Dancing in the Streets (27 page)
Read Dancing in the Streets Online
Authors: Barbara Ehrenreich
We pay a high price for this emotional emptiness. Individually, we suffer from social isolation and depression, which, while usually not fatal on their own, are risk factors for cardiovascular and a host of other diseases. Collectively, we seem to have trouble coming to terms with our situation, which grows more ominous every day. Half the world's people live in debilitating poverty. Epidemics devastate whole nations. The ice caps melt, and natural disasters multiply. But we remain for the most part paralyzed, lacking the means or will to organize for our survival. In fact the very notion of the “collective,” of the common good, has been eroded by the self-serving agendas of the powerfulâtheir greed and hunger for still more power. Throughout the world (capitalist and postcommunist), decades of conservative social policy have undermined any sense of mutual responsibility and placed the burden of risk squarely on the individual or the family.
The family is all we need, America's ostensibly Christian evangelicists tell usâa fit container for all our social loyalties and yearnings. But if anything represents a kind of evolutionary regression, it is this. Insofar as we compress our sociality into the limits of the family, we do not so much resemble our Paleolithic human ancestors as we do those far earlier prehuman primates who had not yet discovered the danced ritual as a “biotechnology” for the formation of larger groups. Humans had the wit and generosity to reach out to unrelated others; hominids huddled with their kin.
Our civilization has its compensatory pleasures of course. Most often cited is the consumer culture, which encourages us to deflect our desires into the acquisition and display of
things:
the new car, or shoes, or face-lift, which will enhance our status and make us
less lonely, or so we are promised. The mall may be a dreary place compared to a late medieval English fair, but it offers goods undreamed of in that humbler settingâconveniences and temptations from around the globe. We have “entertainment” too, in the form of movies; ever-available, iPod-delivered music for solitary enjoyment; computer games; and, possibly, coming soon, experiences in virtual reality. And we have drugs, both legal and illegal, to lift the depression, calm the anxiety, and bolster our self-confidence. It is a measure of our general deprivation that the most common referent for
ecstasy
in usage today is not an experience but a drug, MDMA, that offers fleeting feelings of euphoria and connectedness.
things:
the new car, or shoes, or face-lift, which will enhance our status and make us
less lonely, or so we are promised. The mall may be a dreary place compared to a late medieval English fair, but it offers goods undreamed of in that humbler settingâconveniences and temptations from around the globe. We have “entertainment” too, in the form of movies; ever-available, iPod-delivered music for solitary enjoyment; computer games; and, possibly, coming soon, experiences in virtual reality. And we have drugs, both legal and illegal, to lift the depression, calm the anxiety, and bolster our self-confidence. It is a measure of our general deprivation that the most common referent for
ecstasy
in usage today is not an experience but a drug, MDMA, that offers fleeting feelings of euphoria and connectedness.
But these compensatory pleasures do not satisfy our longings. Anyone who can resist addiction to the consumer culture, the entertainments, and the drugs arrives sooner or later at the conclusion that “something's missing.” What that might be is hard to pin down and finds expression in vague formulations such as “spirituality” or “community.” Intellectuals regularly issue thoughtful screeds on the missing glue in our society, the absence of strong bonds connecting us to those outside our families. In 1985, Robert Bellah et alia's book
Habits of the Heart: Individuals and Commitment in American Life
found Americans caught up in their personal ambitions, unable to imagine any larger sense of community. In 2000, Robert D. Putnam published
Bowling Alone: The Collapse and Revival of American Community
, in which he reported a decline not just in civic participation but in any kind of group activity. There is even an intellectual current called
communitarianism
, which aims to somehow restore the social cohesion characteristic of smaller, less divided societies, and its adherents have included such notables as Bill and Hillary Clinton.
Habits of the Heart: Individuals and Commitment in American Life
found Americans caught up in their personal ambitions, unable to imagine any larger sense of community. In 2000, Robert D. Putnam published
Bowling Alone: The Collapse and Revival of American Community
, in which he reported a decline not just in civic participation but in any kind of group activity. There is even an intellectual current called
communitarianism
, which aims to somehow restore the social cohesion characteristic of smaller, less divided societies, and its adherents have included such notables as Bill and Hillary Clinton.
