Category: prose

an oil painting with an older man in a suit and hat against the background of a hill and a single tree in the distance

Journal (Wings of Fame)

Published on by Maciej Modzelewski1 Comment

What if your life is only enough for a mere autobiography—perhaps written under a pen name so you could sign it twice—and maybe a footnote in someone else’s? Would you simply accept it or rather bother every poor bastard who happened to sit next to you on the bus with your tarradiddles as you cooked them up in hope of finding your very own charming little spot to survive eternity? I asked myself these exact questions while watching Peter O’Toole in Wings of Fame. There is only a lifetime to find the answer.

an oil painting in the style of René Magritte showing a faceless couple ready to get married

Journal (Love is blind)

Published on by Maciej Modzelewski3 Comments

Montaigne said that “in all republics, a good share of the government has ever been referred to chance. Plato, in the civil regimen that he models according to his own fancy, leaves to it the decision of several things of very great importance, and will, amongst other things, that marriages should be appointed by lot;” (Montaigne, 2004).

Let’s think about that last part for a moment. Apart from the fact that these were supposed to be temporary marriages made at festivals to orchestrate eugenic breeding (Brake, 2021), the whole idea is not without some merit. Our Western culture embraces the idea of marriage for love, but keeping in mind that there is a good chance that it ends in divorce or makes couples unhappy over time (DePaulo, 2013), I’m not convinced that it actually works very well. There is a saying in my native language that perfectly fits that hunch: love is blind, and marriage is the best ophthalmologist.

So why not leave the whole affair in the hands of fate for a change? Who knows, maybe we’ll have better luck in this case than with choices made under the influence of the hormonal storm in our brains. Of course, I realise that this is not actually feasible outside of a thought experiment, and I can see many things that could and most likely would go wrong—I’m not that naive—but I also have a feeling that there is a chance for something good in this as well. Besides, we already use dating app algorithms for matching, so is this really that much of a difference?

Because what is the alternative? Suffer in silence with this stranger whom we call our spouse out of habit, or finally come to terms with the idea that marriage is only a temporary matter and establish this state of affairs legally by creating fixed-term marriage contracts, for example, for a decade, with the possibility of extending them for another period if both parties wish so.

References:
Brake, Elizabeth, “Marriage and Domestic Partnership”, The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy (Fall 2021 Edition), Edward N. Zalta (ed.), https://plato.stanford.edu/archives/fall2021/entries/marriage/
DePaulo, Bella, “Marriage and Happiness: 18 Long-Term Studies”, Psychology Today (15 May 2013), https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/living-single/201303/marriage-and-happiness-18-long-term-studies
Montaigne, Michel de, “Essays of Michel de Montaigne—Complete”, Project Gutenberg (2004), W.C. Hazlitt (ed.), C. Cotton (transl.), https://gutenberg.org/files/3600/3600-h/3600-h.htm

watercolour with a man giving a helping hand to a woman

Journal (Catharsis)

Published on by Maciej Modzelewski1 Comment

Once again, I woke up in the middle of the night and couldn’t sleep. I know it well, and since there is no point in tossing and turning in bed, I got up. Anyway, I’m aware that there are things I need to write about, and this is probably what prevents me from falling asleep again.

First of all, who is this journal written for? This is important because it determines the style and content of all its entries. If the answer is the readers of my blog, where I publish fragments of it, then yesterday’s entry is fully justified. But I don’t think that is the case. I was supposed to be the main focus—my thoughts, ideas, feelings, and dilemmas—all written with myself as the main audience in mind. After all, that is what a journal is all about, isn’t it? With all due respect to the external readers, they are just complementary characters that blend into the background.

And that brings me back to Karen Cinorre’s film. I’ve already seen it, so there is no problem analysing it with all the details I know. Besides, my blog readers could always find the whole plot on the dedicated Wikipedia page.

So, as I see it, apart from the protagonist, the main characters of the film are personifications of the heroine’s feelings after the sexual assault on her: fear, withdrawal, and anger/hatred, with the last one becoming the main driver of the new reality she has fallen into. The island on which the film takes place symbolises her mind, which becomes both a refuge and a prison, and the camps of women all over the island are mental connections with the women victims of sexual abuse all over the world—she hears their voices in many languages brought by the wind and the sound of sea waves.

