Antony & Cleopatra (A Photo Essay)

 

"Antony and Cleopatra can be read as the fall of a great general, lured away by a treacherous strumpet, or else it can be viewed  as a true celebration of transcendental love."
- A. P. Rierner


"Here you shall make acquaintance with Cleopatra, 
that Being of Flame whose 

passion-breathing beauty 
shaped the destinies of whole Empires."

- H. Rider Haggard, Cleopatra

"Since Antony clearly does not understand her, 
are we likely to do any better?"
- Harold Bloom


"Shakespeare's Antony and Cleopatra must needs be
 intolerable to the true Puritan."
- G.B. Shaw

Whilst studying some astonishing works of literature and art for my dissertation in 2012/13, which explored the question of whether the image of the femme fatale in mid to late 19th century literature and art was empowering or repressive to women, there was one historical and fictional character that began to emerge with increasing regularity in my research, and this person/persona soon began to take on mythological status in my ever enquiring mind: Cleopatra. And then, to my eternal delight, about seven or eight years ago, I was able to undertake a mesmeric in-depth study of Shakespeare's magisterial play, Antony & Cleopatra, and truly inspired, got the idea to do a series of pictures that I could use for my Artist of the Month series that I'd been invited to do at our wonderful, local vegan cafe. My exhibition piece was a great success, and, due to the huge enthusiasm with which it was received, I thought it would be more than appropriate to write an accompanying blog post to describe the relevance of  the pictures that I took, and discuss the extraordinary amount of criticism that has been penned, not only about Shakespeare's magnificent play, which will never diminish in power, but also the magnificent character/persona of Cleopatra herself. Dear reader, if you are unaware of this play, I can confidently assure you it is a mesmerising, glamorous, romantic, and utterly devastating piece of literature.

Shakespeare's version of Antony and Cleopatra (their story has been written by many other writers, too), tells, in principle, the story of the fiery, passionate relationship between Antony and Cleopatra, approximately dated as being around 30 BCE, with the backdrop being the unstable, tumultuous relationship between Egypt and Rome. Over different periods of history, Shakespeare's Cleopatra has been viewed in many different ways. In former times, she has been described as a gypsy, a strumpet, a slave, a royal wench, a boggler, and, my absolute favourite, "a lass unparalleled," which makes her sound like a Disco Queen from Dewsbury, swigging pints of Boddingtons bitter whilst driving all the boys (and ladies!) wild with her flashing, kohl-lined eyes, low-cut sparkling mini-dresses, and flirty dancing. But, over time, and especially in more recent years, Cleopatra has become something of a feminist icon. Instead of seeing her through some of those insecure, sometimes misogynistic spectacles I have just described, she is now often viewed through a different lens. Actors and artists now portray Cleopatra as a thoroughly modern woman, one who is sharp of mind and wit, resilient rather than soft, and one who is in possession of immense intelligence, and who is a skilled diplomatic communicator, rather than the one previously viewed as being little more than a creature dominated by uncontrollable and overwhelming passions. The more modern view also sees her as an exploration of sensuality as power, and I'm pretty sure James Brown would count her among those who he celebrates in his song 'Hot Pants', I.e., one of those fabulous ladies who are courageous and sassy enough, especially in a patriarchal society where the odds are already stacked against them, and who, just like our enchanting queen, "use what she got to get what she wants." Amen to that! This more favourable, contemporary view of Cleopatra also places her as a key player in challenging the notion of strict gender roles and of playing with identity. And, I would suggest, Shakespeare actually did even more than this. For in his play, what he is really demanding of the reader/viewer is that they take sides in what is primarily a struggle between two very different approaches to life.

 On the one hand there is the way of Imperial Rome. This is a male world, governed by strict rules, centred around the conquest of the natural world, waging war and invading other territories, and with an emphasis on individual discipline and duty. On the opposite side is the world of Cleopatra and Egypt: a soft, feminine space dedicated to the senses, the emotional and the playful. And unlike Rome, a space that is also closer to nature. This is a realm dedicated to euphoric pleasure, role play, and is a place (inner and outer) where life is oceanic and performative, and where performance is celebrated as eagerly as songbirds embrace with ecstasy their instinctive desire to sing.

"There's not a minute of our lives should stretch without 

some pleasure now. What sport tonight?"