For most people, though, the “something” that's missing is most readily replaced by religion. Far from withering away, as Marx predicted, religion has undergone a spectacular revival, especially in the largely Christian United States and the Muslim parts of the world.
People find many things in their religionsâa sense of purpose and metaphysical explanations for human suffering, for example. They may also find a sense of communityâthe
umma
of Islam or the neighborliness of a small-town church. The anthropomorphized God of Christianity, in particular, is himself a kind of substitute for human solidarity, an invisible loving companion who counsels and consoles. Like a genuinely caring community, he is said to be a cure for depression, alienation, loneliness, and even mundane, all-too-common addictions to alcohol and drugs.
People find many things in their religionsâa sense of purpose and metaphysical explanations for human suffering, for example. They may also find a sense of communityâthe
umma
of Islam or the neighborliness of a small-town church. The anthropomorphized God of Christianity, in particular, is himself a kind of substitute for human solidarity, an invisible loving companion who counsels and consoles. Like a genuinely caring community, he is said to be a cure for depression, alienation, loneliness, and even mundane, all-too-common addictions to alcohol and drugs.
But compared to the danced religions of the past, today's “faiths” are often pallid affairsâif only by virtue of the very fact that they
are
“faiths,” dependent on, and requiring, belief as opposed to direct knowledge. The prehistoric ritual dancer, the maenad or practitioner of Vodou, did not
believe
in her god or gods; she
knew
them, because, at the height of group ecstasy, they filled her with their presence. Modern Christians may have similar experiences, but the primary requirement of their religion is
belief
, meaning an effort of the imagination. Dionysus, in contrast, did not ask his followers for their belief or faith; he called on them to apprehend him directly, to let him enter, in all his madness and glory, their bodies and their minds.
are
“faiths,” dependent on, and requiring, belief as opposed to direct knowledge. The prehistoric ritual dancer, the maenad or practitioner of Vodou, did not
believe
in her god or gods; she
knew
them, because, at the height of group ecstasy, they filled her with their presence. Modern Christians may have similar experiences, but the primary requirement of their religion is
belief
, meaning an effort of the imagination. Dionysus, in contrast, did not ask his followers for their belief or faith; he called on them to apprehend him directly, to let him enter, in all his madness and glory, their bodies and their minds.
For all kinds of reasons, then, our imaginary “unconverted savage” might despair over what civilization has wrought. He would bemoan the absence of the gods, which is manifested by the new requirement that they be summoned by the imagination, through interior faith rather than through shared ritual. He would be baffled by the fact that our great reproductive achievement as a speciesâthe huge population, even overpopulation, of the earthâroutinely leads to frustration and hostility, rather than to an enrichment of individual experience. He would cringe from the misery around himâthe poverty and disease that our technological cunning has proved incapable of relieving. Above all, he would be stricken to find his species on what may be the verge of extinctionâthrough pandemics, global warming, the nuclear threat, and the exhaustion
of resourcesâyet too isolated from one another to stand together, as early
Homo sapiens
once learned to do, and mount any sort of mutual defense.
of resourcesâyet too isolated from one another to stand together, as early
Homo sapiens
once learned to do, and mount any sort of mutual defense.
We try, of course. Many millions of people around the world are engaged in movements for economic justice, peace, equality, and environmental reclamation, and these movements are often incubators for the solidarity and celebration so missing in our usual state of passive acquiescence. Yet there appears to be no constituency today for collective joy itself. In fact, the very term
collective joy
is largely unfamiliar and exotic.
collective joy
is largely unfamiliar and exotic.