What brought her to this place were suicidal thoughts, and while on the island, she has to decide whether she will give in to these thoughts or rather find something that will allow her to continue living after what she went through, as well as what feelings will guide her through this rebuilt life. The fact that the director, being a woman, still gave the protagonist’s male friend the privilege of being the beacon that brought the main character back to life shows that men as a gender are not perceived as evil incarnates and that friendship, love, and the most important—life alongside them—are still possible even after such a horrible experience.

This film is cathartic, and I’m glad I had the opportunity to see it. I can’t wait for Karen Cinorre’s next work because she has a very distinctive voice that will not leave you indifferent.

oil painting with two women hugging in sadness (2)

Journal (Mayday)

Published on by Maciej Modzelewski2 Comments

I just finished watching a film that made a huge impression on me. It’s Mayday, written and directed by Karen Cinorre in her feature directorial debut. If this is not a one-time lucky shot, I predict a bright future for her in the world of film. I came across this film by accident and was actually inclined to skip it because it had very poor reviews; for example, IMDb only gave it a 4.4 out of 10 with about 1,800 voters, which suggests a solid rating. Luckily, I listened to my gut and watched it anyway.

It’s a film about the emotional healing of a young woman who is a victim of sexual assault. This whole process is shown as a fantasy story taking place in an alternative reality of a world resembling the world of World War II, but in which women fight against men. Every one of the women has been a victim in the real world, and each deals with the pain in a different way, one of which is killing men in any way possible. They use the radio to send a distress call, and when the male soldiers respond, the women send them the coordinates of the place where the rescue ship is sunk upon arrival (the film takes place over the sea), like sirens leading sailors to the rocks. When the protagonist is attacked again by a male soldier on land, they capture him and then let him run just to hunt him down—the predator becomes the prey.

It is a complex story, with twists that surprise and an ending that brings a glimmer of hope. To give a taste, here are three dialogues that have a lot of importance to the film’s narrative, but without context so as not to give too much away.

Ana (protagonist): I’m an easy target.

Marsha (leader of a group of women): Never say that. You need to stop hurting yourself and start hurting others.

Marsha: Can’t sleep?

Ana: I had a bad dream.

Marsha: Don’t worry. All your dreams will die soon enough.

Marsha: I’ve made you into a hero.

Ana: You’ve made me into a psychopath.

Marsha: It’s the same thing!

oil painting with two women hugging in sadness
Created using AI Bing Image Creator
oil pastels painting of a woman reading at the table

Journal (Never lonely)

Published on by Maciej Modzelewski1 Comment

Reading, generally speaking, is a solitary endeavour, and apart from an occasional marginalia or folded page corner, there is very little that connects you with other readers—nothing beyond the awareness that other lonely souls have also touched these pages. Or so you might think.

Although I love the unique sensation of touching paper, I also appreciate the new opportunities offered by modern technology. For example, my e-book reader displays highlights made by other readers along with information about how many of them found the particular fragment important—the following quote, for instance, has been highlighted fifty-one times: “So it seems that the soul, being transported and discomposed, turns its violence upon itself, if not supplied with something to oppose it, and therefore always requires an object at which to aim, and whereon to act.” (from The Essays of Montaigne—Volume 02 by Michel de Montaigne, in translation of Charles Cotton)

And just like that, I know that there are fifty-one kindred spirits somewhere with whom I can connect in thought. So perhaps when you read, you are alone. But never lonely.

oil portrait of a naked young man

Journal (A naked body)

Published on by Maciej Modzelewski1 Comment

If there’s anything more tedious than a naked body, it’s a documentary about showing it off, and yet here I am, watching one, or at least trying to. But as I wrote the opening sentence, I gave up on the film and decided to read a little about the perception of and attitude towards the body in antiquity, and more specifically in ancient Greece and Rome, instead. I found an interesting series of articles on the subject titled The Body as an Idea in Ancient Greece 101 by Eugenia Ivanova, and I’m already halfway through, but it’s getting late, so I will finish it tomorrow. It’s time to take my naked body to the shower and to bed.

an oil painting with a communist apparatchik and a crowd in the background

Journal (The Power of Taste)

Published on by Maciej Modzelewski3 Comments

Dictators and regimes don’t like distinctive faces. They prey on the inertia of the idle crowd in the background of their own angry countenances, or let’s call them what they really are—ugly phizzes. When I read today about the Iranian regime targeting Iranian activists across Europe with threats and harassment, the first thing that came to mind was a poem by my compatriot, one of the greatest Polish poets, Zbigniew Herbert, titled The Power of Taste (subtitled recording of the poet reading his poem himself). For many, his words were a compass, helping them survive the communist regime in Poland.

