‘The Tramp and the Fool’

     
“God hath chosen the foolish things of this world to confound the wise…For the wisdom of this world is foolishness with God.”

Corinthians 27:3


Sure, I wish the History channel would incorporate historical documentary into its programming, but I don’t think that’s “in the cards” any more, and I do enjoy some of its popular shows, like Pawn Stars. The episode broadcast this evening caught my eye thanks to an Al Hirschfeld caricature of Charlie Chaplin that was shown. To wit:

Titled “The End,” this is the final work of the artist intended for sale. I had no idea Hirschfeld was a lifelong friend of his subject. That story is explained here:

Al Hirschfeld and Charlie Chaplin were life-long friends. And Chaplin was the subject of Hirschfeld’s pen many times in Hirschfeld’s long career. The affection and respect that Hirschfeld had for Chaplin is fully evident in this and every other Chaplin that Hirschfeld drew.

Charlie Chaplin, The End was the last edition that Hirschfeld signed. And there is something else that is very important about Chaplin: In the 1930s Hirschfeld took a sojourn around the world as a passenger on successive commercial cargo ships. It was not comfortable, no, but as a young artist, Hirschfeld didn’t mind. The cargo ships carried him around the world, and when Hirschfeld found a port of call to his liking he would disembark and then continue his journey when the wanderlust grabbed him again.

When his ship docked on the isle of Bali, Hirschfeld fell in love with the magic he found around him. During the weeks that he stayed there, it was his routine to set up an easel near the piers and capture his surroundings with his brush.

Hirschfeld became used to the crowds of passengers from luxury liners who would often gather around him as an audience, onlookers over the artist’s shoulder. On one particular afternoon, Hirschfeld could feel the crowd thinning behind him as usual, but he was aware that one person still lingered to watch him work. Not wanting to be distracted by idle conversation, Hirschfeld was determined not to turn around. Hirschfeld continued to watercolor.

His fan kept watching. After what seemed to be an interminable amount of time, the man spoke: “Tell me how much money it would take for you to support yourself for one full year, so that you can continue to be an artist without worrying about money.” Hirschfeld took this question as idle chatter and fired back an unconsidered answer as he continued to work. A few moments later, Hirschfeld saw a hand reaching over his right shoulder. In that hand was a piece of paper. “Take this,” the man said. The piece of paper was a check made out in the exact amount that Hirschfeld had cited. The signature read: Charles Chaplin.

It was the beginning of a life-long friendship.

It brings tears to my eyes, still, that Hirschfeld’s first patron would also be the last portrait that Hirschfeld would ever sign, on January 20, 2003. The name of that portrait had been settled before Hirschfeld even began the working on it. Its title: “The End.”

Margo Feiden

(Emphases mine.)

It was Chaplin’s character, the Little Tramp, which made him an international superstar and Hollywood’s first millionaire actor. As iconic as any personality ever invented for film, the Tramp magnificently portrayed the eternal outcast—socially undesirable and suffering all manner of dangers and degradations, yet triumphant in the end thanks to his quick wittedness and happy adaptability. Like any of the fools in Shakespeare’s tragedies, Chaplin’s Tramp sees the truth, because he is not foolish at all, and he speaks the truth when truth is needed most. We’ve all seen him ambling about in his distinctive, humorous gait, with his cheap bamboo cane, and finding a flower to display in his scruffy lapel to attain some semblance of dignity and beauty.

Now consider The Fool of the Tarot:

Author Gordon Strong in his The Five Tarots writes:

The Fool has no identity; he is the phenomenal element, one always at odds with the causal. And we must never neglect his sense of the absurd for he refuses to accept any conventional or absolute truth. He also teaches us that humor is a path to the transcendental. We must never be too serious where transcendental matters are concerned, for this makes us heavy-hearted and it is impossible for our joy to take wing. The Fool thrives on improvisation, spontaneity—making the moment exclusively his own. He does not reflect or employ reason, yet his elevated state of awareness enables him to grasp the unity within chaos—the apparently haphazard events which make up existence. The Fool is every one of us, but he is also beyond our understanding. From that place originates his power—he is part of the unknown.

He carries in his left hand a white rose, the Rosa Mundi—soul of the world. The most perfect of flowers, the bloom of Eden—it sustains purity and passion, life and death… The rose is a sign of paradise, that of expanding awareness—its five petals representing the five senses… The Tarot Fool never causes sorrow by committing a rash deed; he is without guile. He never hides the truth from us; it is there for all to behold—if we have the sense to recognize it. It lies always within us, if only we could acknowledge it.

(Again, emphases mine.)

Charles Chaplin in City Lights, 1931.

