Sunday Morning Reading

“Cowardice is stronger than common sense.”

Another Sunday with yet another stab a sharing some Sunday Morning Reading. What caught my eye this week revolved around history, featuring fiddle players, photography, and a bit of Chekov among other topics. Rosin up the bow and enjoy.

Guillaume gryn_dvs kv5v3 Yh _M unsplash. Black-and-white close-up of an older man playing a violin, wearing a light fedora with a dark band and a patterned shirt, focused with an expressive, open-mouthed expression as he draws the bow across the strings.

Kicking things off are two great pieces from Robin Ince. He jump starts the first with a well worn quote from James Baldwin:

“I imagine one of the reasons people cling to their hates so stubbornly is because they sense, once hate is gone, they will be forced to deal with pain.”

I think we’ve all been gaslit a time or two in our lives. Even if you think you haven’t you should give both The Gaslight Years — Part One and To The End — Gaslighting Part Two a read. I think the fact that Baldwin wrote “hates” in the plural tells a tale.

“Agreement is cheap. Challenge is expensive.” So, says JA Westenberg in The Intellectual Circle Jerk And Why We Can’t Stop. Regardless of the hit to the pocketbook, both come with a cost.

We’ve always fought over history, even while we’re making it. Fine to fight over it, because history teaches us you can’t erase it, no matter how hard you try. Kelsey Ables takes a look at The New History Wars.

Speaking of history, Alan Palazon looks into The Forgotten Photographer Who Put A US President In The White House — And Pioneered Photographic Branding.

Harrison Smith tells the story of Violet Hensley. She Set Aside The Fiddle To Raise Children. At 99, She Made Her Opry Debut. Ms. Hensley recently passed away. Rest in peace.

I’m glad to see that Natasha MH keeps pursuing her art and her writing about it. Check out In The Canvas Grotto.

And to close, here’s a piece from 2018 that Neil Steinberg pulled out of his archives to highlight again this week. Glad he did. The title is a famous quote from Anton Chekov. Cowardice Is Stronger Than Common Sense. Maybe history does just rhyme after all.

(Image from Guillaume Gryn DVS on Unsplash)

Thanks for reading. Feel free to subscribe if you want. It’s free. If you’re interested in just what the heck Sunday Morning Reading is all about you can read more about the origins of Sunday Morning Reading here. If you’d like more click on the Sunday Morning Reading link in the category column to check out what’s been shared on Sunday’s past. You can also find more of my writings on Medium at this link, including in the publications Ellemeno and Rome. This site does not use affilate links.

 

We’re Going To Need A Bigger Woodshed

Angry thoughts.

“We’re going to need a bigger boat.” I’m reminded of that great moment and line marrying comedy and horror together in the movie Jaws, when Roy Scheider’s hero realizes he and is compatriots are up against a bigger challenge than they thought after seeing the shark up close.

Shutterstock 2567949113. A weathered, ramshackle wooden shed with a corrugated metal and tarp exterior, filled with scrap wood, planks, and discarded building materials, standing in an overgrown field surrounded by dry brush and green trees.

With so many sharks swimming around and feeding freely these day, in my own warped little mind that line twists and turns a bit, when I think of all of the punishment I’d like to see meted out whenever some semblance of sanity returns to the world, if it ever does. Along those twists and turns I imagine taking all of these villains to the woodshed my mother always threatened me that my father was going to take me to when he got home on one of the many days I misbehaved.

What’s funny about that twist is we never had a woodshed. It didn’t matter. Any room or location would do when it came time to teach me a lesson. Yup. It was a different era and that kind of lesson wasn’t frowned on like it is now. We did have an a old out building down the hill in the woods. Until I and my neighbors burned it down playing with matches. Given that my father was the chief of the volunteer fire department you can imagine how the aftermath of that unfolded.

But to the point, we’ve essentially given matches and cans of gasoline to so many prepubescents and adolescents masquerading as adults in so many sectors of our lives and are watching the smoke rise out of the trees down the hill. If not the flames licking at our foundations.

I’m starting to get the sense that even with fresh outrages flaring up each day, with no help from those who seem to know better, that too many are becoming content to let things just burn out, hoping for some sort of regrowth under the ashes.

