but rather for his situation; for the handling of it he should rather be blamed. As in 1997, Jane has to leave, leaving him in anguish but also angry. Samantha Morton as Jane even reproached him that he thought it was easy for her… And indeed, that is what a reader thinks if he is not carried away by preconceptions about the good treatment of his wife. But that is of course something deeply rooted into the modern mind. The more modern versions do not hesitate to make the confinement of Bertha softer than it originally was. The 1983 version makes it pretty grim, but the 1944 version with Orson Welles makes it grim indeed, however after that Rochester returns somehow to the pitiable. What should rather happen is that the bad impression Rochester took when Bertha was revealed, sticks and does not affect his lament whatsoever because Jane’s and the reader’s decision is already taken. Only Zefirelli decided to make a more poetic version of Jane Eyre, but was saddled with a rather passionless Rochester which is a total shame because in itself the screen play was very poetic and proved to have great possibilities.

After having made a poetic adaptation of Pride and Prejudice, an attempt that made its impression on scholars, readers and filmmakers alike, it is puzzling why possibly the BBC would prefer to go back to shoddy interpretations that are too modern in language, do not take on board any of the original’s allusions and above all even feature mistakes against genre, characterisation and historic accuracy. Pride and Prejudice's original was of course low on allusions, and in that it was easy. However, the writer did acknowledge the one allegory that was present in the river at Pemberley and took it to the full. In 1995 they managed to put down such an effort of accuracy and poetry that no-one can do better. Now the BBC have gone down to the level of interpretations that do not make sense and are far from poetic. Sometimes even reducing all of the work of the writer (who does make an effort in putting it in context, whether unconsciously or consciously) to nothing. A work of a writer, in adapting it, should not be made better as such, but only made clear to viewers, depending on how the viewer should see the story. In that the writer in 1995 exaggerated the comedy of Mrs Bennet’s conduct and added scenes for Darcy, but it does not take anything away from the original work of Austen, only attempts to help the viewer appreciate it better than they did the other versions (which were a lot by then!). The writer of Tess (2008) did not really know what the allusions to nature and hell in Hardy’s work were about and made a few crucial changes that he/she would not have made, had he/she known what Naturalism is. She made the father ill from the beginning and then made him die. In the original the mother was ill but the father died unexpectedly from a heart attack. Of course the effect is the same (in both cases the father ends up dead), but the naturalistic effect of total surprise and fate that strikes at a very bad moment indeed, is not present. If the writer had known what Naturalism is, he/she would have realised the importance of the illness of the mother and the unexpected death of the father; he/she would have realised that the reader's feelings are more affected when the father dies unexpectedly than when he doesn't. In Naturalism the bad expected, but the worse happens. The writer ignored it and so destroyed Hardy’s set-up. The drama not only had anachronistic features in it (the hymn of 1953, only about 60 years after Tess was published!), but it also made great mistakes in putting Alec on a white horse and in making Angel break into the mansion at the end. The writer clearly did not realise what Hardy did when he left the windows of the mansion open when he wrote the original! That is namely a reason for Angel not breaking in and so for Angel not being liable for incarceration and adhering to his fair complexion which is a sign of honesty and openness in 19th century literature. The open windows are essentially the reason why the police does not arrest Angel. As they were left open, Angel just entered, did not steel or break anything and therefore there was no break-in. Admittedly this is not the case anymore now, but in the days Hardy wrote Tess this was the law: a break-in only took place if there was a forceful entry (breaking of a window, forcing of a lock, the opening of an unlocked door was not considered trespassing astonishingly enough) and if an act of felony was committed (vandalism, steeling, or any such thing). By making Angel break a window in the adaptation, the writer made him liable and punishable for burglary and thus raised questions (again) in the viewer's mind. The most important thing is that the writer in having Tess say ‘I am already in hell,’ alludes to something that happened earlier but clearly did not see the great significance of… Just before the father dies Tess works on the field, in the cold, alone and in the dark with burning heaps of weeds around. As if this does not call up the image of hell in each of us. Indeed, a little later Alec disguises himself (as Satan in Paradise Lost), sneaks up on her, and makes Tess another offer to become his mistress. She sends him away but will be forced to consent when the father passes away. Hardy even puts verses of Paradise Lost in that passage! Yet the writer of the adaptation did not address this and just made a burning heap in the foreground of the picture and then later alluded to it seemingly without knowing why… It is indeed peculiar that Tess comes in front of the camera like a spirit from the afterlife: in a long black dress and pale as a ghost… The readers of the original do know what is happening (or should be expected to be aware of it), but I cannot possibly see that viewers at all got what was going on. As was the problem with the fairy nature of Jane in Jane Eyre. The whole of the moon-motif, the fairy-motif that was connected with that, all the allusions to Shakespeare, Paradise Lost (an image of hell which Rochester’s white and red rococo boudoir should address, but which image was reduced to gothic and dark in the adaptation), The Pilgrim’s Progress, the religious motif on the whole and above all fire and water that come together were totally absent or alluded to but not carried by any symbolic images. The only thing that was addressed in Jane Eyre in 2006 was the gothic theme of Bluebeard (although the closet with the 'dead' wives was not at all grim enough) and The Beauty and the Beast. It was carried on until the end, but put Ferndean rather in the context of the enchanted castle at the start of The Beauty and the Beast, rather than making it the approaching of the prince. The wood around Ferndean can rather be considered as the wood around the castle of Sleeping Beauty or the transformation of the Beast into prince. Thus it should not be gloomy and scary, but it should call up the idea of quietness, seclusion with a positive edge. Jane then as the prince who approaches his true love and who is let through the brier in the Grimms' version... Instead the gothic theme Bertha was too much emphasised by the red scarf flying from the widow continually and thus destroyed the exploding surprise of married Rochester in the end.

