12 Angry Men - a meandering on some of the jurors

 
    Watched 12 Angry Men this afternoon, and it made quite an impression on me. Much has been written about it, given its near seventy years since it hit the cinemas first ( I will link some of the reviews I liked best, so that I can return to them - and you the reader, may read it). I will only make a few comments which I feel mention.

Juror no. 9, clearly the oldest man in the jury, beside making some salient points which contribute towards tilting the vote in favour of 'not guilty'. He makes an a comment about an old witness who has supposedly overheard the threats and seen the accused running away from the scene. He makes the below observation:

"It's just that I looked at him for a very long time. The seam of his jacket was split under the arm. Did you notice that? He was a very old man with a torn jacket, and he carried two canes. I think I know him better than anyone here. This is a quiet, frightened, insignificant man who has been nothing all his life, who has never had recognition—his name in the newspapers. Nobody knows him after seventy-five years. That's a very sad thing. A man like this needs to be recognized. To be questioned, and listened to, and quoted just once. This is very important."

And it got me thinking - some of the things that juror contributes to the seventy-five year old man, may very well be attributes that he, the juror, himself has felt. An old man who has never made an impression.

This trait of seeing themselves in others can be detected with other characters too. Juror no. 5, who confesses that he is from a similar background, probably had that on his mind when he initially voted as guilty. Maybe he wanted more to be not guilty of favouring someone from his background, than evaluate the exact circumstances.

Juror 3 is the last one tilt over, and it is clear that he has a grievance, a love-hate relationship with his son, who he has not seen in two years, a case of "cat's in the cradle" if you will, but more due to his attempt to "make a man" on his son. Does that hint that personal demons are the hardest to fight against ? After all even the obvious bigot is won over by juror no.8, played by Henry Fonda.

Which brings us to the photograph of the scene that I have captured for this scene. An excellent depiction of how everyone distances ( as they should ) from the bigoted, who has the most negative impact on the healing of any situation.

All in all, an excellent movie, which I may return to once in a while.

Some of the reviews which caught my eye - based on which I decided not to mention some of the things that have been said before. ( mind - am sure my observations here aren't original. Am sure they have been said before. Just that I didn't come across them).

Rating: *****

https://theindependentcritic.com/12_angry_men
https://www.rogerebert.com/reviews/great-movie-12-angry-men-1957
https://theindependentcritic.com/12_angry_men

A mental trip to understand why books like "James" by Percival Everett are written

At the start let me state that this is not a review of the book, although some traits of a review may have forced itself in. Plus, if a book encourages a further discussion with one's self, I guess that too is tantamount to the success of the book. Anyway, let's start with a quote from the book: 

“I considered the northern white stance against slavery. How much of the desire to end the institution was fueled by a need to quell and subdue white guilt and pain? Was it just too much to watch? Did it offend Christian sensibilities to live in a society that allowed that practice? I knew that whatever the cause of their war, freeing slaves was an incidental premise and would be an incidental result.”

It is the second time in 3-4 months that I came across a similar argument regarding injustices set upon a group of people by another group. The previous instance was in Babel, by R.F. Kuang. In fact it was subtitled "The Necessity of Violence". In James too there is a justification of the necessity of violence, for the victim had no other alternative, and no amount of guilt, confession, or 'righting the wrong' decades or even a hundred years or so past the actual events could bring solace to those who suffered. I am aware of only two books which hold such a stance (these two), and there is in all probability many more.

 “I did not look away. I wanted to feel the anger. I was befriending my anger, learning not only how to feel it, but perhaps how to use it.”  

