Korczak’s Children
Last night I saw the best production of a play I’ve ever seen. I’m still vibrating in resonance with the beauty and humanity of it. The play was called Korczak’s Children, by Jeffrey Hatcher. An excellent play, but the thing about this production that made it bust my heart (in a good way) was the children who played children, and the man who played Korczak, Don Kraus.
There has to be a phrase: art imitating art, death intimating life? Something in the ‘form follows function’ line. I don’t know, but it was beyond a normal stage production. It was partly the poignancy of the sometimes less-than-ideal acting from those kids that made it so amazing for me. I’m not one generally to go all smoogey about children on stage. This time I did. Way smoogey. Who cares about perfection, when art and life merge so perfectly?
Perhaps it was because my best friend played the lead. Goodness he was magnificent, hunching his back, gritting his teeth, and holding Death in abeyance for all of us, but most especially the children on stage. Of course the abeyance was temporary, but it was magnificent, and it made me feel like a hero just to watch it.
From a witness who saw the procession of Korczak with the children from his Jewish orphanage in Warsaw on their way to the death train:
“A miracle occurred. Two hundred children did not cry out. Two hundred pure souls, condemned to death, did not weep. Not one of them ran away. None tried to hide. Like stricken swallows they clung to their teacher and mentor, to their father and brother, Janusz Korczak, so that he might protect and preserve them. Janusz Korczak was marching, his head bent forward, holding the hand of a child, without a hat, a leather belt around his waist, and wearing high boots. A few nurses were followed by two hundred children, dressed in clean and meticulously cared for clothes, as they were being carried to the altar. (…) On all sides the children were surrounded by Germans, Ukrainians, and this time also Jewish policemen. They whipped and fired shots at them. The very stones of the street wept at the sight of the procession.”
Wish I was a better writer, or was taking some kind of good-writing drug, because I can’t begin to accomplish here what I experienced there, at Loveland High School last night. Unusual for a high-school production to bring in both an adult for the lead and elementary school kids for the younger roles, but it was perfect, the best example of the horrors and heroism of the Holocaust I’ve ever seen, and most especially felt. All the way to the bones of my soul.
There are no Jewish children. There are only children, and God must have forsaken those Nazis who forgot that.
Bless our hearts,
LWIII
You’re still resonating with the beauty and humanity of the high-school play you saw last night? That has to mean that its beauty and humanity and your beauty and humanity are getting together to congratulate one another on their mutual beauty and humanity. So how beautiful are you? And are you human? That would be cool. And plus also, there are no Jewish Children? What did you do with them? I hope there are Jewish children. The ones I know aren’t ashamed to be Jewish, in fact they’re generally pretty proud of it. If your point is we’re all just human on the inside, you’re not making any point at all, unless you have some Hitlerian loathing for animals. So do you?
Hey Derek, thanks for the comment!
No sense trying to explain myself to someone so set on being mean, so I won’t.
And I do know there are Jewish children, for pete’s sake.
Sheesh,
LWIII (not human, fyi, if human means being like you)
Well that’s really the point, you see. You chumpity chumps who think that declaring someone human is a profound and ethically unimpeachable form of praise just don’t understand that you’re really saying that being human is some kind of metaphysical category from which you can exclude whomever you want. That’s moronic, and its implications are racist. If you told your dog it was not a dog because it did something naughty your dog would not care, and your friends would laugh their asses off because you’re daft. Humanity is nothing but a biological species. When you say you’re resonating with the humanity of a play, you’re saying nothing at all, except that you don’t think that unsatisfactory dramas feature humanity. So learn from me and avoid repeating that kind of dopeyness any more. And finally, that your consider this high-school production “the best example of the horrors and heroism of the Holocaust I’ve ever seen, and most especially felt,” has to tell us how extraordinarily limited your experience, your imagination, and your will to comprehend are. Have you lived under a rock? I don’t care about being mean; I get my jollies from sending messages from reality to the smug, self-righteous numb-nuts who fill up the blogosphere with all this willed ignorance and blandness. You all love to blabber on about how open-minded you are and full of desire to discover new and unexpected truth and beauty, but you’re actually just constantly reinforcing your own dumb, hateful prejudices and thick-headed misinterpretations. The real problem with me — troll that I am — is that I find the things you don’t want to hear and bring them to your attention. I tell you truths and you interpret them as meanness because you’re so determined to keep the filthy little shell of your complacency wrapped closely around you.
