“There
was a great drought where the missionary Richard Wilhelm lived in China. There
had not been a drop of rain and the situation became catastrophic. The
Catholics made processions, the Protestants made prayers, and the Chinese
burned joss sticks and shot off guns to frighten away the demons of the
drought, but with no result. Finally the Chinese said: We will fetch the rain
maker. And from another province, a dried up old man appeared. The only thing
he asked for was a quiet little house somewhere, and there he locked himself in
for three days. On the fourth day clouds gathered and there was a great
snowstorm at the time of the year when no snow was expected, an unusual amount,
and the town was so full of rumors about the wonderful rain maker that Wilhelm
went to ask the man how he did it.
In true
European fashion he said: "They call you the rain maker, will you tell me
how you made the snow?" And the little Chinaman said: "I did not make
the snow, I am not responsible." "But what have you done these three
days?" "Oh, I can explain that. I come from another country where
things are in order. Here they are out of order, they are not as they should be
by the ordnance of heaven. Therefore the whole country is not in Tao, and I am
also not in the natural order of things because I am in a disordered country.
So I had to wait three days until I was back in Tao, and then naturally the
rain came."
What
this little fable tells us is nothing more and less this: that everything in this
world is about balance and harmony and that when this has been found,
everything else will take care of itself. Depending on what your views or
beliefs are, you may find this either incredibly logical or outlandish,
although in my experience, most people seem to experience a strange combination
of the two: they can rationally understand the moral of the story and can give
very few arguments against it, but are at the same time not able to actually
apply it to their daily lives and live it accordingly. Therefore, there’s an
immediate gap between what they understand and feel which would make any
attempt at real harmony impossible. This should sound obvious, but
unfortunately isn’t as obvious to most as it should be.
It may
sound crude to use my grandmother in law as an example, but she’s such a
perfect example of everything I try to describe here, so I hope I may be
forgiven. As I already said in an earlier post on this blog, I have only
recently become aware of my deep ecological feelings which led to a rather
profound change in my life. It began with a ten day period of detoxing in which
I cleansed my body from all the accumulated waste and after this I’ve radically
altered my diet: now I only eat biological and organic food, stopped eating
meat, cut out most of the bread and try to use a little sugar as possible. The
results were directly visible: not only was there a huge increase in physical
fitness and mental clarity, I also lost about 13 kilo’s in less than two months
(perhaps I should add that my boyfriend lost the exact same amount in the same
period, which should more or less rule out the possibility that I’m some physical
wonder). My weight loss was noticed by everybody around me, including granny
but when she asked me how I managed it and I told her the simple truth, she
quite simply refused to believe me. To her, the only logical explanation of my
sudden loss of weight could be something like self-imposed starvation, but
really nothing could be further from the truth: I literally eat what I feel
like and certainly don’t eat less than before – if anything I even eat more
than before. It’s just that I eat differently and only things my body can
handle properly, so it can take care of the rest of its functions like the
burning of fat. When I confronted granny with this, there was a problem: on the
one hand she just couldn’t believe what I told her to be true (because it goes
against everything she has ever believed in), but at the same time, she
couldn’t very well call me a liar to my face. So there she was, visibly torn
between her feelings and the actual facts and because she couldn’t reconcile
these two she did what everybody does who can’t cope with a certain fact: she
just blocks it out, trying to pretend it’s not there. So, first she herself
creates a mental blockade because of her lack of mental harmony and then she
has to block out this blockade, with my sudden loss of weight magically
disappearing somewhere along the line, mysteriously unaccounted for.
Here we
have a clear illustration of the two principles described above: first, if you
just bring your body in harmony the rest gets taken care of, because every
organism is self-organizing, IF you just give it the chance to do so (which is
exactly what Taoism says). And second, how far Western civilization has drifted
away from such an almost self-explanatory assertion and the troubled, split
attitude most people take towards it: because although people saw the physical
evidence of my Taoist principle, they quite simply refused to believe this
could be so. So they saw and understood one thing, while actually feeling the
exact opposite and as long as we refuse to bring these two principles in
harmony we will never find the road to mental sanity. It is this fundamental
split in Western consciousness that forms the basis of the lack of true balance
and harmony. Of course, that this is clearly the root of all our ecological
problems (you just have to remember that the title of ‘Koyaanisqatsi’ means
‘live out of balance’), is something most people can agree on. But it really
goes much deeper than that and for instance also contaminates our complete
educational system. As cosmologist Brian Swimme puts it in ‘The Hidden Heart of
the Cosmos’:
“I do
not know of any science department in the American system of higher education
where a change of perception is the primary aim of the curriculum. Our focus
has always been dominated by the central task of accumulating and producing
knowledge. Learning to actually experience a dynamic evolving universe does
occur, but always in a haphazard manner as a by-product of the primary focus.
