Friday, May 30, 2014

Hannibal Season 2 Finale: The Ultimate "Design" ~



Listen to this while reading, you will feel the harmony between sound and word .. 


It has been exactly a week now since Hannibal’s shocking and blatantly eventful final episode from the jaw-dropping season 2. I wanted to write something about this exceptional series and the unexpected turn of events of the last episode as I believe I just got out from the seven days state of denial that the beautifully wicked Mr Lecter has immersed me in.

Three possible deaths are the culmination of this intellectually and psychologically provocative season. Surprisingly, the victims are three of the fundamental characters of the entire series: “Will Graham” .. Is he a killer in transition, in disguise, by proxy or unconsciously .. No one knows .. Yet.  

The second victim is the innocent and caring Jack Crowford and the third one is the gullible Dr Alana Bloom. If one is to expect a common pattern between all these probable deaths, one is to be disappointed ! I do not know if this violent hastiness in the killing process is done on purpose or is simply the result of a lack in preparations as the fatal visits of these three characters was unpredicted by Hannibal The Cannibal .. Or perhaps he made it look like he was surprised at their breaking in into his sacred and ritualistic dinner preparations.

Every reading is possible at this point .. His reckless behavior when dealing with the attacks signals an astonishment at their coming. However, the reiterative focus on the knife when it smoothly slays the meat, accentuates the idea that his Mind’s Eye is at work here, for it is the knife, the cannibal’s tool, which mirrors the invading and threatening faces of the ominous victims.   

Now, the fashion according to which he handles the life of his victims can either manifest a prominent degree of dexterity or an unusual degree of rashness .. An act, of course, that does not become the minutely calculating mind of Hannibal Lecter.

With his sharp cooking knife, he cut the throats of both Jack crowford and Abigail Hobbs. Perchance, there is a latent pattern in the slaughtering act after all. Moreover, Alana’s the throat was cut in the same way by the helpless Abigail Hobbs. This undecidability still persists, however, when the viewer examines the way Hannibal attempted to end Will’s life. While Alana and Jack were swiftly cut, Will Graham was pierced right through the stomach by his “friend” Hannibal.

Logically, as such, the release of the soul will be slow and painful. Does he desire to internalize the last breathing moments of the friend he loves and engrave them in his memory ? Is Hannibal Lecter becoming a voyeuristic ? Perhaps he already is ! He does relish in the aesthetic ways of death he designs. Following this, Hannibal rejoices in both process and result of assassination. He enjoys the while and the post, maybe because the “post” reminds him of the “beauty” of the “while” and the “while” paves the way to the gratification of the “post”.

The question that remains at the end, did Hannibal honor them by such mundane and plain forms of murder ? Is there a tale to tell behind them ? Was there an ancient ritual executed in the process ? Was there a philosophy underlying them ? Did he intend to immortalize them in so usual a murder ? Is there an ultimate design or does the design lie in the no design ?

 Why does he “eternalize” anonymous people and rewards the people he knows and loves with a normal death ? Is it because he knows them ? Perhaps he wants to remember them as living creatures and not as a set of peculiar exhibitions of Life and Death.

 “I gave you a rare gift, but you didn’t want it.” He says to Will Graham while the latter is lying on the floor gasping for breath. One can argue that he is talking about his unappreciated friendship, or, more far-fetchedly about the “honor” of dying like a normal human being.

Ideas are painfully irreconcilable when it comes to Dr Hannibal Lecter .. Cognitive provocation, visual amazement and psychological angst are what he offers you, yet we, the wretched viewers, continue to watch awe-inspired and impressed. These paradoxes make of Hannibal a series to watch, rewatch, brood over, study and even teach ..      



Friday, May 16, 2014

The Originals Season Finale: Hope is Miraculous ~



Ps: This contains spoilers.

“From a Cradle to a Grave” is the title of the Originals season finale; from Life to Death lies a whole eventful journey. As viewers, in one episode, we surely endured the gruesome scenes of Death as well as tasted the delightful little emotional moments when we witness the starting of a Life.

 These two antagonistic perpetual forces are craftily illustrated in the episode. You feel that mini heart-attack, your jaw drops, you reach out to your heart when the witch cuts Hayley’s throat. You mind starts to wonder: what will become of Elijah ? Of Klaus’s Humanity ? Of the promise of a Home ?

All these aspirations and hopes are shouldered by the unborn miracle baby, not because she is the fruit of an original hybrid and a werewolf, but because she, tiny and helpless as she is, embodies the healing power that will bind the family together, fuel love in its veins and nurtures the decaying notion of Humanity especially for Klaus, the wounded father.

People have this propensity to associate birth with miracles. One is liable to say:” I want to witness the miracle of birth.” It is indeed a miracle. This miracle does not solely emanate from the wondrous fact that a whole and healthy human being comes out of a woman’s womb. What is awe-inspiring is the effect of this birth on the characters of the series. They grew more humane, warmer, stronger, and most importantly more hopeful. Isn’t that a miracle ?