Call me old fashioned, or just call me old. But either way, most of the damage that’s being done in our political, social, and technological lives seems to be egged on by some who might have profited from a visit to that proverbial woodshed.

Enough trips to the woodshed with enough switches used to somehow flip a switch that changed behavior for enough of us in my generation to make the unconvertible stand out as those you wouldn’t welcome into your life.

Buy, hey. Feelings.

I don’t blame kids for misbehaving badly. I do blame adults. Especially adults who let other adults act out. Frankly, I don’t see a chance for any new undergrowth happening without that bigger woodshed and a line out the door waiting to enter.

(Image by ja-aljona on Shutterstock)

Thanks for reading. You can subscribe to this blog if you care to. You can also find more of my writings on a variety of topics on Medium at this link, including in the publications Ellemeno and Rome. I can also be found on social media under my name as above. This site does not use affilate links.

 

Sunday Morning Reading

A moment to breathe differently

The road to our time at the family lake house is a mile long and a bumpy washboard filled with twists and turns. Arriving after shaking out a filling or two, there’s a leveling out that leads to a sort of peace, even if only for a few days. I’m not sure I leveled out fully this weekend, but the moments to breathe differently sure helped. Even if the weather only cooperated for a few hours.

Thanks to science, apparently the human origin story  is being rewritten according to Ross Anderson in The Human-Origin Story Is Being Radically Revised. Probably a good thing given that today’s story tellers keep rewriting recent history. So it begs the question as to who might listen to any new version science rewrites.

Speaking of science, and also how we might define the human story and its origins, Claire L. Evans takes a look at the creation of brains in labs in AI Is Dead. Organoids Are Alive. 

Whatever the twists and turns, bumps and bruises of history, science, and the stories that make up different versions of our lives, I happen to agree with Lauren Leek that everything is being flattened to feel all the same. Check out Temperature Zero For Culture: Why Everything Is Starting To Look The Same.

Given the intermittent rain storms, it was a battle to keep most of us away from our phones this weekend. Neil Steinberg suggests maybe adults need to adopt the practice of some schools in Maybe Adults Should Follow Students In Setting Down Our Phones.

Natasha MH takes a look at crippling anxiety is Sunshine After The Rain. Be the sunshine.

Dealing with anxiety can be painful. Lots of that to go around these days. David Todd McCarty examines The Upside Of Pain.

Disunion by Kurt Anderson is a terrific short story. It may be speculative fiction, but it feels all too real. I don’t know why, but reading this does not make me feel anxious or cause me pain.

With things flattening out, I believe the extreme edges are where things always matter. Robin Ince writes How I Became An Extremist.

Using quotes from throughout history, literary and otherwise, Jordan Dworkin built a fascinating webpage that tours through the ordinary things of an apartment, reminding us that the things we take for granted were once new and invented somewhere along the line and that “we remain restless in the midst of progress,” and our lives today are “a gallery of past generations’ heroic efforts to do the same.” Check out Ordinary Abundance. It’s a lovely piece and worth your time. I wish I felt the same about the things we’re trying to create today.

(Photo by the author)

Thanks for reading. Feel free to subscribe if you want. It’s free. If you’re interested in just what the heck Sunday Morning Reading is all about you can read more about the origins of Sunday Morning Reading here. If you’d like more click on the Sunday Morning Reading link in the category column to check out what’s been shared on Sunday’s past. You can also find more of my writings on Medium at this link, including in the publications Ellemeno and Rome. This site does not use affilate links.

 

Sunday Morning Reading

Where does it begin? Where does it end?

Origin stories. Crazy stuff sometimes. Living in a world when we can make up, massage, or hallucinate just about anything, it’s no wonder that origin stories captivate and often capture us in our quest for meaning. Perhaps so we can have disagreements over them. I wonder what the origin of that is all about? This week’s Sunday Morning Reading touches on origin stories as well as some of the usual topics that I find of interest and worth sharing.

A typewriter with a page inserted with the sentence "In The Beginning" Getty images c O6QssKbtI unsplash.