If one wants to adapt a book for the screen or stage one has a responsibility, a heavy responsibility: to bring across the original idea of the writer to the viewer, who is not reading that book. The writer of an adaptation should not put wrong thoughts into the viewer’s mind. If he does that, the adaptation is not an adaptation but a creation of the writer based on that book like The Count of Monte Cristo of 2002. It is obvious that also playwrights put in allusions towards philosophy and other works (whether theatrical or not) and it is clear that good films do that as well. Yet it seems that the BBC has slid down to the cheap Hollywood format which adapts without thinking of or regard for neither genre, nor literary accuracy, nor historical accuracy. The role of the writer of the adaptation is not anymore one of responsibility, but has become one of creativity which is not appropriate as the creative process has already taken place when the original was written. The only thing that should happen is adapting that creative result of the original writer to another medium. That does not include far-reaching interpretation as such, but rather care, cautiousness and foremost a knowledge of the genre and themes at the times the work was published/plays. In 1995 the writer took on board, not the seeming restraint of Regency England, but the Enlightenment philosophy which went back to nature for solace. To add to that he took on board colours, music and common themes in literature (and later necessarily film): contrast between Darcy and Bingley (even carried on the sisters), white dresses for the Bennets to declare their innocence and rather dark clothing for Darcy but light for his sister, rich fabrics for the Bingleys and rather simpler ones for the Bennets, the music the characters played was appropriate and was played on a real pianoforte and not on a piano (which is a decided difference!). All that was lightly present in Austen but the writer in 1995 made it a theme and displayed great skill and knowledge. The BBC displayed equally great skill in the hiring of their experts and thus put Austen’s work in a contemporary context. Something I cannot see in their more recent adaptations…

I call upon the BBC to repeat their great skill and effort of 1995. Their adaptation of Pride and Prejudice was almost perfect and is considered to become ‘the definitive’ adaptation because no-one seems to be able to do better. Jane Austen was a woman of her time and so should her characters be viewed. By putting an adaptation in a wider contemporary philosophical, societal and historical context a far better and more consistent result is reached than when interpreted in a modern way and ‘updated’. I only hope sincerely that the BBC decided not to go along with modern feminist views of Austen which are totally out of place in my opinion. In the plot of Emma (and I haven’t read it yet, but only seen an adaptation of it dating from ’96 with Samantha Morton in the role of Harriet Smith, years ago, and read the summary on Wikipedia) there seem to be great possibilities for comedy, but also great poetic possibilities, like in Pride and Prejudice. Austen’s comedy is to a certain extent similar to Shakespeare’s comedy: it is not slapstick, it is humour with a serious edge… If the writer this time got the genre and its tradition, studied the work, its times and did his best, I am sure we will get quality. If on the other hand the writer was again sluggish, we will get mediocre TV-drama worth watching once. Let’s hope it is the first.

