hyacinth's blog

I've been looking at some surrealist paintings lately and noticed some connections between some of Max Ernst's works and the series. I thought it would be fun to write about.

Prisonman/Ubu Imperator

I've always been fascinated by Prisonman and when I saw Ubu Imperator for the first time I think something clicked with me. Prisonman is interesting in that, for such a striking visual and imposing presence, he doesn't do very much. He's large and imposing, but seems kind of oafish, speaking for the most part in grumbles, lumbering past BB even when she's in plain sight and announcing herself to him. For the line he gets near the end, he shows a sort of childish devotion to the ideology in the Immersive Theater; he tries to understand his world by making crude pastiche of it, like a child's attempts at art. Ernst's Ubu Imperator, likewise, depicts a large and imposing figure that becomes silly at a close glance. The imperator has a body reminiscent of a large tower of some kind, but the threat of its size it taken away by other parts of the piece. Its heavy body rests on the tip of a needle, so it threatens to topple over at any moment. Its hands are thrown up and eyes open wide as if it's frightened, and it looks with its head tilted up, implying a larger figure it's weaker than. These connections are bolstered, considering the origin of the Ubu figure from one of the first absurdist plays, Ubu Roi. I haven't watched Ubu Roi, but a quick search suggests the Ubu figure is a grand, cruel, stupid and infantile figure who ends up at the whims of everyone around him. It seems like they match pretty closely. Also, hey, W. B. Yeats, famous writer and theatre founder much like John Beets of the Immersive Theatre, watched Ubu Roi on premiere. Coincidence ??

Ultimately I like the idea of Prisonman as a sort of scarecrow, a frightening but ultimately impotent figure whose actions are puppeted by a figure he cannot understand. It fits in line with other figures like Cool Policeman and Dr. Zoo, who despite seeking to become powerful through The Killer, are just vessels for The Killer's endless conquest to manifest through.

The Killer/The Triumph of Surrealism

The Killer is quite the straightforward figure but I think Ernst's seminal work puts it in a new perspective. The figure in the painting (which is also called the Angel of Hearth and Home, so I'll call it the Angel from now on,) is a massive, grotesque figure stomping on a landscape. It has large talons, sharp teeth, and a spiked foot that looks moments away from piercing the ground. The Angel is clearly destructive. It also seems artificial, created from a myriad of cloths, fabrics and textiles which form the body and seemingly cobbled together bones which form the head. Much like the Angel, The Killer is a menacing figure, towering over most other characters and sporting a long, pointy beak. The Killer is also an artificial body, a mechanical drinky bird. Like the Angel, The Killer is a destructive force, committing murder and arson wherever it travels.

Now, I've heard The Killer called a metaphor for history which, yes makes sense and is technically the intended reading, but Ernst's painting has spurred me to argue otherwise. (That's right, thecatamites, get death of the author'd!) I believe The Killer not to be a metaphor for history, but the end of history. The Triumph of Surrealism was painted as a response to the victory of the Francoists in the Spanish Civil War. The Surrealists, largely aligned with communist and anarchist thought, watched the future they wished for be destroyed. The Angel represents the figure that destroyed this future, a large, grotesque beast destroying things under its mighty feet. The landscape surrounding the Angel is silent. Grey clouds hang in the air, and the fields are empty. The Angel has prevented history from progressing, and the world is dying for it.

I've talked to a lot of people, young and old, and it seems like something people tend to generally think is that nothing changes anymore. Since the end of the Soviet Union and the victory of neoliberalism, just about, history stopped. History here not referring to time, because of course time continues, but as a force that propels us forward. I imagine it like a ball rolling, and people were pushing and pulling the ball in different directions, but for a long time no one has touched it, letting it roll and slowly crawl to a stop.

I think this is what The Killer represents. History, the force that pushes and pulls us in directions of progress and change, is gone. The Killer is not history, The Killer is the death (or, I suppose, the killer) of history. BB's world, and seemingly our world as well, will no longer change, only slowly roll in the direction it was already going before the force that drove it abandoned us. Any change people try to bring amounts to a new coat of paint, and any real futures are just out of sight and far out of reach. Now we are doomed to endlessly consume and regurgitate what we have left and die gruesomely. God is dead, stagnance brings disease, pigs rolling down a hill, you get the idea.