- Antony to Cleopatra

Into this situation Shakespeare places Antony, a Roman soldier who has fallen deeply in love with Cleopatra and the lifestyle that she and Egypt offers, in opposition to the stern, conquer and rule business world of Caesar and Rome. He is torn between his duties as a Roman general and his wish to live his life with Cleopatra, and the glorious pleasures that Egypt has to offer. And it's not only Antony who is faced with this, for the play seems to demand an answer in the mind of the reader/viewer as well. For as the play unfolds, Shakespeare suggests that there can be no middle ground here, as the two value systems are simply too incompatible with each other to melt into one. You, as reader or viewer, must choose which one you side with. And Antony, despite his fierce inner struggles, already knows, beyond question, that his heart belongs completely to Cleopatra and Egypt:




I am actually of the opinion that Shakespeare, for all his gallant attempts at neutrality, without doubt sides with Cleopatra and Egypt. It is a thoroughly modern play, and many of the descriptions about Cleopatra are spoken by Roman soldiers and generals, who are quite obviously wracked with bitter resentment (Nietzsche's ressentiment in full flow), and soul crushing jealousy of Cleopatra, Antony, and Egypt, and spend much of their down time bitching for all their worth like Twitter/X or Facebook trolls on heat. In this famous description of the voluptuous magnificence of Cleopatra, however, Shakespeare has Antony's best friend, Enobarbus, evoke this extraordinary Egyptian Queen, to Maecenas and a gaggle of soldiers who are quite literally begging him to describe what she is really like. It is a passage that both Samuel Taylor Coleridge and Oscar Wilde declared as being their favourite in the whole of Shakespeare's writings, and, dearest reader and companion in the search for beauty, it is truly sublime:

Maecenas: Now Antony must leave her utterly?

Enobarbus: Never; He will not: 
Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale 

Her infinite variety. Other women cloy 

The appetites they feed, but she makes hungry 

Where most she satisfies...

Enobarbus: "As for her own person... 
It beggar'd all description: she did sit 
In her pavilion..., 
O'erpicturing that Venus where we see 
The fancy outwork nature."

And as Antony travels back and forth to Rome from Egypt, pulled this way and that, both inwardly and outwardly, Cleopatra almost drives her messengers crazy as they too race back and forth as she constantly demands fresh updates on what he's doing. When he is away from Egypt during his travels to Rome she showers them with questions and it is obvious that this is no queen who is simply desired by others. She imagines what Antony might be doing at that very moment:

"Where is he now?

 Does he walk? Or is he on his horse?

Oh, lucky horse, to bear the weight of Antony!"

As the play unfolds, it is clear that Cleopatra certainly knows which of Antony's buttons to press, and she teases him mercilessly, egging him on continually to greater heights, and encouraging him to surrender to the true greatness in his soul, showing how playfulness can have profound affects as he experiences life in a different way than had seemed possible:

"You can do better!"

- Cleopatra to Antony

The sultry, luxuriating atmosphere that Antony finds himself in changes him imperceptibly. He embraces androgyny, and Cleopatra continually challenges him to understand life from her and Egypt's perspective, something to which he surrenders with relish. The gossips in Rome chatter and twitter, but, in Egypt, the serious fact of the matter is that Cleopatra is proving to Antony that she is every bit as powerful in her way as he is. And, of course, Antony proves a more than willing leading man, revelling in the gender fluidity and role play that Cleopatra teases out of him:

Cleopatra: "That time? O times!
I laughed him out of patience, and that night
I laughed him into patience, and next morn,
Ere the ninth hour, I drunk him to his bed,
Then put my tires and mantles on him, whilst
I wore his sword Philippan."

I maintain that it is primarily in this area that Shakespeare's play has become a truly modern mouthpiece for our own times. For Antony and Cleopatra challenge traditional notions of masculinity and femininity to its roots. They show that these aspects of our lives are, in reality, performative, and not set in stone, and perhaps this can challenge our culture to explore and embrace what these notions actually are, and to be more open to the idea that a greater richness and variety of life, and a shedding of the ego and the personality, can be achieved by doing so:

"Cleopatra is voluptuously female and also robustly half-masculine. And both she and Antony appropriate the powers and prerogatives of both sexes more lavishly than any other characters in literature."

- Camille Paglia

"Caesar and his retinue call Antony effeminate, 
yet Antony is more masculine in the usual sense. 
Caesar and his Roman world view believers are essentially
 a bland, businessman type, who, 
compared to Antony, are sexually neutered."