Ross Anderson tells us The Human-Origin Story Is Being Radically Revised. Even if we discovered that this is all a simulation, I’m sure it would be debated, monetized, summarized, and bastardized into meaninglessness somehow.

No origin story is complete without some sort of religious or spiritual interpretation. Even Artificial Intelligence isn’t immune to that human phenomenon. Hayden Field explores How AI Bots Started A Religion — Humans Immediately Followed.

Everybody makes mistakes. Neil Steinberg suggests we might be getting too comfortable with that fact and a writer’s duty is to aim higher for accuracy, while admitting our flaws in To Write Is Too Err.

On a political front, everyone seems mired in a mud fight about how the Democrats might be unable to reconcile their progressive and moderate wings. Jay Caspian King takes a look at Subaru Socialists And The Great Disappointed, trying to figure out what’s behind some of the millennial thinking these days, as well as that of the generation that followed them, which he labels “The Great Disappointed.” Life is disappointment. Living is how you deal with it.

Meanwhile, David Todd McCarty asks What Does It Mean To Be A Moderate? I don’t have the answer to that. Frankly, given that everyone is so pissed off I don’t think it matters. That said, while how we insist on defining ourselves might help talk about political life, it sure isn’t helping cure what ails us.

Apparently the one thing that all flavors of the political spectrum can agree on is that data centers are not a good thing. Except those who make the policy and accept the bribes to allow data center construction in my backyard or yours. Molly Taft looks at How Data Centers Broke American Politics. I might argue that they revealed rather than broke. Because the bagmen got too clumsy.

I’ve been following the goings on at Google for most of the summer because the goings on are going to change things. In my view, not for the better. Like Donald Trump, Google hasn’t been shy about saying it’s going to screw things up. (My words, not theirs.) This week there was a shakeup among Google’s AI hierarchy that suggests the screws on the screw up are tightening down in what seems like a rush to productize too soon. Hayden Field gets into The Messy Politics Behind Google’s Big AI Shakeup.

Every origin story is one that also reaches an end. I commented on the passing of Om Malik several Sunday’s ago. Thanks to John Gruber for linking to Om’s final blog post, something I somehow missed. It’s about so much more than the headline suggests. But that’s what Om Malik was about. So much more. Check out The Myth, The Mythos and the Man. I’ll close with this quote from his post:

The sophist is selecting, sequencing, and presenting in ways that produce belief without requiring the audience to do the work. Mythos, for Plato, was the domain of poets and myth-makers. Useful for educating the young, dangerous when deployed as a substitute for rigorous argument among adults.

(Image licensed from Getty Images for Unsplash+)

Thanks for reading. Feel free to subscribe if you want. It’s free. If you’re interested in just what the heck Sunday Morning Reading is all about you can read more about the origins of Sunday Morning Reading here. If you’d like more click on the Sunday Morning Reading link in the category column to check out what’s been shared on Sunday’s past. You can also find more of my writings on Medium at this link, including in the publications Ellemeno and Rome. This site does not use affilate links.

 

Too Many Frankensteins

There’s a reason they call it science FICTION.

Why does no one ever read the end of the story? Or if they do, why don’t they pay attention?

A publicity still from Guillermo del Toro's Frankenstein featuring a sunlit forest surrounded by tall tree trunks, a pale, muscular humanoid creature with light purple skin and ridge-like markings on its head and shoulders crouches on the ground. The figure wears cloth wraps around its forearms and waist, and holds a mossy human skull close to its face with a somber expression. Partial human skeletal remains, including a rib cage, rest on the mossy forest floor in front of it.

Ever since Mary Shelley gave us Frankenstein, laying out a moral of a story proving that just because you can, doesn’t mean you should, there seems to be a preponderance of ignorance running alongside the obvious capabilities our current day Dr. Frankensteins possess. It feels like the story is playing on an endless Youtube Short or TikTok or Reel without ever reaching the end and the story’s point. The only thing coming close to the volume of ignorance is the overdose of hubris that someone must be selling somewhere on some street corner. Or maybe it’s testosterone injections.

Whatever it is, whether in tech and AI, politics, sports, media, or fill in the blank for any field that can issue a press release and attract attention like flies to rotting flesh, it’s past the epidemic stage and has spread like a plague.