Oh, and finally, “the bones of my soul”? Wow, boy, that’s a crappy metaphor.
Hey Derek,
You misunderstand me. I never said I’m open-minded. Not something I aspire to. And I do agree that I’m dumb. Just not as dumb as you, which would take some doing. Though I love to blabber. You’re right on about that. And I agree that saying something is human is not very clear writing. I was speaking from my heart, not my mind. Sorry, I know you hate that.
So you think it’s impossible for a high-school play to be good? I do know that this play was much better than the movie Schildler’s List, and the book as well, when graded by my lights, which are emotional rather than intellectual.
Not sure what reality you come from. Sadoland, apparently, or Dumbassville perhaps. Certainly your grew up in Pain-In-The-Asstown and moved to Hypoctrite Hollow after your teen years.
When I say something is human, it partakes of the word humane, which you ain’t familiar with. I will mention that there’s nothing I don’t want to hear. Lay it on me, brother. Always glad to help you insult me, since that’s how you get your jollies. I live to serve.
I’m sorry you’re so sad and need to abuse others to feel better. Good luck knowing what reality is. Your impression that you know what it is shows the level of your thinking, Mister Literal. You don’t have a very good start at the whole reality thing, Derek, since it does include things other than anger.
Thanks for commenting! And remember, a smile a day keeps you from making such an ass of yourself.
“The filthy little shell of your complacency.” Tee hee. You crack me up, dude. I’ll try to remember to wrap it tightly, to maintain my smugness. Appreciate you pointing out what a crappy writer I am. Will keep at it and maybe I’ll get better.
Thanks for the laugh!
Yours ever,
LWIII
Really? Emotional lights? I just see smug. And dumb. See, dumb is not an absence of smart, it’s an extra special kind of willful stupidity where you choose your blockages and defend them vigorously. Like the idea that I implied a high-school play can’t be good. I implied that you have been willfully dumb enough for however many years you’ve been around that you managed to avoid understanding just how horrifying and wretched the holocaust and its effects were and consequently that you could make the observation that a high-school play has finally broken through your wall of dumb and and expect also that you won’t make yourself look like an ignorant douche. Douche. You’re not judging with your heart or your feelings. Your judging with your douchebagness. Douchebag.
Really? Emotional lights? I just see smug. And dumb. See, dumb is not an absence of smart, it’s an extra special kind of willful stupidity where you choose your blockages and defend them vigorously. Like the idea that I implied a high-school play can’t be good. I implied that you have been willfully dumb enough for however many years you’ve been around that you managed to avoid understanding just how horrifying and wretched the holocaust and its effects were and consequently that you could make the observation that a high-school play has finally broken through your wall of dumb and and expect also that you won’t make yourself look like an ignorant douche. Douche. You’re not judging with your heart or your feelings. You’re judging with your douchebagness. Douchebag.
Well, “Derek”, my kind and solicitous pal, good to see you back! I was getting worried. I love stuff like this. Thanks for all the insults. I’ll hang on to them for later, if I want to feel bad – though I’ll need to beef them up a bit to get any results. One thing you might not understand is that I already hate myself, so you’re wasting your breath. Nice try though. To be effective at trolling you need to find somebody who likes himself.
Not to mention your insults are kinda lame, like a teenager’s. Not a real smart teenager, alas. Douchebag has been worn out by better insulters than you. All that practice for nothing. Oh well. Or maybe you are one, since you sound very much like a grim teen on inhalants.
One reason all you see is smug is because that’s what you are. We don’t see the world as it is, we see it as we are. Do you really think you don’t come across as self-satisfied? Come on.