Jane Eyre, Rochester and the treatment of Bertha, a considerate view

2009-02-15T21:16:00.000+01:00

Hello, here I am again!

I thought I’d write something more because it is so long ago… I have been heavily discussing Jane Eyre on a literature forum lately. It is amazing what ideas people have about that book! Anti-religious, Rochester is a saint, feminist, …

Of course it stays a very very nice and pleasing story, but don’t be fooled by your first swooning impression of Rochester. It is puzzling how people can fall in love with him (including me!) because the man has had mistresses, is a liar, bigamist and locks up his wife in the attic in an attempt to forget her. This can all be excused, because the man was stuck in a marriage with a mad woman, and on top of that before she was mad she wasn’t compatible with him. Sad really, and probably the case in lots of marriages (Mr Hurst and Mrs Hurst of Pride and Prejudice, Mr and Mrs John Dashwood of Sense and Sensibility (although she is clever at manipulating him, as all women are, I expect :D) amongst others). Although he chose to marry her (with a little encouragement from his father), blinded by her beauty, he later hates her and wants to forget her, locking her up in the third story of his mansion in a room without a window.

Brontë wrote about the room that it had no windows, a lamp hanging from the ceiling by a chain and a fire place. Not much was said about it, because then the ‘lunatic’ is described in an animal way. It is shocking, and Brontë was criticised for the image she sketched of the ‘lunatic’ (believe it or not!), because pity was the main thing in those days one should have for lunatics because they were unfortunate people who were ill in the head. Believe it or not lunatics were pitied. It is a far cry from the prejudice of chaining them to the wall as a standard ‘treatment’. Brontë faced her critics and uttered that she also thought pity in order, but ‘wanted to make horror too predominant’. Very strange, wanting to make it horrifying yet pitiable. She attributed the madness of Bertha to ‘moral madness’, a type of madness occurring because of deploring moral conduct (very strange concept we now would not dare to think of, but nonetheless Bertha had it and we must face that truth). When she is compared to Messalina, it implies an unchaste way of living, committing adultery let’s say. (Rochester must have been ashamed). Still, Brontë found that she should be pitied, but did not put that in her scene, or did she anyway?

The debate about compassionate or evil Rochester (the evils which are in the minority) seems to revolve around one issue: the confinement of Bertha his wife. People seem to have the prejudice that mad people in the 19th century were badly treated, chained and left to rot in asylums untreated. Nothing is less true. At least, the Victorian tried to treat their lunatics although their knowledge was very limited. Nonetheless, they did have ‘therapies’. They believed in the wholesome nature of church service (a fact which we would not even think of, but which was serious to them), occupational therapy (men used to have to maintain the gardens, do the odd jobs, and women did women tasks: seaming, washing, making beds and that kind of thing), the wholesome effect of good food and hygiene was also very important. Admittedly, it seems not very effective, and it was probably not, but it resulted in asylums for the mad becoming much nicer with airy corridors, good food, good beds, nice gardens, recreation, large windows, clean and non-restraint. A far cry from Bedlam Hospital in London (or Bethlem as it was called normally) (which everyone seems to think was the standard care in those days) where lunatics were chained to the wall until the 1810s, sleeping on straw, where there was no cleanliness, no recreation, no gardens for wholesome walks and where at a certain moment a part of the building was in such a state it was not habitable. It even had a bad reputation in 1800 already (!) when there was a man who decided to open a private asylum and advertised for good food of the kind that was not allowed in Bedlam Hospital. Now of course, the government has to set the standard in care and whatever it offers in general, but back then government institutions were not at all preoccupied with ‘setting the standard’ and people had to fend for themselves. Just think about social security, medical care, etc. There was even one man who told Queen Victoria, ‘why don’t we leave the poor to themselves?’ they are happy like that. Yeah, right, but that was the idea at the time. Still, for the unfortunate lunatics, and certainly for the reasonably rich ones there was better available than what Rochester offered Bertha, although It was of course shameful to be in an asylum or to have a family member in it. Mary Lamb, a famous 18th century case, who murdered her mother in a fit of rage was acquitted in court because of insanity and treatment was tried. Of course that did not go very well and subsequent admissions in private asylums followed, but not in Bedlam. Her brother paid £50 in those days (1796), which would amount in 1836 (count back from when Jane Eyre is started by the author, based on the publication year 1847) to the equivalent of £57 if we take the average earnings index, or even £49 if we use the retail price index, £55 if the 50 is just indexed. Rochester wanted to pay £200 for Grace Poole, an amount that was 6 times what Jane earned as a governess and that, according to the average earnings of the time was an equivalent of £2000 per month… So £200, what would that be, about £12,000? Astronomical. Yet Mary Lamb, in reality and about 40 years prior to when Jane Eyre plays, had also a private nurse and room, but also gardens, occupational therapy and good food and hygiene for a quarter of that…

