Dear David,
The prospect of requiring paranoid schizophrenics to come in for blood monitoring reminds me of the old bumper sticker: “Just because you’re paranoid doesn’t mean they aren’t really out to get you.” I have visions of Louise Fletcher in One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest–let’s add that to our list of crazy-people/saner-than-sane-people movies–deciding that all Beethoven and Wagner need is an extra dose of Prozac and some shock treatments. Next scene is the two of them harmonizing to “Achy Breaky Heart.” I have seen the side effects of anti-psychotic drugs up close. They can continue even when the patient stops taking the drug. I can understand why the most rational decision a mental patient makes might be to refuse the medication. And I haven’t met many bureaucrats–or many doctors–I’d trust to decide who has to take what.
Compounding that is the troubling history that shows where genius is involved, society’s most rational decision, if not its most compassionate, may be to let some crazies stay crazy. I once worked with a man who was going through a brutal divorce. His solace was work. He came in early, he stayed late, he worked weekends. I heard the two big bosses talking to each other about him. One said, “We really need to force him to get some help; working like this is not healthy for him.” The other one said, only half kidding, “You’re right, but can we wait until he finishes clearing up the backlog?” Joyce Maynard’s new book about her love affair with J.D. Salinger reveals that he is still writing and has completed at least two more books, but thinks of publication as an “interruption.” Maybe if he went on Haldol, he would not be a recluse, but unlikely we’d get any more books or that in any sense he would agree to that he’d be happier. Did you ever see the Larry Sanders episode where Sanders’ gag writer falls in love and stops being funny? Kind of a variation on Woody Allen’s joke about how his brother thinks he’s a chicken, but they haven’t done anything about it because they need the eggs.
How do we preserve the good side of madness that has given us some of our most sublime moments of art, given us the objects that show the highest level of humanity, while getting rid of the bad side of madness that results in pain, death, and destruction? The same thing can be said of faith. Religion gives us both our highs and our lows, our cathedrals and our Inquisitions, our Mother Teresas and our jihads. I agree with you about The Apostle. In fact, it was your review in Slate that persuaded me I had to see it. The same passion that led to acts of violence and breach of trust fueled Sonny’s connection to God and his connection to those who heard him preach and were changed by it. Good for Duvall the writer and director to have the courage to give us a character so complex and good for Duvall the actor for making it work. And good for him for making us ask whether you can have one without the other. Someday, the ability of passionate eccentrics to inflict unacceptable losses on the public at large (biotoxins, chemical weapons, terrorist nuclear weapons) may grow so great that we will find ourselves settling for that safe, homogenized middle range, kept in control by monitoring everyone’s blood chemistry.
I liked your Voltaire-esque defense of the porn shops. You may deplore (or at least be uninterested) in what they sell, but you defend to the death their right to sell it. I agree with you that the Daily News editorial was annoyingly precious, considering that even the mainstream press is turning the Monica mess into one big episode of Jerry Springer. Talk about sleazoids. I have no problem with zoning restrictions to limit the location or outside signage of porn shops, though, especially given the broader access to pornography through mail, cable, and of course the Internet.
I agree that Henry’s outburst at the ball was jarring in Ever After. As a matter of narrative, they needed it in order to have a reason for her to run away and leave her slipper. As a matter of character, it was harder to take, just when we had become so fond of him. I decided that he was angry at being humiliated in public rather than just reverting to his old snobby self. I was also fond of Leonardo da Vinci as a substitute fairy godmother. And I thought the scene with the Spanish princess was just hilarious!
When Jim Henson died, my friend Andrew Stephen wrote an appreciation that quoted a little boy who said, “But is Kermit all right?” When assured that he was, the boy nodded. “That’s all right, then.” We’ll all miss Shari Lewis, but your baby daughter will love the videotapes and audio tapes she made with Lambchop, Charlie Horse, and Hush Puppy as much as my kids and I did. I’m glad to think of you watching them with her someday.
