by Sonny Saul
CHAPTER ONE:
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“It is only those kinds of truths—the truths that cannot be proved and that, in fact, are ‘false’, those that one cannot, without seeming absurd, carry to their ultimate conclusions, without arriving at the negation both of the truths themselves and of oneself—these are the truths that ought to be exalted by any work of art. They will never have the good fortune—or the misfortune—to be one day applied. May they live by the song that they have become and that they inspire.”
Jean Genet
Kama Mara: Commanding aspect, relaxed demeanor, regal self-esteem, calm power…a venerable being, but most cheerful and amiable.
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Kama Mara and his daughters
On the horizon of what has become a reverie, I apprehend, again from outside of the ‘picture frame’, something like the advent of a revelation. Commanding aspect and relaxed demeanor (unusual combination) communicate the presence of an individual of the highest rank. Regal self-esteem, calm power, and composure identify more than the physical resemblances (which I notice next and his age) the girls’ father.
As he makes his entrance upon ‘the stage’, the girls are dressing. Regret, the youngest, is confiding to her sisters, “Look at our bodies! We’ve earned the privilege of representing happiness, beauty, and benevolence.” She laughed, “Listen to me, How like Father I’ve become!”
“Life does become HARDER,” Fulfillment understood; her voice rose melodically, almost before her younger sister’s voice had fallen. “One can lose EASE approaching the heights.”
“Responsibility increases, no matter how it appears to others.” Desire, the eldest, authoritatively finished the thought.
The contrapuntal mode of the girl’s speech is independent but always in relation.
“But, don’t you know, a good time may still be had at the higher levels!” A contrasting baritone enters, as if from inside his own solar system.
Father; barefooted, wearing a loose white cotton dhoti and colored turban, greets daughters.
A venerable being—but most cheerful and amiable—confidently following his own inner momentum, laughing, lifting his hands and placing his feet as if existence were somehow a joyful tragedy, Kama Mara establishes his tone.
“An individual, like an animal or a species becomes corrupt when it loses its instincts; the deep instincts of life,
when what is disadvantageous is chosen … preferred,
when experiencing the joy of life is treated as a wrong path …
when pleasure is actually sought in what would normally be misfortune.
That’s life against life!
And they call me a devil.”
Alive with metaphor, creating freshly each word, endowing all with the power of significance freshly perceived, Kama Mara reanimates the universe. With felt pride in his admirable daughters, he steps forward, embracing his eldest and says, “Desire; the strongest, brightest flower born of the primary force of nature!”
As if he is performing a ritual or pronouncing a blessing, Kama Mara, bows, takes the hands of his middle daughter to say, “Nature’s most beautiful fruition … when Fulfillment succeeds Desire.”
Allowing rhythmic space, first for silence, and then for the stillness within movement, he arrives before his youngest saying, “Regret, you must know all our names are prophecies.”
Extending his arms and torso as if to catch and collect light and then, alternatively to tuck it quickly away, he begins a series of very slow revolutions. Combining the spontaneous with the well practiced, he gradually traces a wider circle around Desire, Fulfillment, and Regret who stand together enjoying and admiring their father’s profound and mysterious playfulness.
All the while moving, Kama Mara is speaking. “As if one could withdraw into ‘another world’ even a metaphysical one. Of course the sit-abouts in the forest grove have it inside out. Anyone can tell, they don’t value thought.”
Laughing he came to a stop, “And they would define us!” Moving in, close to the girls again, he pronounced his own name, “Kama Mara”. “Will to power in the presence of death—doesn’t my name include that meaning as well as suggesting some nightmare? Like all our names, the one that I have chosen for myself, defines me. “
With a gesture of agile flourish worthy of an acrobat, Kama Mara executed several quick spinning tumbles and then suddenly he became very still. Squatting low to the ground, he let his weight fall on his heels. Elbows in and palms pressed together between the knees, he awaited or summoned new energies. His exposition complete.
If we were to imagine this scene as if it were a ballet, the rising posture of Kama Mara would announce a new movement about to begin. The graceful, rhythm of the girls as they space themselves around their father, might raise the orchestra’s voice.
Or, if this were that rare creation, a ballet—opera, Kama Mara might, moving about mysteriously, begin to sing, grandly, his voice at its lowest pitch,
“When our ancestors lived most richly,
thought most profoundly,
spirituality found its heights, its many-sided and constant fruition.”
And then breaking off into an aside, “What a great error to suppose such a rich crop could grow upon impoverished soil, with life half killed, intellect discouraged, and intimidated! Under such conditions… any growth would only be morbid.”
Changing his tone and posture, pausing to indicate a second strain, Kama Mara issues a call, which invites response; “Comparison with past greatness reveals pervasive decadence.”
Desire, as if the leader of a chorus, answers first. “Nowhere have we seen reflected around us the bittersweet spirit of languor. Nowhere the playful creativity… “
“Nowhere the developed aesthetic sensibilities applied to all spheres of life.” Regret breaks in.
“Nowhere the capacity for careful organization that is our BIRTHRIGHT!” Fulfillment’s contralto rises where Regret’s soprano falls.
As the figures regroup themselves to form a fresh tableau, I thought about how Mozart was able to create music in several interwoven parts from a single text, especially a DaPonte libretto. That’s how I want to hear the voices here; particularly the girls.
“Nowhere,” Regret’s youthful sound would be the ideal of a boy soprano. “The real sense and spirit the vitality.”
“Instead,” Fulfillment’s full alto stressed her lower register, “only relics of the forms of past greatness.”
Desire (the mezzo): “I’ll understood fragments of past knowledge, petrified intellect
Fulfillment: “…Herd animals…”
Desire: “Renouncing what they call ‘life’, they pronounce themselves ‘holy men.’ They are the real “lords of death.”
“…Following the dictates of self torture… “
“ … And self adulation… self adulation!”
“…Crouching low, moving about by hopping, living in filth—”
“…Feeding on cow dung—”
“…Drinking their own urine—”
Kama Mara’s baritone, punctuating and echoing, had supported the ensemble harmonically. They concluded the movement in quartet.
“What do they call their highest value?
“Tapas; What is it?
a self killing.
This is the meaning of perversion…
Thankfully Manu has not lived to see it.”
Letting their music settle, again giving silence place, Kama Mara returned to the recitative style, Beginning to pace about rhythmically, he introduced new narrative material.
“Our natural gifts have protected and preserved our spirits.
Though we are no longer understood to be,
We are the aboriginal people.
Older even than the ancient ruined cities of the Sindhu and Sarasvati Valleys,
We trace our heritage back to Manu and the Seven Great Rishis—
and then further back,,, ”
"We will enact
true drama and believe in it."
Breaking off almost abruptly, he said, more prosaically, “Our history extends far beyond what is known here.”
Now with a full bass voice that seemed to come from out of nowhere, Kama Mara called “Desire, Fulfillment, Regret! Are you ready? Prepare your costumes, your adivasis, scarves, veils, the make up for our ceremony. To the forest grove! We’ll perform for the stinking renunciates. With our ritual we’ll invoke the ancient lore. When the evening light is most beautiful we will enact true drama and believe in it!”