The silence demands some sort of explanation, so let us give the enemies of festivityâor at least the revolutionaries among them, like Robespierre and Leninâtheir due. What is lost is not that important, they would argue, should they be good-humored enough to even entertain the argument. And indeed you would have to be a fool, or a drug-addled hippie, to imagine that a restoration of festivity and ecstatic ritual would get us out of our current crisis, or even to imagine that such activities
could
be restored in our world today, with anything like their original warmth and meaningfulness. No amount of hand-holding or choral dancing will bring world peace and environmental healing. In fact, festivities have served at times to befuddle or becalm their celebrants. European carnival coexisted with tyranny for centuries, hence the common “safety valve” theory of their social function. Native American Ghost Dancers could not reverse genocide with their ecstatic rituals; nor could colonized Africans render themselves bulletproof by dancing into a trance. In the face of desperately serious threats to group survival, the ecstatic ritual can be a waste of energyâor worse. The Haitian dictator “Papa Doc” Duvalier actually encouraged Vodou as a means of strengthening his grip on the population.
could
be restored in our world today, with anything like their original warmth and meaningfulness. No amount of hand-holding or choral dancing will bring world peace and environmental healing. In fact, festivities have served at times to befuddle or becalm their celebrants. European carnival coexisted with tyranny for centuries, hence the common “safety valve” theory of their social function. Native American Ghost Dancers could not reverse genocide with their ecstatic rituals; nor could colonized Africans render themselves bulletproof by dancing into a trance. In the face of desperately serious threats to group survival, the ecstatic ritual can be a waste of energyâor worse. The Haitian dictator “Papa Doc” Duvalier actually encouraged Vodou as a means of strengthening his grip on the population.
My own Calvinist impulsesâinherited in part from those of my ancestors who were genuine Calvinists, Presbyterian Scotsâtell me insistently to get the work done, save the world, and then maybe there'll be time for celebration. In the face of poverty, misery, and
possible extinction, there is no time, or justification, for the contemplation of pleasure of any kind, these inner voices say. Close your ears to the ever-fainter sound of drums or pipes; the wild carnival and danced ritual belong to a distant time. The maenads are long dead, a curiosity for the classicists; the global “natives” have been subdued. Forget the past, which is half imagined anyway, and get to work.
possible extinction, there is no time, or justification, for the contemplation of pleasure of any kind, these inner voices say. Close your ears to the ever-fainter sound of drums or pipes; the wild carnival and danced ritual belong to a distant time. The maenads are long dead, a curiosity for the classicists; the global “natives” have been subdued. Forget the past, which is half imagined anyway, and get to work.
And yet ⦠It does not go away, this ecstatic possibility. Despite centuries of repression, despite the competing allure of spectacles, festivity keeps bubbling up, and in the most unlikely places. The rock rebellion broke through the anxious conformity of postwar America and generated an entire counterculture. Then, at the other end of the cultural spectrum, where the spectacle of athleticism merged with nationalism, people undertook to carnivalize sports events, reclaiming them as occasions for individual creativity and collective joy. Religions, too, still generate ecstatic undertakings, like the annual Hasidic pilgrimage to the Ukrainian town of Uman, which has sprung up just since the fall of communism and features thousands of Hasidic men, dressed entirely in white, dancing and singing in the streets in honor of their dead rebbe. The impulse to public celebration lives on, seizing its opportunities as they come. When Iran, which is surely one of the world's more repressive states, qualified for the World Cup in 1997, “celebrations paralyzed Tehran,” according to
Newsweek.
“Women ripped off their government-mandated veils; men gave out paper cups of strictly forbidden vodka as teenagers danced in the streets.”
7
Newsweek.
“Women ripped off their government-mandated veils; men gave out paper cups of strictly forbidden vodka as teenagers danced in the streets.”
7
There are also cases of people coming together and creating festivity out of nothing, or at least without the excuse of a commercial concert or athletic event. Thousands of women gather every summer for the Michigan Womyn's Music Festival, described on its Web site as “the best party on the planet.” Gay male culture features “circuit parties,” involving dancing and sometimes costuming, and, with some help from chemical stimulants, these can go on for days. It was gay culture, too, that first appropriated Halloween as an
adult holiday, now celebrated with parades of costumed people of all sexual inclinations. The historian Nicholas Rogers summarizes recent observances of the holiday.
adult holiday, now celebrated with parades of costumed people of all sexual inclinations. The historian Nicholas Rogers summarizes recent observances of the holiday.
