THE OPEN ROAD

peace, love, happiness & understanding

 

August 3, 2023

 

VISIONS OF UTOPIA & PARADISE

 

To create around ourselves the kind of world that we wish to live in–isn’t that the most important project of our lives?

 

–from Alchemy of Snowness by the Russian clown, Slava Polunin

 

GONZALO

Had I plantation of this isle, my lord—

ANTONIO

He’d sow ’t with nettle seed.

SEBASTIAN  Or docks, or mallows.

GONZALO

And were the king on ’t, what would I do?

SEBASTIAN  Scape being drunk, for want of wine.

GONZALO

I’ th’ commonwealth I would by contraries

Execute all things, for no kind of traffic

Would I admit; no name of magistrate;

Letters should not be known; riches, poverty,

And use of service, none; contract, succession,

Bourn, bound of land, tilth, vineyard, none;

No use of metal, corn, or wine, or oil;

No occupation; all men idle, all,

And women too, but innocent and pure;

No sovereignty—

SEBASTIAN  Yet he would be king on ’t.

ANTONIO  The latter end of his commonwealth forgets

the beginning.

GONZALO

All things in common nature should produce

Without sweat or endeavor; treason, felony,

Sword, pike, knife, gun, or need of any engine

Would I not have; but nature should bring forth

Of its own kind all foison, all abundance,

To feed my innocent people.

SEBASTIAN  No marrying ’mong his subjects?

ANTONIO  None, man, all idle: whores and knaves.

GONZALO

I would with such perfection govern, sir,

T’ excel the Golden Age.

SEBASTIAN  ’Save his Majesty!

ANTONIO

Long live Gonzalo!

 

—from The Tempest by William Shakespeare, Act 2, scene 1

 

Here’s an excerpt from Magdalena Cieślak’s interview with Stratis Panourios about a production of Shakespeare’s The Tempest, which he directed at Korydallos prison in Athens:

 

MC:  One of the central characters in your production is Gonzalo. Can you explain why this particular character is of such importance for your reading of the play? In what way are his ideas of a utopian state crucial for the social role of the project? 

 

SP:  Gonzalo, as Shakespeare mentions him in the list of characters, is an honest old advisor from Naples, and I see him the same way. Although he was appointed to dispose of Prospero and Miranda at sea, he actually helped them survive, giving them water, food, clothes and books that Prospero considered important….He is a positive thinker, who believes in the will of Heaven….

 

The participants are baptized again through the performance. For the duration of the  rehearsals and their presence on stage, they are reborn. This is particularly visible in the participant who plays Gonzalo, as he becomes a different person, even if just for a few months. The inmates call him Gonzalo inside the prison. And during his famous monologue, when he says “And were the king of it, what would I do?”, he becomes a king, president or prime minister of the country. After this  monologue he cannot be himself. He acquires respect and prestige, even if this is related to a theatrical monologue.

 

He is also given the opportunity to speak on behalf of all the prisoners—to say that he imagines their own world, outside the prison. A world that is “upside down” or “opposite” to today’s world. In the monologue, Gonzalo says: “I’ th’ commonwealth I would by contraries / Execute all things.” In our rehearsals we pondered on whether this world should be the norm and not the other way around….This verse opened a whole world to us. 

 

Through extensive discussions during rehearsals we achieved a connection between the world of Gonzalo and Platonic ideals. Since the staging of our play not only involved rehearsals but also a lot of research, one of the participants took the initiative to guide us with a lecture, making an introduction to Plato’s work Politeia [The Republic]. As a modern Socrates, a prisoner, he spoke to us about the importance of justice and how much happier a righteous person is from an unjust one. He spoke to us about the definition of justice, the structure of society, property and privacy, and philosopher-kings; he spoke about Plato’s Allegory of the Cave and the importance of the truth for different regimes; and about art, utopias and dystopias. Our room was transformed into the “Gallipoli” of the book and all of us into philosopher-kings. We could talk for hours and hours about the issues in Plato’s Politeia, so we decided for the time being that maybe one of our future performances would have the theme of Politeia, where we could all study it thoroughly.

 

As reference books and texts on the ideal state, we studied Thomas Moore’s Utopia, written in 1516, presenting a story taking place on a strange island somewhere in the South Atlantic Ocean, off the coast of South America. We could not help but associate Shakespeare with the reading of this book, making sure that the decision to link the prison to Prospero’s Island was the right one. This reading was followed by references to the Biblical Garden in Eden, Sir Philip Sydney’s Arcadia (1580), a summary of Michel de Montaigne’s Of Cannibals (1580). We ended our study with texts written by the participants on the subject of their own vision of an ideal state. The adaptation of Gonzalo’s monologue in our show was based on the texts by the participants.