Now we consider the reality of Bertha’s confinement: a windowless room, one lamp hanging from the ceiling by a chain, a fireplace. One should picture it: always in the dark (no window = no daylight), and permanently the glow of a fire. Then we should consider the ‘lamp’ and it needs some consideration: in 1836 we are still In the times before the petroleum/kerosene lamp that was manufactured on a grand scale from 1853, hence no mention of anything but candles in the book. Admittedly, there were whale oil lamps available but they were expensive and I can imagine dangerous if Bertha deliberately wanted to tip it over and set fire to the place. Lamps like that also stank and smoked an awful lot, not ideal for a room, permanently shut. So we can presume that it was candles that were in the lamp, hence also the fact that Bertha can light Rochester’s bed with one… The light of one candle is nothing. It is not comparable to the 40Watt lamps we have now! With the light of one candle one can barely see his hand for his eyes, let alone do something like reading, sewing or anything similar (yet people did that in those days…). We can of course say that there were several candles in the lamp, but still it would not amount to a serious amount that would seriously light the room up like 10 or 20 (like Rochester must have had in his dining room for example), because Jane does not talk of a ‘chandelier’ but a ‘lamp’. On top of that candles were expensive, and big chandeliers were not so much lit, only on special occasions. So we can assume that the lamp was a kind of ‘lantern’ with one or maybe more candles in it, but certainly not a lot, as that would have been too expensive for at least 12 hours every day. It also needs to be said, concerning candles, that working hours of servants were sometimes regulated to the amount of daylight, and consequently the amount of candles they had to use during their working day. During winter it must certainly have been expensive and so working days became shorter to try to save on the candles (source ITV documentary). Given that suicide numbers in the northern parts of Scandinavia are substantial in winter because of the lack of daylight, it is very strange that people still think that Rochester is being kind by shutting his wife in permanent dusk in one room for 15 years without once having been out of it… I would almost say: she would have been better in Bedlam Hospital where she might have been shut in a room, but where she could at least have seen the daylight… But there was a lot better available, for the rich at least. In 1834, there was an author Martineau who wrote about Hanwel Lunatic Asylum: ‘Yet it is the ignorant, gin-drinking pauper whom we now see entertained with constant employment, and governed by a look or a sign, while the educated gentleman and accomplished lady are left helpless, to be preyed upon by diseased thoughts, and consigned to strait- waistcoats and bonds ! This is barbarity, this is iniquity, whatever may be done for them besides. Let their secret be ever so carefully kept, let their physicians have their forty or fifty guineas a week, every week of the year, let heaven be wearied with prayers and tears on their behalf, they are each still as oppressed and injured beings as any wretch for whose sake the responsible shall be brought into judgment. There is far more truth and reason in the perpetual complaints of such sufferers.’ It is amazing that ten years prior to the publication of Jane Eyre already there were better places than what Rochester considered as ok! There have been people who argued that he subjected his wife rather to the old-fashioned way of dealing with lunatics: incurable, lock up and left to rot. Yet the popular reader does not seem to take notice.