- Camille Paglia

As can be already surmised, Antony and Cleopatra is a wonderful, hypnotising play. Cleopatra, as Shakespeare has written her, has become a feminist icon, a modern character who kept the Romans at bay by using both her quick intelligence and her sacred sensuality. For centuries, Cleopatra had been principally read as a scheming femme fatale, an example of why women on the whole could never be trusted: i.e., they are obsessed with passion, short on intelligence, inconstant, natural, mysterious and untrustworthy. But modern criticism has now, thankfully, moved beyond this, and she is now viewed as somebody who celebrates and personifies the feminine values of the land over which she reigns. Her passion and ardour, her "infinite variety", as Shakespeare gloriously describes it, becomes not just an opposite of Rome, but rather, reveals how limiting (and dull!) that masculine, Roman approach to life is. The Roman world of discipline, conquest and rules has no place for her and Antony's oceanic imagination, and, as the play unfolds, it is up to the viewer to decide which approach to life they are on the side of. Antony himself has been decried as a great general who lost his masculinity and gave up his duties for sensuous pleasures as the plaything of an enchanting queen. But, as with Cleopatra herself, Antony is also a modern character, caught in a ceaseless struggle between duty and pleasure, only too aware that Egypt offers a rich alternative to the limiting values of Imperial Rome. He is strong enough to let Cleopatra lead where necessary, and, as humanity faces up to perhaps its greatest ever struggle to date - the terrible threat and crisis of species extinction due to Climate Change - we may need to consider Egypt's approach to how we live rather than Rome, as this could well be a species and world saving matter. Antony proves that this can be achieved as he is able to blend the masculine and feminine within himself to a point where he becomes a far richer and life-affirming person than he was before, and which had personified the Roman ideal. And both Cleopatra and Antony emphasise just how performative the whole notion of gender actually is. Biologically male and female they both may be, but as they show, the rest, in terms of gender, is far less rigid.

I am severely reluctant to spoiler the outcome of this extraordinary play, so I'm going to finish my write up of it whilst allowing you, dear reader, if it is a play you have not read/watched, to follow it up yourself, should you desire to do so. But please enjoy and saviour the remaining images and texts below, and, until next time, I remain, as always,

Your Nocturnal Butterfly. xx

"The personalities of Antony and Cleopatra

 constitute a great poem."

- Harold Bloom

"Cleopatra regularly and brilliantly bewilders readers and theatregoers alike, and Antony too, and herself. But to be more human in love is, in our time, to imitate Cleopatra, whose variety and playfulness makes staleness impossible."

- Harold Bloom

"Many unpleasant things can be said about Cleopatra,

 and the more that are said, 

the more wonderful she becomes."

 - A. C. Bradley

"But even then I knew that it was not in physical charms alone

 that the might and wonder of Cleopatra truly lay. 
It was rather in a glory and radiance

 that shone from the fierce soul within."

- H. Rider Haggard, Cleopatra

"Antony and Cleopatra blur time, 
in the eternal now of the imagination."

- Camille Paglia

"Better to be Antony and lose

than to be Caesar and win."

- David Bevington

And a huge thank you to my wonderful models:

Cleopatra: Lady Lilith

Antony: Aaron Lowney

"It is an illusion that photos are made with the camera… 

they are made with the eye, heart and head.”

— Henri Cartier-Bresson

"We're all looking for a love, that's as strong as death,
That's equally heart, and equally head.

We're all looking for a love that takes away our breath,
That's equally heart, and equally head."
- Brett Anderson

A Dream Within a Dream

The Dark Season is upon us and now reveals itself. The air chills and sharpens, and our senses quicken and tremble.

It is the perfect time to share these beautifully eerie portraits I created for this poetic season, a season where everything is heightened, and where those happy few who are in touch with the strangeness of our existence, and who are more in tune to what lies beyond the veil of night, come to the fore and experience our mysterious world on a deeper, more sensuous level.

All of these pictures were taken before the end of 2019, before the world changed forever.
I have an extra appreciation for them now; their cinematic mystery and enchanting diaphanous quality evoke a feeling we desperately need to inhabit again. A portal, a magical realm, an escape from our perceived and binding "reality." After all, isn't our reality only what we choose to experience at any given moment? Perhaps it's time again to believe in something more. Such as they did in those times long... long ago... when people still believed in witches?

And with that, my dear Creatures of the Night, 

I hereby present...

A Dream Within a Dream
(Atmospheres and Apparitions)

"Is all that we see or seem,
But a dream within a dream?"

- Poe, The Raven

Part 1: 

Hauntology

Seul au clair de lune... au clair de lune serioux

"Let the moon shine on thee in thy solitary walk;
And let the misty sea-winds be free
To blow against thee."
- Wordsworth, 'Tintern Abbey'

A Different Kind of Blue

"From here, So high,

We drift, We fly,

With twilight breakthrough...

A different kind of blue."