 

The  participant who plays Gonzalo now had the opportunity to talk about his ideal state, a world without crime and prisons. Until then, his voice was heard only in his apology in court, while now his monologue was addressed to the spectators. And the spectators are by no means jurors. On the edge of the stage, he was free not only to apologize but to share something very important: his own discovery and the thoughts of an ideal utopia. His words are dominated by a big “if.” “If” the world was different, maybe he would not have to be in prison, he would have the opportunity to live like other people. He would live a normal life and his childhood would be full of wonder and hope. Because in the conversations we had, we likened this time to childhood, which for most prisoners may have existed as an idealized state. In the rehearsals, of course, we experienced this through the joy of creation.

 

—from Multicultural Shakespeare, vol. 26 (41) 2022

*

 

Alas!, there was no “peace, love, happiness & understanding” in July because I was on the open road—traveling to Athens and Beirut, where I showed Bushra’s film “A Midsummer Night’s Dream in Prison.” The conversations following the screenings were great! While in Athens, I saw a production of “The Persians” by Aeschylus at Korydallos prison, directed by my friend Stratis Panourios. One thing especially reminded me of our plays done in Oregon prisons. After the performances, love and happiness were in the air—in prison! A miracle!

 

At the end of the June issue of “peace, love, happiness & understanding,” I invited everyone to share their visions of utopia and paradise. The subject turns out to be so big that all I can manage are a few random thoughts. Here they are:

 

The word “utopia” was coined by Sir Thomas More for his novel Utopia. It is often said that it is a translation from Greek, and that it means “no-place,” but Thomas More was probably punning on two Greek words outopia, meaning “no-place,” and eutopia, meaning “happy place.” Most creators of literary utopias were imagining societies where life would be better than the societies in which they lived—happy places!

 

Plato’s Republic is a grand vision of an ideal society. I wouldn’t want to live there. Ernest Callenbach’s Ecotopia is more my speed. But of course not everyone wants to live in the hippie version of paradise.

 

In Christianity, the word “Paradise” refers to the Garden of Eden and to Heaven. In the Garden of Eden a naked man and woman live in innocence, without sin or death. There is just one rule: they can’t eat of the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil. Tempted by a talking snake, they do just that. They get kicked out of the Garden before they are able to eat of the Tree of Life—and gain immortality thereby. They are punished for the sin of disobedience to the God who created them. A number of other punishments ensue, but the most dramatic one is that they will die.

 

Probably the oldest story invented by humans is that when you die you don’t really die. You go somewhere else. In Christianity, the basic idea is that when you die you go to Heaven if you have been good—and if you believe in Jesus Christ, who died on the cross to save you from sin and death. If you have been bad—or are an unbeliever—you are damned and must go to Hell, which is a place of eternal punishment. The idea that the good are rewarded after death and the bad are punished is an idea that is found in many cultures, and in the writings of Plato. There’s a Tibetan board game called “Rebirth,” which features a number of hells, including “The Black Rope and Crushing Hells.” (Incidentally, most of the squares on the board—on your journey to Nirvana—are states of consciousness above the heavenly realms of the gods.)

 

There are lots and lots of visions of utopias, dystopias, paradises, and hell realms of one kind and another. A fundamental obstacle to achieving utopian societies is that one person’s utopia is another person’s dystopia. Recently the Lincoln Project posted a video on YouTube in which Marjorie Taylor Greene describes the nightmarish Socialist Big Government dystopia that Democrats like Joe Biden represent—addressing education, medical care, urban problems, rural poverty, transportation, food stamps, welfare, economic opportunity, labor unions, and environmental programs. This all sounds pretty good to some folks.

 

There are many dystopian visions these days, in books and films. Two of the most well-known dystopias of the Twentieth Century are George Orwell’s 1984 and Aldous Huxley’s Brave New World. Huxley’s utopian novel, Island, is less well-known. Dave Eggers has recently given us two novels set in a not-very-distant future, in which efforts to create a technological utopia give the reader a distinctly dystopian feeling—The Circle and The Every. In The Road, Cormac McCarthy imagines a future that is so ecologically devastated that human survival is in peril. 

 

Cinematic dystopias abound. The series of Mad Max films is one example among many. Utopian visions are harder to come by. In Wim Wenders’ film Wings of Desire, one of the angel protagonists exchanges his immortality for an earthly existence, where he can enjoy the aroma of coffee and live with a beautiful trapeze artist. It’s like in the fairy tales where at least some of the people live happily ever after. This is also known as the “Hollywood Ending.” We leave the theater feeling good. 

 

There were many utopian experiments in Nineteenth Century America—from the Oneida Community, which lasted for 33 years, to the Mormon Church, which is still going strong. More recently, lots of people started hippie communes. These days the term for people who get together to live more in accordance with their ideals is “intentional communities.”