In San Francisco, alongside huge gay promenades at Castro and Polk, the Trocadero Transfer Club ran a three-day bash on the theme of the Australian cult movie
The Road Warrior
[
sic
]. At Salem, Massachusetts, witchery generated forty events for some 50,000 visitors. Even in Salt Lake City, where the Mormons frowned on public profanity and excess, private clubs promoted Halloween parties with gusto. One observer remembered pregnant nuns and lewd priests cavorting on the dance floor, and three gold-painted angels mimicking the figure atop the city's Mormon temple.
8
The Road Warrior
[
sic
]. At Salem, Massachusetts, witchery generated forty events for some 50,000 visitors. Even in Salt Lake City, where the Mormons frowned on public profanity and excess, private clubs promoted Halloween parties with gusto. One observer remembered pregnant nuns and lewd priests cavorting on the dance floor, and three gold-painted angels mimicking the figure atop the city's Mormon temple.
8
We might also note such recently invented festivities as the Berlin Love parade, an outdoor dance party that has attracted over a million people at a time, or the annual Burning Man event in the Black Rock Desert in Nevada, where thousands of people of all ages gather annually to create art, dance, and paint and costume themselves.
And whatever its shortcomings as a means to social change, protest movements keep reinventing carnival. Almost every demonstration I have been to over the yearsâantiwar, feminist, or for economic justiceâhas featured some element of the carnivalesque: costumes, music, impromptu dancing, the sharing of food and drink. The media often deride the carnival spirit of such protests, as if it were a self-indulgent distraction from the serious political point. But seasoned organizers know that gratification cannot be deferred until after “the revolution.” The Texas populist Jim Hightower, for example, launched a series of “Rolling Thunder” events around the country in the early 2000s, offering music, food, and plenty of conviviality, and with the stated aim of “putting the party back in politics.” People must find, in their movement, the immediate joy of solidarity, if only because, in the face of overwhelming state and corporate power, solidarity is their sole source of strength.
In fact, there has been, in the last few years, a growing carnivalization of protest demonstrations, perhaps especially among young “antiglobalization” activists in Europe, Latin America, Canada, and the United States. They wear costumesâmost famously, the turtle suits symbolizing environmental concerns at the huge Seattle protest of 1999. They put on masks or paint their faces; they bring drums to their demonstrations and sometimes dance through the streets; they send up the authorities with street theater and effigies. A Seattle newspaper reported of the 1999 demonstrations: “The scene ⦠resembled a New Year's Eve party: People banged on drums, blew horns and tossed flying discs through the air. One landed at the foot of a police officer, who threw it back to the crowd amid cheers.”
9
The urge to transform one's appearance, to dance outdoors, to mock the powerful and embrace perfect strangers is not easy to suppress.
9
The urge to transform one's appearance, to dance outdoors, to mock the powerful and embrace perfect strangers is not easy to suppress.
And why, in the end, would anyone want to? The capacity for collective joy is encoded into us almost as deeply as the capacity for the erotic love of one human for another. We can live without it, as most of us do, but only at the risk of succumbing to the solitary nightmare of depression. Why not reclaim our distinctively human heritage as creatures who can generate their own ecstatic pleasures out of music, color, feasting, and dance?
A couple of years ago, on the stunning Copacabana beach in Rio de Janeiro, where the mountains march right down into the water, my companion and I were drawn by the sound of drumming. Walking north along the beach, we came to a phalanx of samba dancers, about ten people abreast and at least a block longâmembers of a samba school practicing for
carnaval,
we were told. There were people of all ages, from tots of four or five up to octogenarians, men and women, some gorgeously costumed and some in the tank tops and shorts that constitute Rio street clothes. To a nineteenth-century missionary or even a twenty-first-century religious puritan,
their movements might well have seemed lewd or at least suggestive. Certainly the conquest of the streets by a crowd of brownskinned people would have been distressing in itself.
carnaval,
we were told. There were people of all ages, from tots of four or five up to octogenarians, men and women, some gorgeously costumed and some in the tank tops and shorts that constitute Rio street clothes. To a nineteenth-century missionary or even a twenty-first-century religious puritan,
their movements might well have seemed lewd or at least suggestive. Certainly the conquest of the streets by a crowd of brownskinned people would have been distressing in itself.
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