Thursday, March 27, 2014

Johannes' Dad is Roger Waters: Drawing a Parallel Between Kaffir Boy and Pink Floyd

With the final piece of the Kaffir Boy unit coming up tomorrow, I would just like to take some time to reflect on the book, and perhaps offer a new perspective on it all.  Specifically, there is a quote at the end of the book that initially, for lack of a better word, mystified me:
“What had [apartheid] created within my father’s heart a granite wall, which had prevented him from expressing feelings of love, care, compassion and understanding?
A wall, you say?  Like this one?
    Say what you want about the album in terms of music.  Personally, I think it was too dominated by Roger Waters, whose lyrics can be as annoyingly nihilistic as his voice can be just... hard to listen to.  Normally I think Pink Floyd was at their best when the individual band members really collaborated with one another, producing tons of great work including Dark Side of the Moon, which is most certainly the greatest album of all time (Rolling Stone put it at number 43 on their 500 greatest albums of all time, which is a legitimate rating given how the once-respected magazine is now a political column away from being Complex).  Also, Pink Floyd is equally enjoyable when David Gilmour causes the universe to continually reset and explode through his guitar playing, such as on “Comfortably Numb” (and yet he is only the 82nd best guitar player according to the ever-reliable Rolling Stone… actually they recently bumped him up to 14th, so I can’t be too harsh).
    Anyhow, the music itself is not what I am here to analyze, but rather the underlying notion/theme/message of the album: the ideological concept of ‘the wall’.  Pink Floyd is certainly not the first to come up with this idea, and Mathabane certainly did not plagiarize.  Rather, ‘the wall’ itself is just a fundamental parable of life, a parable of which we all must all take caution lest we become its next victims.
    So, the concept of ‘the wall’, at its most basic level, begins with the assumption that life as a whole is just this tornado of irrationality and pain and, above all, insanity.  This sounds tremendously bleak on its own merits.  Therefore, our instincts tell us to isolate ourselves from life; just construct a mental wall to protect ourselves from its misery.  This, however, the concept warns us not to do.  For in isolation, our minds will only deteriorate and push us into a world more absurd and bleak than the real one.
    Such is the case for both “Mr. Pink Floyd” (not Steve Buscemi), the main character of The Wall, and Johannes’ father in Kaffir Boy.  Both quickly realize the insufferable nature of the worlds they live in, both desperately try to protect themselves by disconnecting from it, and both end up creating worlds in which they ultimately suffer more than they did initially.  The exact details of this narrative undoubtedly vary between the two men.  Mr. Floyd’s despair comes mostly from his inability to free himself from an overly paranoid and conformist society, while Mr. Mathabane’s comes from his inability to reconcile his identity with a world ever more hostile to it.  The bricks of Mr. Floyd’s wall include his country’s rampant fears and phobias, a stifling education system, and his superficial and impersonal relationship with his wife.  The bricks of Mr. Mathabane’s wall include the acts of injustice apartheid makes him suffer through, his ever-modernizing and ever-defiant family, and just the general lack of respect and dignity with which he is treated at all levels of society.  And while the world Mr. Floyd creates for himself is hugely psychological, in it in which he becomes a fascist dictator (I suppose like any ‘good’ drug trip, minus the ‘almost dying on Stevens Creek Trail’ part), the one Mr. Mathabane creates is more grounded in reality.
    Anyhow, both are ultimately able to escape their intolerable isolation through two means.  First, they personally acknowledge the flaws in their thinking that motivated them to construct their walls.  Mr. Floyd does so by mentally putting himself on trial, through which he realizes he can and should reconnect with the outside world.  Mr. Mathabane does so by remembering that he does, in fact, greatly love his family, and that only with their support can he become something worth respecting, and therefore contribute to the fight against apartheid.  But beyond personal will, the two are able to tear down their walls with the help of the outside world.  This assistance comes from their loved ones, who look past all the differences and insist on “banging [their] heart[s] on [this] mad bugger’s wall”.  For Mr. Floyd these individuals are never specified, although one can assume it includes his wife and mother.  As for Mr. Mathabane, it was his family: his mother and Johannes in particular, that helped him, through continually reminding him that they loved and cared about him (even if Johannes’ rhetoric occasionally seemed to deny this).
    So, if there is anything to draw from this concept of ‘the wall’, it is that this chaotic, crazy world of ours is something that can be neither avoided nor managed alone.  We all truly need a strong and personal connection with another person, on which we can rely during hard times.  Nonetheless, we all, to some extent, pay no heed to this advice.  We all eventually try to go the road alone and promptly isolate ourselves when the going gets too tough.  This universal message echoes an idea present in only Mr. Floyd’s version of the parable: the cyclical nature of ‘the wall’.  With the collapse of one wall, another one somewhere else is built.  This is said not to push one into believing in the futility of human existence, but rather encourage one to “to never rest in tearing down the walls that separate us”.  Only through such constant attempts to remind others that their lives do, in fact, have value, and that the troubles of the world can be coped with can we truly progress as a society.  So please, the next time you talk to someone, impart your newfound knowledge upon them.  Maybe your incessant knocking will go undetected; maybe the wall is just too mighty.  But maybe, just maybe, your words will not fall on such deaf ears.  Then, as you walk away, take some pride in your deeds, and enjoy the sound the bricks make as they fall.

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