- Passengers, 'A Different Kind of Blue'

AlwaysForeverNow

"The distinction between the past, present and

future, is only a stubbornly persistent illusion."

- Albert Einstein

 Sofie the Fortune-Teller

"You know, the people in these towns,

they're asleep. All day, at work, at home.

They're sleepwalkers. We wake them up."
- Sofie, 'Carnivale,' HBO

Rose Quartz

"The Divine is everywhere, all you have to do is look."

- Casper David Friedrich

The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari

"Everywhere there are spirits.
They are all around us."

- The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari

Forever... and ever... and ever...

"I'm sorry to differ with you Sir, 

but YOU are the Caretaker.
You've always been the caretaker.
I should know, Sir, I've always been here."

- The Shining

The Science of Ghosts

"You know that Freud had to deal all
his life with ghosts? It's simply the art of letting the 
Ghosts come back. And it's the ghosts

who will answer you. Perhaps they already have. 

Ghosts are part of the future."
- Jacques Derrida, 'Hauntology'



Strange Neighbourhood

"But this place is too cold for Hell.

I'll Devil porter it no further."
- William Shakespeare, 'Macbeth'

Part II: 

Witchcraft, Wicked Witchcraft

Lilith

"Witches are always women who dare to be:

groovy, courageous, aggressive, intelligent, nonconformist,

explorative, curious, sensually liberated, revolutionary."

Kristen. J Sollee, 'Witches, Sensualists, Feminists'

The Hunter

"She is the Hunter,

You are the Hunted..."
- Brett Anderson, 'The Hunter'

The Ghosts in the Machine

"The modern technology of images and 

communication, the strange aliveness of the 

electric current,

all these energetic pathways have surely

enhanced the power of ghosts and 

their ability to haunt us. It is up to

us whether we have the courage to

allow their magic to illuminate

our lives that can lift us periodically

 from the dreariness of the everyday."

- Kafka

Only After Dark

"I feel my spirit fly,

Only After Dark...
Why don't you fly, fly
Fly with me,
Sweet elusive fate will
Be our company...
Only After Dark."
- Mick Ronson, 'Only After Dark'

Coffee & Poe

"For the rare and radiant maiden,

Whom the angels name Leonore,

Nameless here forevermore."
Poe, 'The Raven'

After Dark

"In her eyes, 

a distant fire light burns bright,

And I'm wondering why
It's only After Dark?"

- Tito & Tarantula, 'After Dark'

Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This)

"You are so vulnerably haunting.
Your eeriness is terrifyingly irresistible.

You appear to be in touch with something

we mere mortals shall never know."
- Franz Kafka

The Double

"Mirrors on the ceiling,
Pink champagne on ice...

Living it up at the Hotel California,

What a nice surprise...

Bring your alibis."

- The Eagles, Hotel California

'Lebensfreude (Joy of Life)

"Real art must always involve

some witchcraft."
- Isak Dinesen

 Sternenaugen (Starlike Eyes)

"A Witch is a person who has honestly

explored their light, and has evolved

 to celebrate their darkness."

- Dacha Avelin

The Haunted Dancehall (of Paradise)

"Midnight, and the Stars & You,

Midnight... and a rendezvous.
Your eyes held a message tender
Saying, "I surrender all my love to you."
Midnight... brought us sweet romance,
I know all my whole life through,
I'll be remembering you,

Whatever else I do...

Midnight, and the stars and you."

- Irving King, 'Midnight and the Stars and You'

Happy Halloween, my Devilish Darlings.

Bites & Kisses!

xxx

"There are, in our times, many people on a low,

material plane of existence, quite incapable of appreciating

the symbolic value of sensuous phenomena.

How eternally thankful we must be if we are not one of them."

- Oscar Wilde.

The Twilight Hour

"Whether I believe in ghosts or not,

I say...
Long live the ghosts!"

"But They're not Martians, They're Tories!"