What I am suggesting is that such a transformation of one’s subjectivity might
become an explicit goal in the next millennium, not to be considered as a
replacement but as a completion of the traditional goal of knowledge
acquisition.
My aim
here is not to simply hand over information as if I were passing on a sheaf of
papers from me to you. My aim is to present the birthplace of the universe in a
way that invites you to participate in an inner transformation. It would be a
great thing if a person learned the facts of the new story. But even greater
would be to take the first steps into living
the new story. We study the story primarily in order to live the story.”
With
this, Swimme cuts to the very essence of everything that’s wrong with our
system of education: facts are just presented without any consideration to how
we can give all these little facts a place in the life of the students. Nobody
seems to be interested (with a few exceptions of course), how we can make this
transition from mere learning of facts to really living them and this has
always been one of the main reasons why I’ve always felt unhappy during my
studies and actually dropped out prematurely partly because of this. Even
though I couldn’t have articulated it as clearly back then, I always
intuitively felt this huge gap between feeling and thinking, between learning
and living should be closed and not once during all my time at school did I
feel this was taken care of. This has always put me in a spot, because I’ve
always felt I’ve been living between two worlds: I’ve never felt really at home
with people of average intelligence, mainly because my interests have always
veered toward the more intellectual things. At the same time I always feel at
sea with intellectual people too, because even though we may share the same
interests, the way we approach these things is fundamentally different. I know
quite a lot highly intelligent and educated people who know all the theories
and facts they’ve been taught and are brilliant in explaining these concepts,
all the while failing to apply these same concepts to their own life in any
meaningful way. They usually make me think of one of the characters from
Richard Linklater’s magnificent ‘Slacker’, a guy who’s constantly sprouting the
words of all kinds of intellectuals and when someone says to him ‘you don’t
have any thought of yourself, you just reproduce what you’ve read’, she says
exactly what I always feel. This broad distinction between thinking and feeling
may feel much too schematic for most people and I’ve had people criticize me
for just that; obviously everybody can think and everybody can feel, I’m not at
all disputing that, but all too often these two qualities more or less exist on
top of each other, like oil on water. To me, the balance always seems off, with
people clearly leaning towards either a cerebral or an emotional attitude. What
I’m interested in is a true synthesis of feeling and thinking, so that they
actually work together instead of against each other and where the distinction
between rational thinking and gut feeling disappears. In short, that everything
revolves around harmony.
Which,
finally, brings us to our film in question, ‘Teacher’s Pet’. At first glance it
may seem little more than yet another screwball comedy, this time with the
rather unlikely pairing of Doris Day and Clark Gable (in a late day triumph),
which it also is, at least in part. Obviously, with Gable playing yet another
hardnosed newspaper reporter, the movie harks back to his major breakthrough
‘It Happened One Night’ (1932), on which ‘Teacher’s Pet’ is basically yet
another riff. But the movie very cleverly uses the conventions of the screwball
genre to drive home points which are very similar to my little story about
harmony and balance. Of course, in a way every screwball comedy does this,
because they all are about two people from very different background who must
learn to negotiate their differences in order to end up together. But in a
sense, you could say a lot of these movies are more about ignoring these
differences than in really reconciling them: each party should give in somewhat
so the road to marital bliss lies open (again). ‘Teacher’s Pet’ in
contrast seems to be more interested in
harmony and balance than in steering the middle course (the two are clearly
related but far from the same, with harmony implying the synthesis which middle
course lacks). Also because it’s not just a love story between Day and Gable,
the stakes are raised considerably higher: the movie has also quite a lot to
say about Western society and its lack of balance.