The fever stokes flames on Wall Street, which seems content to fuel them further until it all melts down. As long as they make their fees. Makes one wonder how the prediction markets on any number of popping bubbles are doing?

Between AI companies climbing over each other to fight over which model can cause more damage when they break free, companies creating horror movie-like robots to do damage control in dangerous circumstances, companies working to create AI powered glasses that will be used for mass surveillance — much less trouble making privacy violations, the tech sector seems to be outrunning the rest when it comes to the mad scientist wannabe game.

Politicians aren’t far behind, lagging only by their inability to keep up with and understand the changes happening around them as they count the cash being stuffed in their pockets. Sports teams intent on winning today don’t seem to care that they may be permanently damaging their game.

And there’s a media that doesn’t actually care who wins and who loses as long as they have access to the story of the rise and the story of the fall. Imagine if today’s media had covered Dr. Frankenstein’s efforts the way they cover Musk, Altman, Zuckerberg, or any of the others.

It’s too broad a generalization to say these stories never end well, even though many fail whether the consequences are intended or not. But in a world seemingly being driven by a bunch of geeks who profess a love for science fiction, and those who can’t help but take their money to drive their own ambitions, you’d think someone along the way would understand that they don’t get to write the end.

But that would require more than reading a summary.

Thanks for reading. You can subscribe to this blog if you care to. You can also find more of my writings on a variety of topics on Medium at this link, including in the publications Ellemeno and Rome. I can also be found on social media under my name as above. This site does not use affilate links.

 

The Odyssey: A Review

A good, but not great film.

Have you ever had one of those moments in life that at the time felt like a great victory, but then turned sour later on, leading to regret? I have. It’s no fun to look back on. It can hurt worse to look in the mirror.

Screenshot 2025-12-23 at 2.09.57 pm of a promotional poster for The Odyssey

Sure you can go into therapy to help you feel better about your choices and the ramifications. But first you have to face them, own them, and accept responsibility.

Or you could try to bury them in the bottle. Or drugs, illicit or otherwise. Or some other way of trying to keep them from resurfacing. Or you could just throw up your hands, blame the gods. Perhaps defy them. But in the end the choices you make define you. How you deal with the definition tells your story.

That’s essentially the story of Christopher Nolan’s The Odyssey. Much the same as it was with Oppenheimer. Do a thing. Do it well. Succeed. Then realize what you’ve done has unleashed problems bigger than the one you set out to overcome.

Is The Odyssey a good film? In my opinion, yes. Bordering on being very good one. It’s not a great one. You can see Nolan’s affection for the story he’s telling and his passion for the techniques he’s using to do so in every frame. That passion for filmmaking his way is also what keeps The Odyssey from being a great film.

In general I blow hot and cold on Nolan’s work. While he can create some thrilling cinema, his attention to his process creates an almost Brechtian alienation, while still embracing the story he’s trying to tell. And make no mistake this Odyssey is Nolan’s story more than it is Homer’s. There’s nothing wrong with that. It is a movie after all, and a story to tell the way he wants too. But in most of his movies, his love for his craft and artistry is too distancing to lure me in.

As to the story, the similarities between The Odyssey and Oppenheimer are easy to see. Man uses his ingenuity to do the impossible, man ends up regretting the result. Nolan told that story better in Oppenheimer.

Both films contain big moments of spectacle alternating with more intimate scenes. I walked away from Oppenheimer less impressed with the apparent painstaking to create explosions than I was with the more intimate scenes which I found infinitely more frightening and revealing. I don’t feel the same way about The Odyssey, although the work to create the Cyclops and Circe’s turning Odysseus’ men into swine pays off very well. The intimate scenes in The Odyssey did not capture me the way I think Nolan thought they would. The spectacle largely worked well. Which brings me to Matt Damon.

I don’t think Damon was the best choice for the lead. Given the framing that Nolan chose to wrap his story in, he certainly wasn’t. Following the poem’s lead in alternating timelines, Damon seemed to be the same throughout most of the film, until his return home.