You somehow have convinced yourself that calling people names makes you better than them. Surprise, it’s not a contest. Try to kickstart the ol’ rusty peanut and maybe you’ll understand that. Or grow a heart. You must have been abused as a child, poor darling. And name-calling is for children. You might at least be able to understand that, despite your obvious handicaps.
I would love to have a real discussion with you, Derek, about esthetics or the arts, or what an asshole I am (one of my favorite subjects), but you won’t allow it, because you’re too scared, I’m guessing. What if somebody knows something you don’t? A real nightmare there. I’m safe, brother. I’m sure you’re much more knowledgeable than me. Plus I make lots of mistakes, so you’ll have a boner practically the whole time!
Neener neener on you too, you big poopyhead.
Ever your insultee,
LWIII
I implied that you have been willfully dumb enough for however many years you’ve been around that you managed to avoid understanding just how horrifying and wretched the holocaust and its effects were and consequently that you could make the observation that a high-school play has finally broken through your wall of dumb and and expect also that you won’t make yourself look like an ignorant person.
So anyway. I’ve been a little busy for the last couple of days and unable to devote the sort of time to responding that you deserve, lonesy. I apologize if my insults are not appropriate. It’s just that you wrote: “Hey Mr. Toast, can you beat me up too? One thing about artists is that we need to suffer our asses off and you’re here to make sure we do! (do have to say you’re kinda funny, though, in a sadistic way).” So you’ll understand if I’m confused. I’ll quit including the insults, though, since you have changed your mind about that. The point at issue can be what I noted in the comment above, plus also, your main critique of my critique seems to be a version of “I’m rubber. You’re glue”; is that correct? Your main position is that what I say about you really applies to myself, yes? That’s all fine and stuff, but not really a strong refutation. Do you have any other points to make in response to my responses?
Well bless my stars. Thanks Derek! You actually do want to talk.
There’s never any need for me to be willfully dumb, I do that naturally. I’ve understood how wretched and horrifying the holocaust was for many years. That amazing play just brought it home to me in a clearer and deeper emotional way that I ever felt before.
And I’m not really worried about looking like an ignorant person, because I am one. Bonafide, dye-in-the-wool fool. (Unlike you, I’m fond of fools, much more than smart people.)
One way to help not being confused by what I say is to not take it literally. Plus I have a whole bunch of different parts in my psyche that tend to play off each other. I’m generally not out to prove a specific point in what I say, since I’m not trying to prove anything, other than life is a mystery and those who say it ain’t are mistaken.
Once again, thank you very much for actually talking to me, Derek. The insulting thing was just me yelling back at you. I tend to think I’m cleverer than I actually am, sorry. That’s one of my foolish bits.
Tally ho!
LWIII
So now you think that, just because I’m not calling you names, I’m not insulting you? What I want you to understand is that your dumbness cannot be a simple, natural state — it’s the result of a careful program of tendentiousness, obstinacy, and solipsism. So, when I call you dumb, I’m calling you tendentious, obstinate, and solipsistic. Does that qualify as an insult?
Regarding the problem of confusion about your meaning: do you mean to say that I shouldn’t assume that what you write has anything to do with what you mean? That’s another kind of willed ignorance on your part and it’s never a defence I’ll allow. The meanings and implications that bubble up from your ragged prose are fair game. If you’d rather they weren’t, you’d best not publish them on the web.
Oh, and I read a little of your novel — Stonebonker, or whatever you call it — nauseating.
Yeah, you’re right, your mere existence is an insult to all humanity, and the cosmos itself. Poor us, having to have you around. I’m sure God must be royally embarrassed.
Darn, and there I thought we were gonna be friends. Oh well.
Thanks for trying to plow through some of Stonebinky, though. I know it’s not your cup o’ tea, since it doesn’t harp on how bad everybody sucks. And it is rather nauseating for grownupa and people who know how to write – first whack and all. Gotta agree with you there.
I’d love it if you could point me to somewhere on the web where you admire someone, just so I can check to see if you’re rational.
Have a good week!
LWIII