Gable,
not surprisingly, plays the world-wise and self-educated reporter who basically
lives by the famous dictum from ‘Showgirls’ which says “an MBA is a degree
which you get in college and which is mostly useless in the real world”. At the
very beginning of the movie he is approached by a worried mother who pleads
with him to fire her son, so he could go back to college, a request Gable can
only scoff at because he himself has done pretty well without education.
Gable’s self-confidence is then of course complicated quite a bit when he is
sent to a night school class where he encounters Doris Day’s teacher. When seen
in purely schematic terms, it should be clear by now that Gable represents all
the virtues of the school of life and Day stands for all the wonders of a
formal education. But since this movie is all about harmony and balance, it
quickly makes clear that while both positions have their strong points, both
are also inherently weak in themselves. To become whole then, it’s imperative
for both characters to be open to what the other represents, which is clearly
the hardest thing to do: at first Gable is only interested in Day as a sex
object, thereby blithely ignoring the possibility of her having to say
something. Similarly, when Gable gives Day a hard time during one of her
lectures, she rather weakly replies he should enroll in the class first. In
both instances, the two characters are essentially trying to protect their
comfort zones to avoid real openness to the world around them. Balance also
means being open to change, a point Day makes when she says to Gable ‘your kind
of reporting went out with prohibition’. She has a point here of course, since
Gable is still stuck in his familiar thirties kind of reporting, while radio
and TV in the fifties can report news much quicker than the printed press ever
can, which necessarily also should change the role of newspapers.
But even
though both characters are at this early point of the movie not yet able to be
truly open to change and everything around them, the beauty of Taoism is
already silently working its magic. Because the moment Gable and Day meet
balance is restored almost immediately: whether they like it or not, both
worlds begin to contaminate each other, starting to render both more complete.
For instance, when Day asks Gable what he would like to tackle next, he
suggestively blows smoke at her ass, thereby introducing some love and feeling
(and just plain lust) into her restricted and cold academic world. Reversely,
suddenly Gable wants a ‘think piece’ for his paper (which they never use, we
are told) only after being told by Day that the why behind a story should be
more important than the what or when, which of course introduces some deepening
of thought into his street life.
What the
movie basically proposes then, is the bridging of the gap between learning and living
Brian Swimme spoke about. Learning facts can be a great thing and can greatly
enhance a person’s life, but can ultimately never mean anything when it isn’t
used directly for living. Conversely, the virtues that can be gained from
living can never reach truly great heights until they are infused with knowledge
and the virtues of analysis. A line of dialogue which illustrates this point
most clearly comes from the Gig Young character: “To me, journalism is like a
hangover: you can read about it for years, but until you’ve experienced it you
have no idea what it is”. We (and Gable) first meet this character in a bar and
at first he seems almost superhuman: he has the ability to laugh at himself, is
able to talk sports, knows his dancing, knows all about different cultures and
even claims (preposterously, but hilariously) he can mentally control the
effect of liquor. This obviously feels very threatening to Gable, who instantly
develops an inferiority complex, until Young gets outside and rather foolishly
takes a few deep breaths of night air only to drop to the ground unconscious.
In one fell swoop he is transformed from superman to schlemiel, because for all
his knowledge he apparently doesn’t even have sense enough to know that liquor
and oxygen don’t really go together. The rest of the movie he is seen giving
intellectually sound advice, while all the while struggling with mundane and
earthly things like a hangover.