 

There’s a dark side to utopian visions, especially when violence and coercion are used to “improve” the world. The Third Reich is a spectacular example. There are others.

 

Last weekend Nancy and I went to the Canterbury Renaissance Faire, where some of our friends were performing Hamlet. The whole festival was someone’s utopian vision. Thousands of people came who enjoy imagining themselves as fairies, medieval knights, and other natural and supernatural characters of one kind and another. A play is a magical world, whether it is performed at Korydallos prison or the Canterbury Faire. For a little while we are transported to another world.

 

If you think of it in this way, utopias are everywhere. Sometimes they are very brief. A perfect moment is paradise.

 

The Big World is an endlessly complex system of ever-changing forces. While some people work for peace, justice and ecology, there are many countervailing forces in play. We have, I think, an obligation to make efforts to make the world a better place for all people—and for elephants and butterflies. 

 

In addition to this extremely challenging undertaking, we have a duty, day-by-day, to become better people—wiser, kinder, more happy, more loving, more free. Surrounded by dystopias and hells of one kind and another, we can bless the day, be thankful for our human life on earth, be helpful to our fellow mortals, create for ourselves and others moments when we find ourselves in Paradise.

 

—Johnny Stallings

*

 

My new friend Spiros in Athens sent this poem:

 

And people mix and separate and they take nothing from each other.

Because love is the most difficult way to get to know one  another.

Because people, my friend, live in the moment they find a solace in the lives of others.

And then you understand why the desperate become the greatest rebels.

And we are suddenly defenseless,

like a victor in the face of death or a defeated one facing Eternity…

 

— Tasos Leivaditis, translated from the Greek by Spiros Chrisovitsianos

*

 

Kim wrote this poem this morning (8/3/23):

 

               Borrowed Aura

 

In my dream, our shop dealt in dazzlings—

each soul’s essence distilled to mist

we could bottle and bestow to restore

balance, a hint of your verve to enliven

my calm, a whiff of my patience to guide

your eagerness, gifts sifted for exchange

until we each became whole.

 

Waking, I walked into the forest of dawn

where the scent of pitch brightened my mind,

ghostly lichen on a limb re-set my life clock,

a raven’s raspy shriek startled my pulse,

green light dazzled my numb soul,

as each turn in my pilgrim path

nudged me toward wisdom.

 

—Kim Stafford

*

 

Words for Cup and Water

 

Stepping through the dream-wall President Lincoln

cradles a cat named Bob. Droplets of rain shine

on the hemlock tree which reached

the bedroom window just this year.

 

All beveled mirrors still shimmer no matter

what they reflect, drugstore, library, bookshop

all carry magazines, hopes, and dreams,

one long loop running down

 

streamlets in the mist. I make a nest with my hands,

try to capture the mood of the mountain.

the President says, “Don’t bother, we have work to do.”

Instead, Bob washes, framed by evening light.

 

We pause for a moment.

Watch a female Harrier glide golden,

over marshy fields opening before our eyes.

Sleeves rolled up; possibilities begin to appear nearby.

 

—Elizabeth Domike

*

 

What an Angel Said

after Austin T. Holland

 

You better believe it,

kid: the arkless sea

is also a kind of ark.

 

My grief has endless credit

but I blew it all on craps

and now my eyes lack coins.

 

I never understood whether heaven-sent

meant from or to

that bright & high-rent place.

 

Divinate me. At the bottom

of every teacup (in the dregs)

you’ll find a death’s-head.

 

Tomorrow, you’ll risk laughter

when I ascend the compost pile

in a huff of regeneration.

 

Next century, I am

crowned with a wreath

of black dove & white raven

 

feathers.

 

—Alex Tretbar, first published in Anti-Heroin Chic

*

 

Perfect Day

 

it’s another perfect day on Planet Earth

I carried a heavy stone from the truck to the back yard

the bright flowers shouted at me

woke me up

reminded me

what is true

 

far away, in Washington D. C., they are making plans to kill more people

in order to get more money

 

and maybe oblivious to the blue sky

people in this city are charging off to work

preoccupied with all their problems

 

there are millions of ways to ignore

and even to try to destroy

the beauty that calls to us everywhere

from everyone

from every thing

on this perfect day

 

—Johnny Stallings

*

 

We shall study every philosophy, search through all the scriptures, consult every teacher and practice all spiritual exercises until our minds are swollen with the whole wisdom of the world. But in the end we shall return to the surprising fact that we walk, eat, sleep, feel and breathe, that whether we are deep in thought or idly passing the time of day, we are alive. And when we can know just that to be the supreme experience of religion we shall know the final secret and join in the laughter of the gods.

 

—Alan Watts, quoted in Wandering in Eden by Michael Adam