Through a recent long and sleepless night, caused principally by a combination of CF and CF-related diabetes symptoms, as well as the high dose of steroids I am currently on, I spent two of those early hours listening to The War of the Worlds album on my headphones, and what a strange and wonderful experience it was. It seemed eerily prescient, and I was also struck by just how bloody good it is. Richard Burton is, of course, sensational as the narrator. His voice just gets me every time. The depth, the richness, the faintest trace of a Welsh accent, and, of course, the melancholy. 'Forever Autumn' is a wonderful song, and hearing it in those ghostly hours on my headphones reminded me of another uncanny experience I had back in October 2019. For one morning, as the autumn sun shone a dazzling white through our window, I heard Lydia suddenly "shooshing!" me to turn the music down as it was too early to have it that loud. It wasn't me that was the cause on this occasion, however, it was the bin collectors outside. For they were playing 'Forever Autumn' at full blast from out of the cab of their lorry, and that was what we could hear reverberating around our flat. Words can't really do it justice but it was a strange, haunting sensation, almost as if the aliens had arrived and The War of the Worlds had suddenly become reality. The other thing that struck me was the piece that is called 'The Red Weed' actually sounds remarkably similar to Bowie's "Berlin-era" track with Eno, 'Art Decade', and even some Krautrock from a similar period. As The War of the Worlds could be seen as a prog rock nightmare to the punks and cooler types, this appeared to me as being a connection they perhaps wouldn't have anticipated (or desired).

But the main thing that has struck me is just how eerily The War of the Worlds tapped into my current fears of impending doom and disaster for our world and society. There is such an ominous atmosphere to the music and the storyline, from the very first moment when missiles start departing Mars, on their long journey across "a million of miles of void," and which then proceed to cause so much calamity to Earth, despite the astronomer, Oglebee, trying to reassure humanity that there's nothing to fear, as the chances of anything coming from Mars are a million to one. But... still... They Come...

But, of course, it's not Martians that are responsible for the nightmare we are facing today and who are threatening to destroy our entire social fabric, which was so painstakingly built up from post-war gains, such as the National Health Service, a nationalised railway and utilities, and a fully functioning safety net for our country's citizens known as the welfare system. Oh no, it's full throttle, cut-throat, extremist neoliberal capitalism that is on the verge of sending our culture and world up in flames. And this situation made me recall the scene where the Parson (a brilliant performance from Phil Lynott, incidentally) wrongly believes, in his delirium, that the Martians are actually devils, and that he must cast them out to save mankind. His wife, Beth, tries to make him see sense: 

"But they're not devils, they're Martians!"

- Picture of Nathaniel the Parson 

with the Martians on the

 War of the Worlds LP artwork

And that's when I remembered another, quite terrifying picture, also from the artwork on the LP, (see below) that I poured over for hours on end as a boy, but I would imagine that what Beth would be saying to the Parson now, and this picture could surely represent the naked truth, made visible, behind every decision that our government (and the right-wing think tanks behind the scenes that influence everything) is currently making around public services, public expenditure, and its insistence on torching any institution that represents the community or the poor, under the hateful, extremist ideology of free-market capitalism...

"But they're not Martians, they're Tories (neoliberals!")

 

Such is the feeling in my mind as we enter the beautiful season of autumn, with class war being waged and a palpable sense of dread and fear in the air. Of course, it doesn't have to be this way, despite Margaret Thatcher trying to convince everyone that there is "no alternative" to neoliberal capitalism. But H.G. Wells defeated the Martians in his story, and who knows, perhaps capitalism will be dumped in the bin, and one day historians will look back in horror at the mayhem and inequality it ravaged on the human and non-human world alike. Hope has to Spring Eternal. We shall see what unfolds during yet another winter of discontent.

"And the endless parade of old Etonian scum,

Line the front benches, "So what is to be done?"
All part of the same establishment,

So, I ask you again, "What is to be done?"

I ask you again, "What is to be done?"

I ask you again, "What is to be done?"

- Manic Street Preachers, '30-Year War'

"Till now myself and such
As slept within the shadow
of your power
Have wandered with our traversed
arms, and breathed 
Our sufferance vainly. Now the
time is flush,
When crouching marrow in
the bearer strong
Cries of itself 'no more'."
- William Shakespeare,
Timon of Athens

A Canvas For Our Yearning: Hauntology

 

- You Never Knew Me,

Outside the Window of Southampton General Hospital,

Art/Photography by Nocturnal Butterfly (2022)

"I believe that ghosts are part of the future"