With
this, Gig Young typically follows the pattern of the humorous but inadequate
sidekick who’s basically only there as a contrast for our two protagonists and
the proper task of finding the necessary harmony is, of course, up to Gable and
Day. But in order to reach this state of harmony, they have to learn to truly
open themselves up and let go of their preconceived notions. This process can
be frightening and exhilarating, often at the same time because new awareness
will throw everything out of whack. It may seem rather pretentious of me to use
a passage from a mathematical cosmologist in relation to a Hollywood screwball
comedy, but I want to refer again to Brian Swimme. He uses the metaphor of the
relation between the earth and the sun for the gap between feeling and thinking
we’ve been talking about and how most people take this for granted. Because
when we say ‘the sun goes down’, this is obviously not true, because the earth
actually revolves around the sun and not vice versa. The fact that even our
language bears out this confusion is highly significant, because it shows how
deep-seated the gap between what we rationally know and (seem to) see really is
and until these contradictions are truly resolved, no real harmony can be
possible. So Swimme goes on to describe a method of actually experiencing the
fact the earth goes under instead of the sun and when the experiment has been
successful he says:
“As
before, a new awareness will come in a sudden shift where a door opens and you
feel yourself sliding into an unsuspected and disorienting awareness. It is
disorienting not in the sense of an irritated confusion – for the experience is
not at all irritating but on the contrary is usually breathtaking. It is
disorienting in the sense of a bottom dropping away, as if for the first time
in your life you have closed your eyes and leapt into a body of cool water and are
suddenly turning about weightless without toes or fingers touching any ground.”
I really
love the idea that Swimme actually uses the metaphor where someone closes his eyes in order to see more
clearly, but apart from that, I was struck at how his description actually fits
some scenes from ‘Teacher’s Pet’. Arguably, the feeling may not be quite so
breathtaking for the Gable and Day characters in the movie (at least not at
first), but the sense of disorienting awareness applies directly to the movie.
Both characters have to be obliterated completely in order to rebuild their new
selves on the ashes of their own pasts, thereby shedding new light on
everything they’ve ever known or thought they knew. Gable actually talks about
this at length, in his scene with Young, a passage which is worth quoting in
full:
“It’s
not what I’ve done, it’s what she’s done to me. Before, I had contempt for
eggheads like her and you. Well, I was wrong, brother was I wrong. But at least
I was definitely wrong. I was an obstinate, prejudiced, inconsiderate,
cold-hearted louse! But at least I was something! Now that I’ve learned to
respect your kind I’m just a big understanding remorseful slob. A complete
zero.
You
don’t know what it is to live one way all your life, confident that you’re
right and then suddenly find out that you’re all wrong. I’m like a guy whose
house burned down, I’ve got no place to go.”
Day goes
through a similar crisis of self-doubt when she suddenly realizes the father
she’d always placed on a pedestal and which she had a habit of quoting in her
classes, was nothing more than a passionate hack. She, like Gable, is reduced
to a complete zero which may be a quite painful process to go through, but one
from which she only can emerge a better and more complete person. Or in other
words, whether they like it or not, both Day and Gable have to let the other
person and what they represent into their lives. Because only when formal
education is reconciled with the knowledge of living can both begin to mean
something. Two bits of dialogue from the movie illustrate this beautifully:
early in the movie Day says “Education means that you can spell experience
correctly” and later Gable chimes in with “Experience is the jockey, education
the horse”. When taken separately, they may seem a bit pretentious, but
together they suddenly form a synthesis: the first quote emphasizes the
necessity of education, while the second approaches the same problem with a
sports metaphor. Both say the same thing, but only together can they really
mean anything.
The
beauty of all this if that none of this is actually accomplished by doing
anything, which is highly irregular for an American movie. Because basically,
the only thing Day and Gable have to do is be around each other and open up and
the universe will weave its magic by itself. If we accept the basic difference
between West and East is the difference between doing and being, it makes
‘Teacher’s Pet’ an almost Oriental film which its constant emphasis on being
instead of acting. Whether or not this was a conscious attempt from the writers
I do not know, nor is it very interesting. One thing Hollywood practice has in
common with oriental thought is the cyclical nature of all things, because
‘Teacher’s Pet’ has also been composed around a beautiful cyclical logic: the
mother from the start of the movie approaches Gable again and thanks him for
honoring the request he refused at the beginning. But unlike quite a lot of
similar movies, where the differences between characters is more of less glossed
over, these two characters have actually made a profound change during the
movie. So, that when the movie ends with Day lighting a cigarette for Gable, in
a manner very reminiscent of Howard Hawks, you realize the walking away at the
end of the lovers signifies a true synthesis of two human beings and
complementary values instead of ´just´ a new couple. It also makes you wonder
who exactly has been the teacher and who the pet. But of course, with true
harmony and openness such a question is completely irrelevant, because
influence always works both ways.
Available
on DVD from Paramount
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