In life, after a long time of the actual event, a mental revisit gives  time to reflect on how the victims should've reacted to minimize the damage that they endured, if not actually save themselves from death. I see this trait in James, as well as in Babel. Freshly upon reading Babel I felt that it was a book which served little purpose in rebuilding bridges, and said as much. It is not about rebuilding bridges at all - for they have been built decades back thankfully. But rather a personal reflection, a guilt trip for the sake of one's ancestors - those who were severely wronged. Everett uses the ideas of Voltaire's Polygenism, or that of John Locke in discussion with James in his dreams, to further press home, what to me are the main grounds for this book. True, that Everett has used the platform of a classic text to build his alternative narration ( and largely a good one at that). But my reading of the the intent of this novel ( or even novels like this), is to revisit those grave injustices (in which stereotyping of a certain group of people appears to be prevalent ) and ipso facto hint a blame to ones' ancestors for not fighting hard enough, or for not fighting with the necessary skill set (i.e. cleverness, violence, ruthlessness). 

One could extend this argument against the eating of meat, I reflect. Although we are unable to read the minds, and hence the fear of animals from their senses, beyond a level which is obvious to humanity - if ever there comes a time that advanced technology offers a chance for us to read their minds (and by that time eating meat is more abhorred than now - similar to a level racism has reached now), maybe we all would be revealed to be as guilty as Judge Thacher in "James" or Letty Price in "Babel". We wouldn't be able to argue that we didn't know enough to counter-argue - we will only be able to accept that we weren't brave enough to revolt, or our love for the meat of other animals was too strong to stand against our sense of compassion, and fairness. I will plead guilty even now.

Maybe as humanity reaches exaltation, it carries with it the collective guilt of many people as the fuel to drive it that far.

War Crimes - Peter Carey

I picked up this short story collection, with some expectations, given the author's high credentials. Previously, short stories by renowned novelists have not failed me. This dragged on for over three months for its completion, as I gave it only the scantiest of reading slots, given that after  a promising start, most of the stories adopt a mixture of the Dystopian and the absurd - and reads as if the true interpretation is hidden under those layers. I for one am doubtful if the labours in any deciphering such meaning is worthy of my time, in a book of this nature.

Let's take a peak at few of the short stories ( It has a total of 13 - which too is a problem as I felt it was too long a collection ).

The Journey of a Lifetime : Is a short story I felt a lot. Mr. Moon, absorbed in his own hobbies looks forward to his one chance in his life time for a much cherished first class train journey. However he finds in the middle of his journey that his sacrifice has been in vain. The story is rich with nuances on how the rich are meted special treatment, and how for those who aspire that treatment at much personal cost, don't always receive the just rewards. Money may buy one special treatment, but still one is not immune from deception.

"Do you love me?" : Is a short story with a dystopian background. As the title of the story suggest, temporary power may not be able to protect one in times of crisis, as we find characters in this story begging for love to protect themselves, and how at times loving someone is difficult irrespective of how much one wants to. Other than the message that the story carries, the reader may feel that short story may fall of its literary expectations.

The Uses of Williamson Wood :

"People do not love those whose eyes show that they are somewhere else. Her mother had not liked it. Her mother's lovers, in varying degrees, had been enraged or irritated by her withdrawals. She had learned not to hear their words or feel their blows."

The protagonist in this story lives withdrawn in her own fantasy, as a ploy to save herself from the suffering. Clearly she is a little simple minded such that she cannot get away using the windfall that comes her way, but rather resorts to a meaningless petty revenge which brings upon everyone's downfall. Enjoyed reading this story.

A Schoolboy Prank :

Although one of the better short stories I've so far come to find in this collection, three former students meet their former teacher - who back then coached them of firmness as men, and the controlling of emotions. But soon the students and the teacher resort to subtle insults, each of their homosexual tendencies - the students in their adolescence, but for the teacher clearly a life long closeted one. The former students, now all in respectable positions aren't ready to reminded of their early teen affections, while the teacher, now old,is a lonely beaten man, who secretly isn't able overcome the loss of his dog.

He Found her in Late Summer : 

This story is a rare non-Dystopian short story, and reads close to a realistic one. A girl who appears to have been the victim of her life style, is found by a hermit like man living in full appreciation of the river and natural life surrounding it. The story has its charm in the slow turn as Dermott shows immense patience, in waiting for the girl to make her own decision on how she wants to continue her life. Here too an ancient volume on draculas bring the book an element of shadow to its relative realism.

