pics
:: sigh :: Yesterday i was too tired and then too drunk to type a coherent entry, this morning (well, noon...) too hung-over (Really, i have no tolerance for alcohol whatsoever anymore. Not that i ever had much of one, but this is getting somewhat embarrassing.) And now it's already very difficult to recreate the mood...
Went to see
'Gilgamesh', thanks @ the parents, who in a momentary lapse of memory forgot they'd already seen it and bought tickets.
Beautifully staged, some very impressive images, good blend between modern and ancient elements (or so i presume, because i don't remember ever having finished reading the ancient text), a story that can still be meaningful today, because it touches upon some fundamental human experiences and questions. Not exactly uplifting, not exactly comforting, but very human with a sort of conciliatory, balanced ending. Great acting all around.
There's this tendency in modern literature and art to look increasingly critically at ancient mythology and its heroes, which may or may not be justified, though as i grow older i find myself leaning more and more towards this more critical approach (as opposed to the 19 yr old me, just having started to study archaeology and in love with Homer's heroes and Alexander the Great...
:: cough ::), at least where it's supposed to reflect on life today.
What i loved about this production is that despite taking a critical stance it maintained a balance and never crossed the line to what with a less than scientific term could be described as character bashing. (Something that happens to Achilles in most modern retellings of the Iliad and never fails to annoy me, even while i'm aware that this is a character ambivalent even in antiquity, and certainly even more so today.)
This Gilgamesh isn't a hero one easily takes to. He's arrogant, and not in an endearing or charismatic way either, selfish, obsessed with his fame and his fear of not leaving a mark in history, building cities, killing monsters, stereotypically male in his abuse of women he can dominate and his rejection of Ishtar, who he can't (no woman shall rule me, in a nutshell) as in everything else he does. Especially during the first part he's a rather unpleasant human being it's almost impossible to sympathise with, not even in his doomed relationship with Enkidu or his grief after Enkidu's death.
Yet in the end one can see oneself in this flawed man who struggles with his life, his supposed fate, loss and meaning, torn between a belief in manipulative gods and the nihilism inherent in rejecting them, rebelling against acceptance to the last.
Enkidu might stand for the emergence of a basic human self awareness out of a thoughtless, purely instinct-driven animal state, all the primal things that constitute humanity - contact, companionship, society and all the trappings of civilisation. In christian biblical terms the fall of man, but in a positive and less moralising way, even though faced with the certainty of his death Enkidu idealises his animal existence and curses those who forced him into human consciousness. Gilgamesh's path takes him a little further, he's the materialistic man who has control over the physical aspects of his life, suddenly forced to face the spiritual sphere, questions about life and death, doubts and self-reflection. A kind of mirror image Hamlet in spite of himself, with no philosophic predisposition.
It could easily drift of into despair and nihilism, but somehow doesn't. Faced with those primal questions about the meaning of life and death we can only ever answer for ourselves, what the play ultimately may strive for is some kind of balance, acceptance. Necessarily of death, but also of life. Not to miss it while chasing for its meaning. Or maybe more to the point, the chase is also the meaning. The rebellion against gods, against beliefs, the struggle to come to terms with our lives, ourselves, even the failure, all this is a necessary and worthwhile part of being human. This, if anything is the greatness of life, even if ultimately in the face of death it may be in vain, because there is nothing else than life itself.
There was a point in the beginning where i was wishing they'd toned down the humour and sarcasm a bit in favour of the tragedy, but it maybe was a necessary balance, rather like in a Shakespearean tragedy...
Gilgamesh up to the end cannot see beyond his doubts, his despair, but this need not necessarily exclude the possibility of it making sense, and we're maybe being offered a possibility that he doesn't see... (and i can't really believe this is *me*, writing this, but somehow this is the impression that i left the theatre with.)
I loved the way the gods were staged, always a very real presence, either sitting on a raised catwalk at the back of the stage (presumably inspired by a similar practice in ancient greek theatre), or giant black and white faces projected on a screen across the stage. Very *convincing* (for a lack of a better word, not that i ever gave much of a thought to what Sumerian gods would look or behave like... ) as supernatural beings, even with their meddling, their indifference and vengefulness.
Mammitum, the mother of the gods, a tiny old woman with some kind of veil-like head dress, smoking a cigar, describing how she created Man from clay. Absolutely lovely. Shamash, the sun god, a quiet presence, protective of Gilgamesh, sad, because he cannot change the tragedy played out in front of him; picture Stefan from Placebo, only not quite that slender, in one of those long skirt things that presumably should recall the ancient Sumerian costume.
***All in all, this put me in a very mellow, balanced mood i still try to cling to...
I even apologised to my father for generally being an asshole where he's concerned, something i can't seem to be able to change even while most of the times i'm rather ashamed of my behaviour (And haven't we come round full circle now? Two of a very fucked up kind. I'd laugh if it weren't so very pathetic. Remind me not to have kids, ever.), so i guess that makes an apology somewhat redundant... But there just are a lot of issues i don't exactly blame him for, but can't forget (forgive?) either, that'd make a psychologist very happy...
***in other news, i rather emphatically stated i disliked the movie, right? snarked. bitched. i now have the
poster. er,
posters. in the kitchen. what can i say, they're just too pretty.
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