I have no idea if Charlie Chaplin had any interest in hidden wisdom of any kind, let alone the Tarot, but the Rider-Waite deck, with its illustrations by Pamela Coleman-Smith, was published for the public and began its ever rising popularity in 1910, only five years before Chaplin stars in The Tramp, indelibly imbuing the collective consciousness with that loving and lovable symbol on celluloid.

Not making a point. Just an observation.
     

‘The King and Jung’

   

The Ardagh Chalice, from Ireland, c. 8th century CE.

I have missed too many meetings of the Joseph Campbell Foundation’s New York City Chapter this year, but that wasn’t going to happen Wednesday night, when a trip uptown was scheduled to enjoy a lecture at the 92nd Street Y. The C.G. Jung Foundation for Analytical Psychology sponsored “C.G. Jung and the Mythology of King Arthur,” for which Dr. Beth Darlington, professor of English at Vassar College, skillfully explained the Arthurian legends in the Jungian context. She also is a board member of the Foundation’s Jung Institute of New York, which trains mental health professionals in Jungian analysis, and she herself is a psychoanalyst in private practice.

Janet M. Careswell, Executive Director of the C.G. Jung Foundation, introduces Professor Beth Darlington, with her own Grail, to discuss Jung and the Mythology of King Arthur at the 92nd Street Y in New York City December 3.

When examining the psychological aspects of the rituals and symbols of Freemasonry, it is inevitable that Jung’s ideas – for example, on archetypes, individuation and the collective unconscious – will factor into one’s studies, even unintentionally. And when examining Jung himself, one learns of the importance he placed on the myths inspired by the legendary King Arthur, how elements of the stories gratified his theories on the psyche.

But anyway, when viewing these legends and considering them as “cultural dreams,” the Masonic eye can’t help but see thematic connections. There are far better sources to read about the Arthurian legends than I could provide myself, so without getting into too much detail – and there are many trails to follow in different directions – I’ll quickly sketch what I think are the two main branches of the myth.

Joseph of Arimatheaea, as painted by a monk 
of the Brotherhood of St. Seraphim of Sarov
in Norfolk, England.

1. The Grail is the chalice from which Christ drank at the Last Supper, and into which His blood was collected during the Crucifixion, and which was brought to Glastonbury by Joseph of Arimathaea. Christians know this symbol in their Eucharist.

The Last Supper inspired King Arthur's Round Table. Thanks to Michelangelo, we think of the table at the Last Supper as rectangular, with Christ and the Apostles improbably seated on one side, facing us. But pre-Renaissance understandings of the scene place all participants at a round table.

2. The Grail is not a vessel at all, but is a stone, possibly an emerald which had fallen from Satan’s possession during his fight with God. From this understanding, it also could be construed as the Philosopher’s Stone of Alchemy.

Either way, it is the subject of The Quest. In his own travels, Masonic Man ventures from East to West in search of That Which Was Lost.

Here are the other Grail-Craft parallels that appear to me:

There is a theory that Arthur himself is based on King Athelstan, to whom Masonic legends, dating nearly as far back as the dawn of the Arthurian myth itself, attribute Masonic parentage.

A temple is built on the Mountain of Salvation for the purpose of housing the Grail, and an Order of Grail Knights is formed. The Grail keeper is a king. Solomon built his temple on Mt. Moriah for the purpose of housing the Ark and providing his people a religious centrality. He is king, but there is a priestly Order.

This king suffers a wound; he survives but is in agony. His torment causes his idyllic land to degenerate into the Waste Land. In other words, the leader suffers an act of violence, and in the absence of his leadership, there is confusion and suffering. The return of the Grail restores peace and harmony.

The Grail, as a vessel, has the power to nourish the peoples of the Waste Land. It is bottomless. Think Cornucopia.

Three seekers succeed in finding the Grail, with varying degrees of success. There is Galahad, the virtuous knight; Perceval, the Fool character; and Bors, the ordinary man. All three are present the final time the Grail is used ritually. This takes place in the Heavenly City in the East.

There is a ritual question that must be asked by the true quester: Whom does the Grail serve? In other versions, the question is: What ails you? The answering of these questions allows the wounded king to recover (but die in peace) and for the waters of the land to return to the Waste Land, restoring its beauty and bounty.

Throughout, there are noticable opposites and dualities. There are events in the East and West. Themes intertwine Christian and pagan beliefs. Human and divine. Good and evil. Males and females are at odds. "Only conscious compassion can heal these divisions," said Professor Darlington. That compassion is that ritual question, the asking of which triggers the rebirth of the Waste Land, not very different from how the loss of the Word throws the workmen into chaos until the giving of the substitute, upon the highly symbolic Five Points of Fellowship, allows for the completion of KST.

One final note for you neo-Templars: In at least one Grail legend, the Knights Templar themselves appear as guardians of the Grail Castle. Their suppression in the early 14th century had the effect of almost outlawing the Grail myths, which had to be perpetuated sub rosa.