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For want of a better term, I have been indulging in a bit of what the religious tend to call soul searching, -- asking myself . . . what is really and truly important to me?
The first thing that occurred to me was my proclivity for judging others. To observe other people and compare their overt activities to what I, within my secret thoughts, believe to be proper or correct. As in...
Yesterday I was able to once again watch one of my all-time favorite movies, Gigot (pronounced JEE-go, I think) and was once again reminded of how easily a person (myself included, myself especially) can be lulled into self-righteousness. How we, unless always alert to human failings, sneer at the (zany antics, we call them) unfortunate foibles of those we brand as inferior to ourselves.
Gigot (Jackie Gleason) is, in this movie, a Parisian janitor who is mute and docile, a noble simpleton kicked around by uncaring society. Yet he is tenderly human: He frequents all local funerals and never fails to cry. When he finds a local prostitute (Katherine Kath) and her bright-eyed daughter Nicole (Diane Gardner) sheltering in his doorway he takes them into his home. The lumbering giant and wee Nicole become fast friends, and Gigot finally has a family. But how long will this happiness last?
I had seen this 1963 film only one time before, and thought that it was one of the most bittersweet movies I'd ever seen.
And I then remembered another time I had seen Jackie Gleason in an extremely sad role... that of an aging Army Master Sergeant Maxwell Slaughter in the Steve McQueen movie, Soldier In The Rain.
For those who have never seen it, below is a review of this oldie but goodie.
Film critic Craig Butler wrote about the film's theme, "An absorbing film that deserves to be much better known, Soldier in the Rain is a sometimes uneasy blend of comedy and drama that doesn't always quite come off, but has so much going for it that one is glad to overlook its flaws. A buddy picture set in the peacetime Army.
Soldier is concerned with how a strong friendship can develop between two people of differing personalities and aims. Jackie Gleason and Steve McQueen are different types, and the fact that they have such a strong bond may at first seem unlikely, but as the film progresses it somehow seems natural and inevitable. Blake Edwards and Martin Richlin have done an excellent job of adapting William Goldman's novel, and together with director Ralph Nelson have opted to emphasize the character aspects of the material over the plot.
Anyway, my soul-searching led me to the above thoughts, and for some reason I decided to include them in today's blog entry.
I had entered my seventies before I realized, with a surprising flash of insight, that I had spent a lifetime in ignorance of how I appeared through the eyes of most of the people interacting with me day by day, or at least week by week.
Less than two years ago, and for no apparent reason, I suddenly came to know without a doubt that the man (let's call him George) who delivered our wintertime heating fuel for most of my young adult years not only did not like me (though he successfully pretended to) but he actually disliked me... despised me. I was, you see, the antithesis of himself. He was a steady, hard working, church going, law abiding citizen everybody in town liked and respected.
I was not.
More to come at another time . . . in one form or another.
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WORD FOR TODAY
soul
noun
A soul -- in certain spiritual, philosophical, and psychological traditions -- is the incorporeal essence of a person.
I think of soul as being the basic me of my self. And that's all. I do not equate it with the idea of spirit as do some people, but merely the core of myself. No more than that.
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BORN ON THIS DAY IN HISTORY
Born April 9, 1926_____
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A little sincerity is a dangerous thing, and a great deal of it is absolutely fatal.
--Oscar Wilde
Gene, This post was, to me, one the *most* interesting bits of self-reflection I've read from you. As to your thoughts regarding the notion of "soul," I wonder if you believe that a "we" exists, as in a force that connects all of us and so is, in essence, our spiritual source. That word, "spiritual," if I know you at all, may well get in your way; but I see the notion of soul as having nothing at all to do with self (i.e. ego), and everything to do with us. Call me crazy if you will, but inside this old body I now own lives a mind that sometimes suspects that *we* are god.
ReplyDeleteAfter reading Robert Heinlein's Stranger In A Strange Land back in the 1960s I thought how nice it would be if "Thou art God" were true, so I can envision the concept of "we" as being God that you propose, but I cannot accept it as being anything more than a concept, a pretty invention of the human imagination.
DeleteI view biological life (including human life) as nothing more than a natural occurrence within a location wherein such life 'can' and thusly 'did' appear. I believe this because it seems to me to be the most logical conclusion available given the state of human knowledge at the present time.
But then, "I am only an egg."
Trying to express a 'belief' in written form is difficult for me. I never seem able to "say what I mean" so that the reader can grasp my ideas without some degree of misunderstanding.
Thank you for the provocative comment, Anthony. I appreciate it more than I can tell you.