 - Jacques Derrida

 I first came across the philosophy of Hauntology through David Stubbs' brilliant, fascinating book on the history of electronic music, Mars by 1980, and it is a concept that seems to carry more significance with each passing day. In essence, hauntology is the belief that we are accompanied by the ghosts of paths we could have taken, but didn't, in all realms of our lives: politically, individually, technologically, culturally and literally; essentially, every single area of our lives. It's often described as 'Nostalgia for Lost Futures', and Derrida sums up this feeling with the provocative statement, "To Be is to be Haunted." Of course, anyone who has the courage to really delve into their life and analyse where decisions were made or not made, will understand that this is an inevitable truth of our existence. With every path we take, we basically sacrifice whatever would have happened to us if we had decided on any other course. But that doesn't mean to say that we have to feel despair about the decisions we did make. It is simply an unavoidable reality in our lives. For it is equally true that if we had taken the other path at key moments, perhaps none of us would now be in the situations we currently find ourselves in, meaning that we would have sacrificed whatever we have now for the other reality we had chosen. So, in this respect, it is more about acknowledging these head-spinning, uncanny and unavoidable facts of our existence, and accepting the unconscious residue of the feelings of loss that will inevitably linger and remain. And even though I truly adore the life I have, despite my CF, which causes so much trouble and worry, I think I have actually got most of the big calls right, but there are most definitely areas where I can and need to improve greatly, and I do occasionally still have sleepless nights over something I said or didn't say in the past, with some of the instances I find myself contemplating often taking me back decades. But this realisation, I hope, has helped me to grow and learn. This way of thinking also makes a mockery of that pronouncement that I have been so often subjected to, by people who felt so proud of themselves as they said it and which they tried to convince both me and themselves contained such deep, spiritual wisdom, but which is actually a banal inanity: "I have no regrets." Excuse me, dear reader, but in my opinion, this is bullshit. A person who genuinely believed that would surely be just admitting that they actually have no genuine understanding of how life really works. In my view, it is surely a rather blinkered and self-satisfied idea to believe, and is perhaps, more accurately, simply a wilful denial of acknowledging mistakes, and the hurt we may have caused others, as this is pretty much unavoidable at some stages in our lives. But, in the main, whenever I think about my life and the things that have happened, I think and hope that I've got many things right. Especially, thank goodness, some of the very major decisions. But there are many instances where I most definitely do have regrets, and wish I'd done things a bit differently. Made more visits and phone calls to my Mum in the months before she passed away, for example, and some of the things I said to my Taid when he was approaching the end of his life, seem to me now to be woefully inadequate and naïve, considering the shattering, and ultimately sacred moment that is a human life reaching its end. I guess, looking back, I now realise that I actually just didn't have the intellectual or emotional maturity, or life experience, to deal with such a situation, especially as I too was enveloped by grief, as my Taid was a father figure to me, and one of the best friends I have ever had. But, sadly, I actually cringe slightly at some of the things I said at the time. I so deeply wish I could have done things better.

Confession, Vlastimir Hofman (1906) 

- National Museum in Warsaw

There have also been times when I have said ignorant, hurtful things to people I love, or didn't stand up for people I love, or myself, and those occasions will haunt me to the grave. Having CF, and suffering from PTSD because of childhood trauma, has certainly not helped me either, as when I need to make a split second decision around a new situation, I can quite literally freeze with fear in case I make the incorrect one, simply terrified that the one I choose could then turn out to be catastrophic. Which, in a sense, is Hauntology in advance, as I am fearful that it will be that one decision which will then lead to a reality that I didn't want, and which could have been avoided. But, obviously, without a crystal ball, I have no idea which road to take, and that sense of fear, which mainly comes form me being forced to make almost unthinkable choices when I was a boy, can manifest just as strongly now. As you can see, PTSD is truly an abominable thing to have to live with. And, then, of course, and this is where hauntology really speaks to my heart and soul, is the larger, societal, universal level of our existence. For this is pretty much punching each and every one of us in the face, every single day at this current historical moment. For as the Tories sadistically Slash 'n'  Burn our entire social fabric, the thought that so much of this could have been avoided if we had only voted for Jeremy Corbyn's Labour Party in 2019, strikes at the very heart of Hauntology. I voted for Labour in 2019 with a hope in my heart for our society that I'd never experienced before or have done since. (I mean,Tory-lite, Sir Keir Starmer... give me a break.) But Jeremy Corbyn's bold and audacious proposals could have genuinely made our society a fairer, safer, more flourishing and less divided space. Of course, the neoliberal extremists knew this, they knew that if his ideas worked it would transform people's lived realities and thought processes, and that their dog eat dog, capitalist, race to the bottom ideologies, which are so ingrained in our unconscious minds, would then begin to crumble, and that is why they then systematically destroyed any chance Corbyn had of winning, by either sabotaging him from within (the despicable, treacherous right wing of the Labour Party), and from without, which saw a hate, lies and smear campaign by the Murdoch press and the majority of the mainstream media that would have even made fucking Goebbels go green with envy. And look where all this has led us. One of the highest numbers of Covid deaths in the world, an NHS that is being ideologically underfunded, to a degree that will no doubt lead to people dying who otherwise wouldn't if this situation wasn't happening, mainly due to A&E and/or ambulance waiting times, and a general lack of proper care. The private utilities companies are basically holding us at gun point like fucking highwaymen from ages past, demanding that we, "Stand & Deliver, Your money or your life!" (Which will quite possibly be literally true for many this winter. But unlike Adam Ant, the utility business CEOs are all soulless, brute Philistines without a shred of art or style in their psyches, and most definitely not dandy). And, on top of all of this, the now impossible to ignore threat of the climate emergency. But with a different approach, and with one that acknowledged just how great a miracle it is that we and any life exists at all, on this beautiful, battered, fragile planet, and surely all of these situations would be very different. This is where Hauntology comes in, and it is speaking to me on a very deep philosophical level at this present time. I think these two pictures probably sum up the situation in a rather succinct way, because we got this spoilt, narcissistic, completely out of his depth chancer...