Essentially, the horror and pity Brontë wanted to express are there, but not where they are expected. The horror does not conceal itself in Bertha the lunatic, nor does the pity conceal itself in her state of insanity. The horror Brontë wanted she expressed in the fight Rochester has with his wife and in the state of her confinement, and the pity is induced by the state of her confinement. Not the other way round. Of course, after that Rochester makes himself the big victim, but is blaming everyone else but oneself not a want of education (Epictetus)? King Lear blamed everyone, but is he innocent? Yet, both are pitiable but in their own deluded way.

People come up with all kinds of arguments to allow for a benevolent Rochester, but the ironical thing is that even the literary allusions are bad for him: King Lear (Off ye lendings), Paradise Lost (the kingly crown in one of the water colours), Manfred/Cain (both Bryon’s and narcissistic to the very core) and not least Byron himself who happens to even have the same breed of dog as Rochester (Newfoundland) and the same kind of name (Boatswain and Pilot, both functions on a ship, the first one on deck, the second the person at the rudder (conveniently)), even (controversially) demonology (the name Edward Fairfax) and an allusion to Ivanhoe (the revenge on Brian de Bois-Guilbert that carries a lot of similarity with the fire that destroys Thornfield) . It seems that Brontë had fun in portraying Rochester in a logical and superficially good way and putting bad allusions in so that superficial readers would be seduced, much like Milton who planned to have his readers seduced by Satan, but planned to make them more faithful. Yet it seems that most popular readers would go with Satan and would think that King Lear is a poor old man, wronged by his daughters and only just to Cordelia…

Bibliography:

Charlotte Brontë and her Circle, Clement K. Shorter, Hodder and Stoughton, 1896

Light Fittings in Georgian and Early Victorian Interiors, Jonathan Taylor, http://www.buildingconservation.com/articles/light98/light98.htm

The Hanwell Lunatic Asylum, Harriet Martineau, Tait’s Edinburgh Magazine, June 1834, http://www.mdx.ac.uk/WWW/STUDY/xmad1834.htm

Jane Eyre and Insanity, http://www.stanford.edu/~steener/su02/english132/MoralMadness.htm

Milton’s God, Cordelia Zukerman and Thomas H Luxon, http://www.dartmouth.edu/~milton/reading_room/pl/intro/index.shtml

A first entry...

2009-01-15T21:12:00.000+01:00

Now, this is my frist entry and I am new to this so I'll probably make this a short one, but if it becoms long and boring, please give me another chance...

I am a Belgian. For the people who don't know where it is (and that is a few!): it is the country with Brussels in it and the chocolate-country. I normally speak Dutch (Flemish as some of you might know it, but that actually doesn't exist. It is only a dialect of Dutch, which others might wish it wasn't), but as you see I also speak excellent English as a somehow strayed into a marriage with an Englishman. I was obliged to learn French as well and German, so I'm a little polyglot. 2008 was a year of changes as I moved to Germany with my husband who got a job at the European Institutions in Luxemburg. We decided on Germany, the Mosel-area bcause housing was cheap and so we live in one of the most beautiful regions of that country where tourists flock every year

My hobbies are pretty boring I'm afraid, as I am quite a loner, but not less interesting I might say. They include folk dancing/music (which has been suspended for now because although I live in this folk-music and -dancing country there doesn't seem to be a folkdancing group in this area...), reading (I looooooooooooove literature and thinking about it. It irritates my husband exceedingly because he can't stop me talking about it), politics and socio-economic issues. I am quite a thinker so I'll try to use this as my outlet (or Auspuff/exhaust pipe like they say in German). Maybe I might try a text in French, Dutch or German some time, but I can't vouch for the quality of that French or German...

I will try to put my thoughts on matters on paper here. Whether politics, literary observations, frustration or fait-divers, I'll try to make it fun.

I will great you now and will leave you all most sincerely to have a good night or evening, what you prefer.