Damon’s known for his straight ahead with purpose presence on screen, plowing through any obstacle in his path, typically with a strong resolve that’s unyielding. Prior to seeing the film I thought the casting made great sense. Yet it did not in practice. I never felt Damon transition from a “something’s really bothering me about all of this” gest into a leader of confidence and cunning until the final act. He just seemed bothered.

Part of that is certainly in the writing, both Nolan’s and Homer’s, given that the story is more about looking back in the aftermath. That makes sense while he’s trying to come to grips with all he’s wrought after the sack of Troy, but not in the early stages of his adventure, which we’re treated to in flashbacks. There’s no self-accomplished, self-aggrandizing height from which he can fall. His compatriots around him acted as if they were seeing something out of the ordinary, yet we never really saw what bonded their allegiance to him in the first place.

The other aspect of The Odyssey that keeps it from being a great film is the Netflix-like don’t trust your audience to pay attention restating of Zeus’ law, which grounds Odysseus’ guilt. The point that Zeus’s golden rule (be kind to strangers and guests-you never know they may be a god in disguise) is repeated so frequently, it often feels like Nolan the screenwriter didn’t trust it as the central motivating point for his character’s actions and struggles.

On the plus side, Nolan has assembled an incredible cast of actors around Damon that we’re used to seeing carry their own films and that largely pays off. Although some seem underused. The visual and aural experience can be stunning. I particularly like the choice of orchestrations in the soundtrack. The special effects have their special moments.

Is it worth seeing? I’d say yes. I’d also say that what it offers will not be substantially different once it becomes a streaming success than it is in the theaters, especially the limited number of venues that show it in the format the director wishes.

I won’t get into the squabbles that have surrounded this film with more free publicity than you can shake a stick at. With one exception. I keep reading and hearing folks saying Nolan’s version of The Odyssey is as much about today as it is about the age the story takes place in. Of course in today’s world that means some love that and some hate that. That has more to do with Homer than it has to do with Nolan.

The reason many of certain generations are at least tangentially familiar with The Odyssey is Homer wrote a story about humankind that is as enduring as the flaws and faults we as a species share and keep repeating. It’s a mirror that exposes those flaws that we really work hard to avoid looking into. It’s a difficult story that needs telling in and of itself, and has found itself as the foundation of many different variants in other forms. Funny thing is, we never seem to learn from it, regardless of its trappings.

Thanks for reading. You can subscribe to this blog if you care to. You can also find more of my writings on a variety of topics on Medium at this link, including in the publications Ellemeno and Rome. I can also be found on social media under my name as above. This site does not use affilate links.

 

Sunday Morning Reading

Revelate

Still on the road for summer travels, but this week offered a few moments to do some reading when not toodling along listening to the music of Glen Hansard. So time to share a few good pieces of writing and good reads in this week’s Sunday Morning Reading. 

A side-profile view shot through a car window showing an elderly man wearing a fedora hat, glasses, and a dark jacket sitting in the driver's seat. He is holding and reading a newspaper open near the steering wheel. Reflection from the street is subtly visible on the glass, giving the image a muted, film-like aesthetic. Image by Samuel Couto bKBOP9pn1K0 unsplash.

Kick things off with a piece by Robert P. George called The Two Great Threats To Truth. He questions whether there really is a difference between moral relativism and fantacism, if in the end they yield the same result. The piece will make you think. If thinking is your thing.

Claire Stapelton rose through the ranks at Google. From reading The Voice Of Google, it sounds like she saw it all, and she’s telling quite a bit of it.

“Government Efficiency and Death by Indifference” is the subhead to Anton Shekhovtsov’s The Techno-Oligarchy’s First “Holocaust.” It’s quite a dire piece, but certainly worth your time.

Speaking of oligarchs, a trio of NY Times writers take a look at Larry Ellison and his bet on AI. Check out Jonathan Mahler, Jim Rutenberg and Kirsten Grind’s story, Larry Ellision Bet It All on the A.I. Boom. Will He Be The Face of the A.I. Bubble? At some point this bubble has to pop, right?

David Todd McCarthy says There Is A Crack In Everything. Truth and beauty lie in the imperfections, not in the perfect.

