Saturday 22 May 2021

The artist 'as

criminal' is no longer a popular concept. Artists must be ‘socially aware’ and that awareness must be transmitted through our work unequivocally, in other words, people must get the point..There was an attempt recently to stand behind the work of an artist who also happened to be a criminal. Canadian poet George Elliot Clarke wished to read a poem by Steven Kummerfield in January 2020. The reading was cancelled, because approximately 26 years ago Kummerfield  murdered an Indigenous woman. I heard about this because a woman called me when I was on the train. She was once a dear friend; no longer. She had just moved to Saskatchewan. She wanted to know my opinion of the Clarke debacle. I said that the fact that Kummerfield was a murderer did not mean his poetry should be banned. Yes, Kummerfield spent 9 years in prison for his crime. Perhaps he should have been in jail longer, perhaps he should never have been released; his crime is heinous. But that wouldn’t stop me from reading Kummerfield’s poetry — nor should it stop you. It’s not about whether or not people change; I doubt they actually do, fundamentally, once a murderer, always a murderer, you can’t wipe off that stain with a dinner napkin. But no writing should be banned ever — every adult person should be allowed to read or hear or watch anything they wish. Why? Because the person (or more likely institution) that bans literature will 100%-for-sure use that power to manipulate you, to keep you from knowing what must be known, what should be known, what every human being is required to know. After all the most valuable knowledge is the most dangerous, and the most frightening knowledge is the most likely to be censored, and very likely to be found in poetry or fiction; not in some damn essay (complain loudly if this starts to sound like one.) My ex-friend pushed further: “I know you are dogmatic about this, but in this case, wouldn’t you modify your opinion? Out of kindness? Human charity?” But it is not ‘kind’ to human beings to limit human knowledge. I suppose God should have shot Eve for tempting Adam to take a bite out of the apple? Don’t forget — women have traditionally been blamed for all kinds of knowledge we supposedly shouldn’t have (usually sexual knowledge). Hey, that might be a good reason to silence women, don’t you think?  The most eloquent argument I have heard in favour of burning books (let’s call it what it is, please) is in Forbidden Knowledge by Roger Shattuck. Shattuck uses the example of 120 Days of Sodom written in prison by the Marquis de Sade. (De Sade was jailed — ironically — by Napoleon —a dictator —  for seducing young women.) It is true that 120 Days of Sodom is probably the most amoral book ever written, it's unabashedly pornographic and equates sexual excitement with murder and mutilation. Fun, eh? Shattuck does not suggest that de Sade’s masterpiece should be banned, but rather that it should be kept in a locked room at the Biblioteque National de France; that only a select few be allowed to read it. It doesn’t matter what Shattuck's criterion was— no set of ‘criterion’ will do. Books must not be banned for some, but available to others. The argument is that certain adults — particularly ones who are mentally unbalanced — might read such ‘literature’ and be inspired to commit crime. This is Shattuck’s argument, but he is nowhere able to convince me of this with lucid reasoning. I am almost convinced by reading between the lines — by an admission so horrifying that Shattuck was not able to utter the words out loud. It is somewhat clear from Shattuck’s introduction that something terrible happened to his family —a wicked violence was done to someone he loved very much. He is not able to speak of it openly and certainly not in detail, he refers to it tangentially if you read between the lines. In other words he has written this book against poetry — against art — due to a nightmarish personal experience with human evil. This is certainly persuasive but not enough to convince me. The fact is that violent pornography is just as likely to serve as a harmless outlet to human aggression, as it is to inspire it; I have no doubt that if someone is unhinged enough to murder people and/or mutilate them they will do it whether or not they read about it in a book. One of the reasons we even consider censorship in the modern world is because we have forgotten what catharsis is. The reaction to Greek tragedy was a intuitive, tribal; the plays were filled with violence, rape, and mutilation — presented offstage, yes — but described in gory poetical detail. This was to purge the audience of pity and fear; this kind of purging is something people need. I am happy to report that there is a new play coming up at Buddies in Bad Times Theatre which I am eager to see -- White Muscle Daddy. It seems to be written about me. It is “the story of a vampiric predator at large in a major urban centre’s queer village’ and is labelled a “psychosexual thriller.” I seem to fit the description of the criminal leading man, the image associated with the piece is a giant, delectable looking, muscled ass — which of course, resembles mine. During my ‘cancellation’ at Buddies in 2018, I was demonised on social media (so they tell me, I don’t read social media) apparently as a filthy minded old homosexual (I stand convicted, I’m fine with that) who’s always on the lookout for more sex. Evalyn Parry and her ‘gang of many’ seemed to think that my blog about Vivek Shraya was a criminal act and that my plays should be banned. But art should -- nay must -- be a criminal act, as Penny Arcade says:“If you don’t have a functioning criminal class in your art scene, you have academia.” Shakespeare was a criminal, as was Rimbaud, Chester Himes, Nelson Algren, Genet, Olive Wharry, and Oscar Wilde, so probably is Woody Allen; Picasso stole stuff, Pound was a Nazi, we would have no art without criminality. If you need to put them all  in jail, do so, but leave their work alone. It needs to be seen; it needs you.