From: Mark Steven Heyman (markheyman@infoproconsulting.com)
Date: Mon Aug 02 2004 - 03:52:55 BST
Hi all,
Here are a couple of passages from Jerzy Kosinski's great novel, "The
Painted Bird":
"Lekh would become possessed by a silent rage. He would stare
solemnly at the birds in the cages, mumbling something to himself.
Finally, after prolonged scrutiny, he would choose the strongest
bird, tie it to his wrist and prepare stinking paints of different
colors which he mixed together from the most varied components. When
the colors satisfied him, Lekh would turn the bird over and paint its
wings, head, and breast in rainbow hues until it became more dappled
and vivid than a bouquet of wildflowers.
Then he would go into the thick of the forest. There Lekh took out
the painted bird and ordered me to hold it in my hand and squeeze it
lightly. The bird would begin to twitter and attract a flock of the
same species which would fly nervously over our heads. Our prisoner,
hearing them, strained toward them, warbling more loudly, its little
heart, locked in its freshly painted breast, beating violently.
When a sufficient number of birds gathered above our heads, Lekh
would give me a sign to release the prisoner. It would soar, happy
and free, a spot of rainbow against the backdrop of clouds, and then
plunge into the waiting grown flock. For an instant the birds were
confounded. The painted bird circled from one end of the flock to the
other, vainly trying to convince its kin that it was one of them.
But, dazzled by its brilliant colors, they flew around it
unconvinced. The painted bird would be forced farther and farther
away as it zealously tried to enter the ranks of the flock. We saw
soon afterwards how one bird after another would peel off in a fierce
attack. Shortly the many-hued shape lost its place in the sky and
dropped to the ground. These incidents happened often. When we
finally found the painted birds they were usually dead. Lekh keenly
examined the number of blows which the birds had received. Blood
seeped through their colored wings, diluting the paint and soiling
Lekh's hands.
One day he trapped a large raven, whose wings he painted red, the
breast green, and the tail blue. When a flock of ravens appeared over
our hut, Lekh freed the painted bird. As soon as it joined the flock
a desperate battle began. The changeling was attacked from all sides.
Black, red, green, blue feathers began to drop at our feet. The
ravens ran amuck in the skies, and suddenly the painted raven
plummetted to the freshly-plowed soil. It was still alive, opening
its beak and vainly trying to move its wings. Its eyes had been
pecked out, and fresh blood streamed over its painted feathers. It
made yet another attempt to flutter up from the sticky earth, but its
strength was gone."
msh says:
The Painted Bird is the perfect symbol of the Brujo, don't you think?
Is the Brujo a stranger, the outsider scapegoat created by society,
or someone just mystically different and therefore abhorrent to
order? Kosinski reveals both sides: if the Brujo is unlike the
members of the herd, he is cast out of the group and destroyed; if he
is like them, but a Scapegoat is required, society intervenes and
makes him appear different, so that he may be cast out and destroyed.
This is what discrimination, invalidation and scapegoating is all
about, I think. We search for differences to alienate the Brujo,
creating or emphasizing them, if we must. By casting out the Brujo
we comfort ourselves. To herd animals, like us, safety lies in
similarity. This is why conformity is welcomed, and deviance
despised. Society everywhere conspires against the individuality of
its members.
So is the Brujo a mystical other, or just a painted bird?
Thoughts, anyone?
Mark Steven Heyman (msh)
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