The world is certainly an imperfect place. Rachel Yoder’s short story, The Promise perfectly reveals that.

Alex Skopic flushes out some thoughts on the failed state in Diarrhea In Every Pot and A Gun In Every Mailbox. When you break things down to “shooting and shitting” you might be on to something.

There’s nothing obligatory about Jeff Johnson’s piece The Obligatory AI Post. Make it obligatory reading.

To close out this week, a sad one when we lost one of the good ones in Glen Hansard, give a read to Sophia Stewart’s tribute, The People’s Troubador. If you don’t know the music, you should.

Revelate.

(Image from Samuel Couto on Unsplash)

Thanks for reading. Feel free to subscribe if you want. It’s free. If you’re interested in just what the heck Sunday Morning Reading is all about you can read more about the origins of Sunday Morning Reading here. If you’d like more click on the Sunday Morning Reading link in the category column to check out what’s been shared on Sunday’s past. You can also find more of my writings on Medium at this link, including in the publications Ellemeno and Rome. This site does not use affilate links.

Sunday Morning Reading

Still milling milestones

It’s a Sunday. It’s a Sunday when I can say I’ve hung around for seven decades as the clock ticked past 70 yesterday. Spending the weekend celebrating with the grandkids, dodging in an out of pockets of time when the air is breathable, so there’s only a few links to share in this week’s Sunday Morning Reading. Hope you enjoy them as much as I have spending it with two innocents watching them approach the world from that perspective. When they look to you for answers, it’s awesomely terrifying.

David Todd McCarty thinks We’re Teaching Our Kinds The Wrong Lessons. As someone who wonders why we spend so much time teaching them not to lie in a world that rewards liars, I often think the same.

NatashaMH writes about An Artist’s Search For Meaning. The quote below she included from Viktor E. Frankel, hit in a different way on this birthday weekend.

“It did not really matter what we expected from life, but rather what life expected from us. We needed to stop asking about the meaning of life, and instead to think of ourselves as those who were being questioned by life — daily and hourly.”

It wouldn’t be a Sunday Morning Reading column without at least one nod to politics, Her’s the nod from Carlyn Beccia, wondering Has America Crossed The Asshole Threshold? I would argue yes, but wouldn’t limit it to just America.

Claire Stapleton worked at Google. She saw most of it. She tells what she saw in The Voice Of Google in a piece that is so much more than just about Google and the tech culture.

Thanks for reading. Feel free to subscribe if you want. It’s free. If you’re interested in just what the heck Sunday Morning Reading is all about you can read more about the origins of Sunday Morning Reading here. If you’d like more click on the Sunday Morning Reading link in the category column to check out what’s been shared on Sunday’s past. You can also find more of my writings on Medium at this link, including in the publications Ellemeno and Rome. This site does not use affilate links.

 

Sunday Morning Reading

Reading is a gateway drug. Get your buzz on.

Sunday Morning Reading is about…well, it’s about reading. In my personal opinion some don’t read nearly enough. Read. Read those you agree with. Just as important, read those you disagree with. Stretch those reading muscles and stretch your mind.

I linked to a Rose Horowitch piece earlier in the week entitled The End of Reading Is Here. It’s controversial. I don’t agree completely. But that’s the point of reading. If that’s still a thing.

Follow that piece up with Sonny Bunch’s R.I.P. Attention Span. Closing his essay he says “The end of reading may be here. But so too might be the end of watching anything that lasts longer than the time it took you to read this sentence.”

In an age where some are eager to ban books (surprised we haven’t seen any book burnings yet) Mendel Uminer chose to move rather than reduce his collection of books after his landlord complained. Check out Alex Vadukul’s story Too Many Books.

You know that reading can satisfy curiosity. It can also raise it to new levels. Neil Steinberg’s Etymological Field Notes tells such a tale. Do you flânuer?

And for those who tell you not to believe everything you read, here’s John Semley on The Fanfare Around The Band Geese Actually Was a Psyop.

In the wake of all of the seemingly unending horrible daily doping of bad political news, (some about wakes to be, some about wakes possibly delayed), James L. Bruno writes The “Last Best Hope On Earth” Crashes & Burns.