Most of the remaining eight  short stories are steeped in Dystopian worlds and didn't quite capture my fancy. They felt like rather whimsical efforts toward how power affects people - those who are holding it and those who are under it, and reads like written with that intent, at the cost of whatever literary pleasure that the better stories in this collection - which are not quite a handful  - deliver. 

Clearly, this collection didn't deliver whatever literary pleasure that I had expected, given the author's credentials, despite one or two good short stories. But "Journey of a Lifetime" clearly can stand neck to neck with other good short stories.

Rating: **1/2

 

In the Skin of a Lion - Michael Ondaatje

 Besides his memoir, "Running in the Family", with "In the Skin of Lion", I've now read four of Ondaatje's novels - ( am set to reread "The English Patient" next year, given its more than fifteen years since I read that book, and then followed up by watching the movie, plus it is kind of a sequel to this.) - and with each novel, am more and more impressed with the poetic scenes he paints with his words. In "In the Skin of a Lion", Ondaatje writes about Toronto, about the people who build it - largely the unnamed, and taken for granted immigrant community, who gave their best years, and at times their lives, to see the materializing of the dreams of those who dreamed grand plans for the city of Toronto. Ondaatje, from his research mentions not only millionaires like Ambrose Small ( and fictionalizes his post disappearance life), but  Rowland Harris, the Architect of the City and The Comissioner of Works for Toronto for 33 years,  a  character present across the decades presented in book, as well as  in the climax of the fiction. But it is not only the likes of Small and Harris that Ondaatje gives room to in his novel, but also others - from Harris' hired photographer Arthur Gross to Nicholas Temelcoff - a fictionalized character, although records confirm of a Macedonian immigrant of that name. The part of the narration where the protagonist (yes, we do have a protagonist in Patrick Lewis - who to me was the thread that wove through the story of  Toronto, and was hence a useful tool ) befriends the Macedonians through his involvement with the Leftist Artiste/Actress Alice has an attraction, that makes one glad.

"They approved of his Finnish suit. Po modata eleganten! which meant stylish! stylish! He was handed a Macedonian cake. And suddenly Patrick, surrounded by friendship, concern, was smiling, feeling the tears on his face falling towards his stern Macedonian-style moustache. Elena, the great Elena who had sold him vetch for over a year, unpinned the white scarf around her neck and passed it to him. He looked up and saw the men and women who could not know why he wept now among these strangers who in the past had seemed to him like dark blinds on his street, their street, for he was their alien.

Suddenly formal, beginning with Elena. The women shook his hand, the men embraced and kissed him, and each time he said Patrick. Patrick. Patrick. Knowing he must now remember every single person. And now, because it was noon, the King Street Russian Mission Brass Band fifty yards down the road, they invited him to lunch which was set up on tables beside the stalls and crates. He was guest of honour. Elena on one side of him, Emil on the other, and a table of new friends."

Through this focus of the Macedonian community, who had largely passed as Turks, Greeks, Bulgarians, or Serbians, Ondaatje turns the narration from the dreams of the likes Harris, the love struggles of our Protagonist to the grievances of the labour immigrant community, where the focus is, on the latter part of the narration.

On the Left, Rowland Harris - Photo taken by Arthur Gross

Bookmark Plaque for the book

 

 

 

 

 

 

Needless to say, it takes considerable skill to make part of the narration that detail just sufficiently the structural engineering sensible to a lay reader. But there is more than that here clearly. It is in a sense a tribute to those unnamed thankless immigrant labour community, without ever sounding propagandist. It reads like cinematic experience as the author doesn't bother to bridge all gaps, as he jumps from scene to scene - for example we do not whether Clara Dickens finally stays with Patrick or not - in fact the 'novel happens' by way of a narration to Hana, whom we will meet again in The English Patient.

The other novels I've read of Ondaatje are, 'Coming Through Slaughter', 'Warlight', and of course 'The English Patient'. There's no weak novel among these, and truly leaves me glad that I still have "Anil's Ghost", "Divisadero", and "Cat's Table" for me to read.

Rating: ****

( All photographs, other than of the book covers, by courtesy of the Internet)