 For centuries, The Michealsons drifted apart, struggled, suffered, made enemies of each other. They were too aware of their complexities and dichotomies and, at times, co-existence was impossible. “Always and Forever”, the family motto, was constantly violated by the flaws of some, and the weaknesses of others.
When it comes to family, we always say: “It is complicated” and this phrase should do, given that it is common, if not universal to have complicated family ties. Equally common is Life and birth, they happen every day, yet they inspire amazement, joy and Hope. It is a consistently repetitive act, but this reiteration never tires its beauty. Strange enough, this summons to my mind, Maurice Ravel’s classical piece “Bolero”. During 20 minutes, one single musical sequence is repeated, each time with a different instrument. Do we tire from it ? Not for a second !

Now, let’s go back to our subject matter. It is a miracle, Hope is a miracle, especially after a lifetime of pain. It is a sign of strength, it is a sign of Love. Hope, she was named. Klaus named her as such upon handing her to his sister Rebecca for her safety. She survived her first day in this world and as night fell down, she amazingly cured the maladies of her family. Klaus learned the human ability to forgive and forget; he made his peace with his adopted son Marcellus. He also learned how to put differences aside and support each other in times of hardships. To our delight, we see him tearfully smiling to Rebecca at the end of the episode, we see him trusting his sister again with the new pearl of the family, believing that she is bounteous enough to devote herself to her niece. He embraced his brother Elijah again; “the monster” and “noble” agree to live in harmony again.

Saying to his daughter: “ Every soul who wishes you harm will be cast down. I promise you that, as sure as my blood runs in your veins, you will return to me .." by the end, is far from being monster-like, and in this lies the miracle ..

Ps: For those curious about the musical piece I mentioned earlier, here it is:  

   

       

Sunday, May 4, 2014

I Have a Dream, Make Way ! ~



Shapeless hours ..
Days go in tedious Adagio
Senseless existence, aimless labour
Why toil and sweat, if dreams are not met ?
Why bother to move, if the fate is set ?

Thus spake the Devil in my waking nights
Untimely open eyes, 'tis painful for the sight
Bygone days replayed in Allegro
Swift episodes of used-to-be's pass me by
So many aching what-if's cut through my being
Of days ever so bright
'tis agony to behold them through the night
For all they beget
Is tearful eyes, so tired, so wet

I dread the first light, the new day
They say: "Play and come what may"
I want to scream: "I have a dream ! Make way !"
I will not wait for desperate innuendos
of a beautiful tomorrow

I will fight, though weary
For my dreams can never tarry ... 

Saturday, April 26, 2014

« Her » The Movie: A Remarkable Reminder of Human Fragility ~




Once upon a seemingly boring Friday, after a painfully long week, I decided to watch a movie untitled “Her” starring Joaquin Phoenix. And tell you what, there is indeed a reason why she is called Her and not you … It because she is the embodiment of an absence …  And through absence, she is forcefully and achingly present in the mind and heart of the protagonist “Theodore”.

He fell in love with a voice on the other end of the line. This might sound a cliché, but dear God it is not ! It is far from being a lousy romance speaking of love-distance relationship. It is an ethereal love from the futur .. A mighty bond that ties two hearts not through matter or senses but through the simple act of conversation, through the power of words for these are able to beget affection.

It is not sophistry; it is the magic of a spiritual consensus through interaction. We live in an age fraught with instances of failing communication, let us imagine how this human misfortune develops towards the future decades …  It is typical to think that the machine replaces and even kills the feelings, but Theodore, a man from the future, manifests himself as a human being par excellence. Throughout the whole movie, he struggles to quench an agonizing need; that of having the pleasure of a loving and understanding companion. He finds what he longs for in an operating system with a female voice. This might seem dull and even creepy, but trust you me, it is surprisingly beautiful.  

This movie, although set sometime in the next few decades, teaches the viewer a notion as old as Ibn Khaldoun.  “Man is civil by Nature” and forever shall He remain. The human being needs to talk, to express, to feel understood, to feel loved and needed and to feel that there is someone out there who relates to what he feels …

To fully grasp the essence of another human being, it is not enough to chat endlessly and rejoice in the amount of common points you have. It is much more … It is feeling at ease with the possible pauses, silences, sudden breeches and the inability to express one’s self at times ! To be comfortable and even savour the occasional mute episodes is an essential part of a good and fulfilling conversation. In those brief gaps, we feel the presence of the other, we become aware of his scent, his pulse and his heartbeat and thus we grow fonder.  In the absence of words, the essence rises to the surface …

“These people so scared of silence … These sound-oholics. These quiet-ophobics. “ As such speaks Chuck Palahniuk in his novel Lullaby.