With the act and art of reading being in question, especially when it comes to the news, the click matters more than the content now that most of what we’re presented isn’t worth being displayed in a supermarket checkout line tabloid rack. Or does it? According to Pete Pachal when it comes to the news Speed Still Matters In News, But The Prize Is No Longer The Click. Maybe there never was a prize.

Speaking of prizes. Winning isn’t everything. Unless it is. JA Westenberg reminds us that A Battle Won Is A Terrible Thing.

Rob Urie tells us Why AI Doesn’t Think, Cannot Reason, Isn’t Intelligent and Will Never Achieve Consciousness. It’s not magic.

(image from the author)

Thanks for reading. Feel free to subscribe if you want. It’s free. If you’re interested in just what the heck Sunday Morning Reading is all about you can read more about the origins of Sunday Morning Reading here. If you’d like more click on the Sunday Morning Reading link in the category column to check out what’s been shared on Sunday’s past. You can also find more of my writings on Medium at this link, including in the publications Ellemeno and Rome. This site does not use affilate links.

 

The Myth of Character

There’s nothing new under the sun

I’m a pretty good judge of character. My profession as a theatre director trained me to understand a character in a play’s dramatis personae from reading a script. I hear you. That’s life on the stage. That’s make believe.

Shutterstock 1782039683.

Here’s the secret. No character on a stage ever appeared for the first time in a play. They debuted in life and someone described them in words and brought them to theatrical life. Playwrights don’t create characters out of whole cloth. They, like poets and writers before them, write characters as they have experienced them in the real world, or borrow them from those that have written them before. We are a decidedly unoriginal species.

If you live long enough and pay attention to the world, you develop the same skills as writers and theatre directors. You quickly come to realize that there are indeed a limited number of character types around us and they are easily identifiable. There are apparently a finite number of molds we’re baked in.

Hell, dogs recognize good and bad characters much like humans. Often faster. So do children, but something happens as we mature that dulls that instinct.

Writers for the page, stage and cinema people their stories with recognizable types, not for lack of trying, but as recognition that we don’t really change that much through the ages. In the theatre trade we call these easily identifiable types “stock characters.” Stock, as in picking them down off of a shelf.

Aristophanes and Theophrastus for the Greeks, and Plautus for the Romans get most of the credit for this. Although most consider Plautus to have simply borrowed the concept. Later, Commedia dell’Arte became famous for its stock characters, and also the masks created for them. The humans behind the masks became less important to the story than the costume. That should tell you something.

Supposedly the first time the term “stock character” appeared in the English language was in the 1860’s. Other cultures had and have their own versions of stock characters. Asian and African forms of storytelling also developed their own easily recognizable familiar characters.

When it comes to literature and entertainment there haven’t been that many new characters recreated from life’s observances since antiquity. “Good” characters have a flaw or two or three. So do the “bad.” That’s what makes them human. Even the dramas written in the days of multiple gods featured those beings as flawed. Without flaws there is no conflict, no drama, no comedy.

In today’s highly charged political atmosphere, with villains currently holding winning hands here and abroad, looking for perfect characters to defeat them is a fool’s errand. And yes, there are more than plenty who fit the character mold of fool.

When a person creates a role behind a mask representing good character or one on a path of redemption, that’s an age old character trait also. Those characters always get their comeuppance in the end when the flaws are exposed. It’s only recently in the history of literature that we’ve forced happy endings that include the irredemable into the mix. It’s a sad and unfunny joke that people keep trying the trick. Audiences, like dogs, sniff it out.

When someone says a man or woman is of good character it doesn’t mean they’re perfect, pristine, or pure. We might like it to, but that’s wish casting. Flaws will always emerge. Otherwise the story generally sucks.

I wish we’d stop looking for those mythical creatures and recognize that the good and bad ones that populate our real life off the stage are just copying what came before and mirroring the life most of us lead.

(Image from mariesacha on Shutterstock)

Thanks for reading. You can subscribe to this blog if you care to. You can also find more of my writings on a variety of topics on Medium at this link, including in the publications Ellemeno and Rome. I can also be found on social media under my name as above. This site does not use affilate links.