The Emperor’s New Clothes

The Emperor’s New Clothes by Hans Christian Andersen bears a great resemblance to the world we live in and goes to the heart of two values that are so vital to our survival and well-being, truth and the courage to speak it or at least acknowledge it. This particular fairy tale does not include the usual fairies and the hero / heroine’s quest. It is the story of an emperor, who is preoccupied with his lavish wardrobe. We get the impression that he might be somewhat superficial, narcissistic; void of depth and certain virtues and qualities. In any case, he is in constant seeking of others’ admiration of his regal attire. Then two men appear in the emperor’s court, masquerading as weavers, who promise to weave the most magnificent clothes for the emperor out of a magic thread that remains invisible to those unworthy to discern it. It is as if they intend to set up an experiment to prove how easily people acquiesce to fallacies, believing what they are told to believe, overriding reason and their own perception of reality, disregarding their hearts and what is obvious to a young child before fear and shame based conditioning disfigures it. So the weavers set up a loom in public where they supposedly worked for hours with the invisible thread. And although nobody could see the woven fabric not one person dared to stand out and speak the truth of fear of being considered unworthy, and probably also, because they feared the consequences of doing so. The emperor also fears such exposure, so he decides to parade in the street in his invisible attire. It is a small child whose innocence, ignorance of consequences of speaking out like being thrown in dungeons, prison cells, etc, and whose mind is probably not yet programmed with so many inhibitions and prohibitions that is able to speak the truth, which penetrates the mass hypocrisy and paralysis. The child’s honesty seems to break the bubble or the mass trance. It is a young child whose curiosity and capacity to be mindfully in the present moment and to trust its own senses have not yet been corrupted by his/ her social environment that speaks the obvious. It is as if the young child has broken a spell, awakening everyone to what is in front of their eyes. This multilayered tale is so relevant to our world and living where we are more or less oblivious to reality and often too scared to speak the truth; to call out the naked emperor.  The expression ‘the emperor has or wears no clothes’ describes our fear to stand up against the status quo, to express our truth and to examine what we have been told and unquestioningly believe and accept as our own truths. According to the Longman dictionary, it is ‘an expression often used to describe a situation in which people are afraid to criticize something because everyone else seems to think it is good or important’. As an idiom, ‘the use of the story’s title refers to something widely accepted as true or professed as being praiseworthy, due to an unwillingness of the general population to criticize it or be seen as going against popular opinion. The phrase “emperor’s new clothes” has become an idiom about logical fallacies’ (Wikipedia).Read more

Part of the poem Song of Childhood by Peter Handke, which recurs throughout Wim Wenders’ beautiful!!! film: Wings of Desire

When the child was a child

It walked with its arms swinging,

wanted the brook to be a river,

the river to be a torrent,

and this puddle to be the sea.

When the child was a child,

it didn’t know that it was a child,

everything was soulful,

and all souls were one. Read more ..

Physical pain, the pain of the body itself, is no longer the constituent element of the penalty. From being an art of unbearable sensations punishment has become an economy of suspended rights” Michel Foucault

Around a table meals are shared, stories are told of where we’ve been and where we might be going, confessions are made, questions are debated and laughter is generated. During shared meals with others we can get a glimpse of our connectivity and common humanity and we get an opportunity to nourish others and to receive nourishment from others, and from a religious or spiritual perspective to take up a place at the table may include the notions of a sacred space and to be worthy of. Shared meals have the potential to nourish us emotionally, spiritually and physically. I read somewhere about the discipline of table fellowship.  Our tables can then provide spaces where diversity could be invited, new stories attended to and bridges created; a place of connection and belonging. Jesus had made it a practice to eat with marginalized people, ‘the sinners and the outcasts’, which was a practice denounced by the Pharisees and dignitaries of the time; however, he had chosen to not go along with the customs of his day. He practised table fellowship and he invited all to the table. It may, therefore, be worthwhile pondering on questions like: How inclusive is the table?  Or How big is God’s table?  Who gets to determine its width and breadth? What are the consequences of exclusivity? Is there room for all or are only certain people welcome at the table or the club? What are the benefits of being in their club?

Why am I writing this today? Firstly, because belonging has been something that has always interested me and I have also had to wrestle with. Plus, I found a lot of photos of meals I had hosted over time, meals that included friends and family, but also acquaintances and colleagues and students. With some classes over the years, as a treat and a fun way to learn food related vocabulary and practise speaking, we had prepared simple meals in my kitchen (the UNICEF cook books for children are great for kids to engage in making food) and then enjoyed a meal with food that they had prepared themselves. I had always connected meals to more than simply eating to refuel, probably because I grew up in a family where my mother cooked and offered meals to others on all sorts of occasions when I was a child, Some Sundays, even though she was worn out by her long working weeks, she would get up to make ‘loukoumades’, perfectly shaped fluffy dumplings, something I never mastered, and Greek coffee served in the tiny porcelain cups she had brought from Greece. I set the table using my mother’s good china and then we invited the people who were staying in our house for breakfast. It was an offering and an opportunity for the adults to chat and tell stories of longing and missing their kin back in Greece and their frustrations and financial struggles, but also folklore tales, which I still vaguely remember. Forming a circle round a table and sharing a meal creates the possibility of many outcomes both positive and negative; one being a sense of connection, respect and belonging along with pleasure, physical nourishment and the satisfaction of our many taste buds.

A table can become a metaphor for all the ways we get together, at home, in class, in community. We gather at the table of kin and friendship, of celebration and even of mourning loved ones, of learning, and of breaking and sharing bread. Also, regarding tables a few days ago I briefly referred to how the artist Marina Abramović has explored the relationship between performer and audience, the limits of the body and the possibilities of the mind. In particular, her art performance Rhythm O, an experiment to explore the relationship between the artist and the public, which as I mentioned brought to my mind the Stanford prison experimented, by Phillip Zimbardo, which demonstrated that when people are empowered by authority or lack of external laws and rules, there is the possibility of their becoming abusive to those without power, had included a long table covered with a white tablecloth. Seventy two objects that the public could use to interact with her, like grapes, honey, alcohol and make-up, but also things like matches, a brush, a bone, a newspaper, a camera, razors, scissors, knives, chains and a loaded gun were laid on it. After the performance she said: ‘the experience I learned was that … if you leave decision to the public, you can be killed… I felt really violated: they cut my clothes, stuck rose thorns in my stomach, one person aimed the gun at my head, and another took it away. It created an aggressive atmosphere. After exactly 6 hours, as planned, I stood up and started walking toward the public. Everyone ran away, escaping an actual confrontation’. It was as if through her willingness to make herself the art object and to endure the suffering in public she had made her commitment to something unquestionable. Her art performance could also be viewed as an offering of herself as a canvas on which the violence became visible, an act of ‘bearing witness’ to acts, practices, dynamics or narratives. The circle around you has the power to diminish you, but it can also be a circle of light, support and warmth, like a nourishing meal – a homecoming.