When we could have had this dignified, intelligent statesman, who, although he has his faults (as do we all - none of us are perfect, darlings), admirably just wants to build a better life for the vast majority of human beings...

No small wonder then that the Ghosts of what could have been, are hanging so heavy on our lives at this current time of crisis. The sadness and grief I am feeling at seeing our beautiful world being destroyed is off the scale. The world is dying before our very eyes, and we are practically helpless to do anything about it. It colours almost every feeling I have about being alive right now. We all unconsciously feel it, but our reality living in a capitalist system demands that we put on a fake positive front, and never admit that we feel that agony in our souls at what is occurring. And so it manifests in other, energy sapping ways, such as depression, which then provides the pharmaceutical companies with millions of prescriptions for anti-depressant drugs, thus exacerbating the problem as the root cause is never challenged and changed. The human race has had decades to try and sort this appalling situation out, but the rich and powerful, and the intolerably greedy and self-centred have ruined everything. All in the name of profit and a so-called individualism (of which our society's neoliberal version is actually an aberration - read Oscar Wide's The Soul of Man Under Socialism for the true definition of what genuine individualism and freedom could mean for us, both personally and societally; more Hauntology, right there, folks), and extremist, market economics, which would rather see the world go up in deadly flames and parch in drought (or horrendous floods once winter arrives) rather than admit its values are rapacious, indifferent and inhumane. It is a truly devastating situation.

And although it is only quite recently that I discovered the term 'hauntology' for the emotions and sensations that it describes, I find it interesting to consider that I have actually experienced what has been called hauntology for most of my life, without ever having known that there was a philosophical term and theory for it, or for being able to understand it in the detailed way I am now exploring. And it is a philosophy that is engrained in so much of the music that I listen to and have listened to so deeply throughout my entire life. (And the literature I read as well, come to think of it.) As ever, art often gets there first and articulates the truths we hold in our hearts and unconscious, long before a sharp, philosophical mind then sees the links behind these feelings and is able to apply a theory to them. And hauntology strikes me as being possibly the key subject and motif of much of the post-punk genre that I love, particularly in the work of Howard Devoto's Magazine, who gives a pretty accurate description of the feeling of hauntology in this brilliantly observed verse from 'You Never Knew Me', which is on their The Correct Use of Soap album:

"I don't want to turn around

And find I got it wrong.

Or that I should have been

Laughing all along."

- 'You Never Knew Me'  - Magazine

This sense of questioning oneself, and which in this instance is a pretty deep doubt, not only on the entire approach to how the narrator of the song is living his life, but also, of fate, unease and the unfathomable strangeness of it all, is deeply embedded in not only this song, but Magazine's entire canon. In fact, this feeling, and a profound sense of the alienation of modern life, saturates Magazine's music and Devoto's lyrics. And it's not only just arty, post-punk singers and bands such as Magazine (and particularly Joy Division) who explore these ideas, for it is also a staple that can be found in abundance in shiny, mainstream pop music, too, such as in Cher's plaintive, but deeply human cry against the irreversible nature of time, and of being haunted by a decision made that the singer of the song wishes she could now undo, and which is, in effect, a howl of rage against fate itself:

"If I could turn back time,

If I could find a way,

I'd take back all those words that had hurt you,

And you'd stay."

- 'If I Could Turn Back Time' - Cher

The human anguish and desperate longing expressed in this simple chorus is truly sublime. And these brief examples simply confirm to me what I'd already known, intuitively, all along. Residing in the best and brightest artists, whether that be shimmering pop, rock, dance music, post-punk, classical, and pretty much every genre of music that exists, there is often written, and sung, deep, philosophical truths, that could, at first glance, seem to be merely throw away disposable lines, intended mainly for singalong, mass consumption. But how incorrect that view sometimes is. But then, I guess there are many people, especially the conservative, business-minded, sensitive as a house brick types, whom will never hear any of this - whether that be the feelings of longing and sadness that is hauntology, or the wonderful music that expresses it - in any sense. Somehow I just can't imagine Boris Johnson, or people like him, ever having moments of self-reflection over decisions they have made in the past, even if those decisions led to thousands of unnecessary deaths and a burning country.

