Thursday, April 16, 2015

Which Imitates Which? A Drash for 17 April 2015

I have been known to use this pulpit as a confessional of sorts.  Why do you think I do this?  Am I, at heart, some kind of exhibitionist?  I hope you don’t think so.  The truth is that I want to expose common foibles by noting that I am as guilty of them as you might be…maybe more!  If I have the courage to admit my idiosyncrasies and tell how I’m working on them, then maybe you will have the courage to admit your own to yourselves…and begin to work on them.
          So, what is tonight’s confession?  Here goes…I have taken to watching, and planning my day around, The Bold and the Beautiful.  Four-thirty every afternoon on Channel Ten.  And on those days when I miss it, there’s a reprise broadcast the next morning at seven-thirty.
          Yes, your rabbi watches the soaps – or at least, one soap in particular – regularly.  I’m completely fascinated by the show, whose meandering plot unfolds day after day at a near-glacial pace.  And what a plot!  Everybody in three large families is connected by marriages, divorces, betrayals, bed-shifting, incest, and cradle-robbing.  Sex, sex, and more sex!  Everybody works in the high-powered fashion industry.  Yet nobody ever seems to be working!  They spend their time creating interpersonal drama.  For all that, they clearly are paid well.  The women are dripping in jewels, the men in expensive boy toys.  All live in magnificent homes, dine out all the time and travel extensively.
          I remember when, as a boy, I first heard the term ‘Soap Opera’ applied to such programs.  My mother patiently explained to me that the ‘soap’ comes from their sponsorship by soap companies.  Such companies as Colgate and Palmolive, before they became Colgate-Palmolive.  Procter and Gamble.  And the ‘opera’ part of the phrase refers to the melodramatic quality of their plots. 
          Maybe you’re wondering just why I feel that I must apologise for having become a devotee of this program.  If so, I’ll tell you that I’ve always harboured a certain contempt for those who are.  Years ago, in the USA I remember reading about how there was an ‘epidemic’ of devotion to those daytime soaps on university campuses.  I remember questioning the value of higher education if that’s what students had time for, and were drawn to.  Having left school before finishing my degree and having completed it through off-duty courses and testing, I began to feel acquitted for the way I’d spent my early adult years.
          And now here I am, fascinated by this slowly-unfolding melodrama played out in half-hour daily instalments on daytime TV.
          Everybody is familiar with the declaration that art imitates life, which originates with Aristotele.  And perhaps also with its antithesis, life imitates art, whose source is an 1889 essay by Oscar Wilde.  The question is:  which one is more correct?  I think the latter, at least in our day and age.  Look at the eternal popularity of the soaps.  And then look at how people you know, tend to play out their lives as an ever-unfolding melodrama – similar to the soaps’ plots.
          So I have spent a number of hours of my life, hours that I will never get back, watching The Bold and the Beautiful.  What could I possibly have learned from it?  I mean, if I’m standing in front of you on Friday night and talking about it, there has to be a lesson in it…doesn’t there?  Never fear; there is!
          The characters in The Bold and the Beautiful are mostly good people with good intentions.  And yet they repeatedly hurt one another as they live out their dramas.  So why do they live their lives as scripted melodramas, if it hurts people who are dear to them?  Because they are driven by the excitement of the drama.  Instead of accepting that most of life is calm and even boring, the drama is like a drug.  Once hooked on it, one needs more and more.  And because it is like a drug, one is unlikely to be able to own up one’s dependence upon it.
          We can see this quality in ordinary human discourse.  People who are essentially good, with good intentions, engaging in dramas that are hurtful to others.  But the drama itself becomes a driving force where the actors are unable to see what they are doing.  And thus they hurt one another.  But there are no gains whatsoever to be had.  At the end of the day, there is only hurt to spread around.  But those addicted to the drama cannot see it, any more than most alcoholics can be honest about their addiction.
          The radio personality – and bestselling author – Dennis Prager offers insight into the nature of evil in our world.  He observes, most accurately, that the majority of evil in the world is introduced by people who mean well.  We already know this principle from the cliché:  The road to hell is paved with good intentions.  Prager meant to apply it to the macro, where great utopian movements are founded by those with good intentions yet cause much suffering.  But it is also true in the micro sense, where we see people hurting those they love or at least regard highly, with their interpersonal dramas.
          In The Bold and the Beautiful, everybody is fabulously wealthy.  But in real life, we all struggle to one degree or another to provide for ourselves and our loved ones.  Why doesn’t that stark difference serve, as it might, to help us to differentiate our own lives from those fantasy lives on TV?  Adrian Cronauer, of Good Morning Vietnam fame, once helped me to see why.  He told me about the intense jockeying for position that he’d observed as an enlisted man in the US Air Force.  He told me this very matter-of-factly, but I filed it away as a profound truth:  “The competition is most fierce when there’s so little at stake.”  If we look at the dramas that we see people we know playing out, we can see this principle in action.  When the stakes are low, the backbiting only seems to increase.  One might think that to be counter-intuitive.  But the truth is that, in life, the modesty of resources does not diminish the melodrama.
          The stakes in our lives are lower, at least in the material sense, than those in the lives of the characters on The Bold and the Beautiful.  But in reality, by being lower they are actually higher.  Economics is, at its heart, the science that explores the consequences of the scarcity of resources.  Interpersonal drama is a lot like economics.  At its heart it is all about competition for resources of a different kind.  Some of those resources are intangibles:  things like love and self-esteem.  But the drama hides an essential truth.  Such resources are not limited; they are available in abundance!  The quest for such things, is not a zero-sum game.  But turning it into a zero-sum game adds excitement.  And is therefore something that we do, despite its being counter-intuitive.
          Like Brooke Logan Forrester, played by Katherine Kelly Lang.  Her particular drama is a subplot this week, on The Bold and the Beautiful.  She has been away in Italy for some months.  Having returned to LA, she finds that three different men – Ridge Forrester, Bill Logan, and Deacon Sharpe – with whom she has had relationships in the past are now committed to other women.  Brooke, unable to cope with this, is falling into alcohol abuse to bury the hurt.  The watcher awaits what drama Brooke will create to provide the succour she needs.  Her mistake is the zero-sum fallacy.  She is busy competing with others for ‘limited’ resources – the men she already knows and with whom she has already had relationships and children.  This, instead of looking for love in new places, with the new people she would surely meet if she were trying.

          If we could see this and other fallacies hidden by the drama of such programs as The Bold and the Beautiful, perhaps we could see how we create real-life drama based on fallacies.  And then we would be able to rise above such dramas and relate to one another.  And assuming goodness of intentions, we would also see goodness of results.  I expose these fallacies for this purpose only.  That we would learn to recognise, and therefore transcend them.  Shabbat shalom.

No comments:

Post a Comment