Droit du Seigneur: Henry IV, The Marriage of Figaro, and the Supreme Court

A quick search suggests at least one major publication has picked up on the historical parallel between the Kavanaugh controversy and the droit du seigneur, the practice of the feudal lord playing the part of the husband on the wedding night for anyone under his demesne.

From that evocative association, here are a few more examples of art imitating life, if politics and history are legitimately parts of life and not just distractions from it--viable alternatives to internet indignation and social media signalling:

On the theme of the supposed reformation of the young rake into an esteemed leader, what better time to revisit Shakespeare's Henry IV plays? Is Hal a lovable apotheosis of boys will be boys, or simply a bully? Is Falstaff's gleeful disregard for the truth reminiscent of Trump, or a powerful corrective for calcified order? We're meeting again at Bellwether next month to talk about Part 2, so join us if you're in the area!

On the effort to overcome historical privilege in the name of social progress and personal integrity, what better time to revisit Mozart's Marriage of Figaro? We recently had a chance to see this performed live in Spokane; I think it's remarkable that such a civilized pastime as attending the opera is still possible at all. It makes me think of the theater scene in Kubrick's A Clockwork Orange, too, which might even quote some of Hal's barbs at Falstaff. But key to the comical plot is the Count's willing suspension of the feudal droit, a generous promise he immediately plans to renege upon when the marriage of Figaro places the lovely Susanna at his seigneurial disposal. Hilarity ensues, and all ends well, but not without giving us the strong sense that it might well have gone otherwise, shorn of the magical atmosphere of Mozart's art.

Lastly, in Mimesis Auerbach reflects on Goethe's anxiety about the limiting effects of socio-economic position on his personal development as an artist, both in his letters and his Wilhelm Meister, who in turn reflects on Hamlet's potential and how it is twisted by his circumstances. Auerbach sums up the pinnacle of French theater, epitomized in Racine, as an attempt to show human beings at their utmost freedom, hence atop any socio-economic hierarchy, with the free play of their mighty passions supplying the drama. It makes me think that history itself, and the history of art which represents and shapes it, are the strongest counter-argument against the assertion of individual responsibility to the exclusion of any socio-economic considerations when elaborating one's philosophy, political or otherwise. For whenever those few human beings had the perfect freedom of their position granted them by the providence of high birth, they were as likely to squander it in debauchery and the old in-out as to lead their people to glorious victory in the fifth act.

Regardless of politics, though, may these great works bring perspective, consolation, and delight. And if it's all too heavy, try Maniac. There's a trial subplot there that seems relevant, though I haven't got far enough into it to be able to spoil it any further.