The Power of Taste

For Professor Izydora Dąmbska

It didn’t require much character at all
our refusal disagreement and stubbornness
we had a modicum of necessary courage
but ultimately it was a matter of taste
Yes a taste
that contains the fibres of the soul and the cartilage of the conscience

Who knows if we had been tempted better and more beautifully
they would have sent us women pink flat as a wafer
or fantastic creations from the paintings of Hieronymus Bosch
but hell at that time was what
a wet pit an alley of murderers a barrack
called the Palace of Justice
rotgutted Mephisto in Lenin’s jacket
sent Aurora’s grandchildren into the field
boys with potato faces
and very ugly girls with red hands

Indeed their rhetoric was too clumsy
Marcus Tullius was turning in his grave
chains of tautologies a few concepts like flails
dialectic of torturers no distinction in reasoning
syntax devoid of the beauty of conjunctive

So aesthetics can be helpful in life
the study of beauty should not be neglected
Before we declare our accession we must carefully study
the shape of the architecture the rhythm of drums and fifes
the official colours the nefarious ritual of funerals

Our eyes and ears refused to listen
the princes of our senses chose proud exile

It didn’t require much character at all
we had a modicum of requisite courage
but it was basically a matter of taste
Yes a taste
that tells you to leave grimace drawl the sneer
even if it means losing a priceless capital of your body
your head

watercolour of a man walking in the park

Journal (Every little counts)

Published on by Maciej Modzelewski1 Comment

Our modern life is an endless pursuit of new things, but does it really make us happy? Doesn’t the familiar give us a sense of comfort, perhaps even the safety of the mother’s womb? Even when it comes to enemies, the old one is better than the new one, because at least we already know all their tricks. By the way, it reminds me of dialogue from one of the best Polish comedies of all time, Sami swoi (Our Folks), the story of two hostile neighbourly families—the Karguls and the Pawlaks—who meet again in a new place after World War II.

Kazimierz Pawlak (head of the family): Why did you hang your noses like that? If our own people live here, we can live here too.
Leonia Pawlak (his mother): Our own?! Kargul is the worst enemy of all!
Kazimierz Pawlak: Enemy? True, the enemy! But yours, mine, ours—bred on our own blood!
Mania Pawlakowa (his wife): And you couldn’t go anywhere else, ha?
Kazimierz Pawlak: Oh Mania, don’t be nervous; why did we have to look for a new enemy when the old one appeared sideways, ha? Well, that wouldn’t be God’s way.

Of course, I am aware that modern capitalism is based on this endless hunger for the new, and if anything changed, the entire system would collapse like a house of cards. But on the other hand, something has to change because neither we nor our planet will survive the current situation.

My personal life philosophy is based on minimalism in the sphere of needs while using what is given to me to the fullest. Perhaps it is easier for me to live this way because, since I was a child, I have lived in the world of my imagination and the books that nourished it. I don’t feel the need to bask in the sun on the beaches of the Riviera (actually, I would hate it because I don’t tolerate sunny weather very well, and summer has always been the hardest season for me to survive) or touch historic stones (in fact, the sweat from our hands damages them). I don’t have a car because I try to walk everywhere, and when I need to go somewhere further, I use public transport. And there are many other things in my life like this.

It is true that sometimes it’s inconvenient, but it’s a small price to pay for knowing that I’m doing something for the environment. As they say, every little counts.

woman writing a letter

Journal (The forgotten art of writing letters)

Published on by Maciej Modzelewski1 Comment

I miss the mostly forgotten art of writing letters. For centuries, millennia really, epistolography was at the heart of our social life, with letters as one of the means of communication helping maintain relationships and exchange thoughts and ideas, but now the only letters most of us are receiving are notices from the government—even utility bills and bank statements arrive electronically, which is actually a good thing considering the environmental impact—and perhaps Christmas cards. Nowadays, it’s not even email that has taken over, but all kinds of instant messengers on our mobile phones and social networking sites. This fragmented, casual, surface-level communication negatively impacts our ability to formulate more complex thoughts. And, by the way, our reading habits don’t help either.

I just looked at the clock on my dresser and realised it took me an hour to write this paragraph. What happened to me? Why am I so distracted? After all, for years, writing was my daily bread because I earned my living as a journalist. And now this! I really hope this journal will help prevent further degradation.