But hauntology speaks to me only too clearly at this present, incredibly mournful period, as we stand by, practically helpless, while the powerful make decisions that destroy individual lives, the Social Contract, and, quite possibly, in all eventuality, quite literally all life on earth. And how we can not feel this happening? It is us. We are not separate from our struggling fellow humans. And we are not separate from the natural world, either. We are as much a part of it, and as reliant on it, as the humblest sparrow or earth worm.

Epilogue:

As I write this, I am sitting in my hospital room, having been admitted, twelve days ago, with a problematic issue regarding my cystic fibrosis that has required a pretty aggressive approach to treat, and which will require an extra three months of additional treatment (on top of the mountains of medications and treatments I already have to do) at home before it hopefully settles down. The room I sit in right now, as the second set of three intravenous drugs that I need to save my life are administered, over the space of three hours this afternoon, is as warm as a baking oven. I can only safely make it through the day and evening because I have a huge fan about three feet away from me on continuous full blast. The CF Team and the nurses, and cleaners and catering staff on the ward, are a wonder, spending their days in PPE in stifling temperatures. I have the utmost respect for them. But there have been numerous times during this admission when staff shortages, which resulted in nurses being drafted in from other wards, etc, has had a detrimental effect on my care, and which came close to being serious on a couple of occasions last week. But it is not those nurses who are specialists in other wards, and who have been summoned to this ward to make up the numbers, who are to blame. Oh no. It is our despicable Tory government that are responsible, and the unforgivable way they are treating the staff and the NHS itself, through deliberate, chronic, ideological underfunding. What is wrong with these vile vampires? Is the billions that they and their cronies already possess not enough for them? They make me sick with their pathological greed. I desperately hope they are run out of town before they can do any more irreversible damage. And then, of course, as I reflect on all this, hauntology strikes at my heart once more when I consider how different and better things would surely be if Jeremy Corbyn had won the 2019 election. Just imagine it, a fully funded NHS, Prioritised Social Care, the railways and utilities nationalised, less food banks, less financial stress for millions of individuals and families, (which would then mean less anxiety and depression in the populace, and that energy could then be transferred to positive, creative thinking and projects), genuine attempts to tackle climate change, less deaths from Covid, the list really is endless. But, sadly, that is a path this nation chose not to take, and now we are paying a devastating price. And this situation so clearly demonstrates that feeling of a 'Lost Future,' a deep sense of what could have been, which hauntology suggests actually clings to us, individually and collectively, like a shadowy presence in our hearts and minds, and this is the profound idea that Derrida so accurately summed up in his penetrating statement...

"To Be is to be Haunted."

These two lovely pigeons in the picture above, have settled outside my hospital window to spend some time with me, every single day since I was admitted nearly two weeks ago. It is as if they have been checking in on me (even one of the physios noticed how they were actually craning their necks so that they could get a better view, and how she couldn't recall ever seeing any pigeons on this side of the hospital before), even though the area outside my room is only a bleak, industrial, Ballardian landscape, with precious little reason for them to be there, in terms of food, shading, or protection from predators. And thus, I feel truly honoured by their presence, and I have actually been fortunate enough to have had many wonderful and profound connections with our wild feathered friends, throughout my life. I just wish that I could get these two adorable scallywag pigeons a drink of water at this present moment, as they must be sweltering in the heat. But, sadly, hauntology is even colouring this magical, mystical occurrence in a kind of hazy, melancholy blue. Because I can't help but feel a great sense of sadness at the increased struggles they must be experiencing at the situation they currently find themselves in, (how they can find water and stay cool in this heat is a mystery to me), and, also, moving further into the future, of their chicks, and the generations to come, who will find things even more difficult as the climate emergency escalates. I just hope they can forgive us for what we have done, and are continuing to do, to what is essentially their world, just as much as it is ours. Even as an atheist, I could almost pray that they will be okay. Maybe they will find a way to survive, for, as William Blake wrote:

No bird flies too high if he soars with his own wings."

And so, faithful readers, until next time,

I do indeed remain, your very own, Nocturnal Butterfly. 

Just very softly.

- Collage by Joe Webb