This is why we ought to fall in love, not only with our eyes closed, but with all our senses put aside, for our senses do deceive us like Aristotle maintained. We should let our hearts take over our course of being in a relationship. This is what Theodore did … He stumbled upon Happiness in the voice of Samantha, an entirely alien essence to him, but gets him nonetheless. She fathoms his need to sleep on the whisper of a dear person, to wake up with the promise of beautiful morning words, to chat through aimless walks on the beach, to convey his worries without words … To simply be silent together …

Indeed, humans are incredibly fragile, they tend to shatter with the dread of solitude. However, simple words console them and the mere presence of another person makes them whole …


Saturday, April 19, 2014

For the Night is Long and Full of Longings ~




We aspire .. In spite of us, we dream, we do crave for something, whether attainable or beyond our reach, we do thirst for that which makes us whole and mirthful …

Dreams make us beautifully yet painfully Human. It aches to dream for it is only with consistent toil that we touch the end of the line and feel that our hopes are under our exhausted yet firm grasp.

It is believed that the human beings greatest punishment is to labour the earth for eternity so as to pay for the First Man’s Original Sin. I believe that Man’s hardest labour is to dream, for they haunt as long as we breathe. We close our eyes at night to give our souls up to the realm of unsatisfied wishes. The real world darkens as our eyelashes embrace each other to wake up amidst a world of utter perfection and bliss.

We yearn and we dwell on our yearnings as we progress in the course of our existence. We daydream, we get lost in an alien dimension in the blatant light of day, in the presence of life itself .. We neglect what it offers to delve into what we willingly offer ourselves .. Is it an escape ? Is it the decision of a soul at once tired and scared ? No !  It is the free choice of so brave a spirit  … A spirit that fearlessly turned her back on Life .. What is the use to linger in the throes of an existence that we so fiercely despise ?  

We daydream to rejoice in the aloofness of a life of our own choosing. It is those little moments amid the natural flow of day that stop us only to make us go forward. It is those short-lived episodes that unveil a possible prospect of joy in the enigmatic future that fuel our fatigued beings and them to motion.

As the light of day perishes, we do not easily surrender our spirits to dreamy sleep. On the verge of sleep, the soul hungers and desires. On the brink of a long unconscious night, the soul endures a lifetime of longings. It is a whole era; a Pre-Sleeping Era. Before sleep, the human being relives the day in its totality and links it, to his own logic, to a distant moment itching in the memory. Before sleep, the wounded cry, the blessed pray to preserve their happy state, the humiliated plot their revenge and the anxious calculate ways to persist in this life.

Therapeutic it is to plunge into The Pre-Sleeping Era, for it holds the ever-evasive shadow of a promise; a promise that one day, we might become what we aspire to be. The human being becomes the narrator of his own story; he recalls a joyful instant and fervently imagines its sequence .. He smiles over a mere possibility, sighs at the mere thought of love and build hopes upon a word or a faint glimpse of happiness …

Freud believed that in dreams, we quench all what we crave for in the wake of night. I believe, however, that ere our daily dark slumber, we consciously weave stories of the might-have-been ..

And that is how ferociously we want what we want …


Tuesday, April 15, 2014

Nocturnal Ruminations over Life, Love and Fear ~

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           -  It is the emptiness of expectation ..


-          - How can something inexistent empties us so ?

-          - You sit still, with your heart hung on possibilities ..

-          - Day-dreaming; it is the logic of an unquenched heart

-           - It is a bitterly delightful way to self-destruction

-          - The unacknowledged love that palpitates in your veins becomes a subtle poison that    relaxes your being to the point of weariness.

-          - So, wanting something unattainable produces lethargy?

-          - It is despair, it consumes and exhausts your whole existence ..

-          - That is why you find a wounded spirit reduced to a corner…

-          - That is why lovers adore the piercing silence of the night … It echoes the aching    emptiness inside of them, days pass impervious to their sufferings, but the stillness of the  night consoles them …

-          - ‘Tis true then, lovers are forlorn ..

-          - And they will remain so as long as they don’t wrench what they long for with what makes  us amazingly human: Struggle

-         -  They are creatures of the night because Life despises them for recoiling from her !

-          - And if they do not wake up and toil, they will be forever exiled ...


                                    ألم يقل أبو القاسم الشابي                                           : " ألا انهض وسر في سبيل الحياة ...  فمن نام لم تنتظره الحيـــــــاة    

  




                                                                                   






                                                                                                         

Wednesday, April 9, 2014

Upon a Melody and a Gaze ~


 The touch of a string

 The birth of a note  

 A sigh ..

 With the sway of his bow

 You forthwith know

 How it feels to fly ..



 A lingering haze, a helpless smile,

 My heart and I

 Blissfully drunk

 Deliciously sunk

 In the blink of an eye

 Bitter-sweet gasps

 Blithe waltz in Adagio

 The heart cries “Oh My!”

 Notes faint and die

 The whole world shrunk

 With a look of his eye …