The Narcissus Fresco E-Book

. Chaddanta

• Herausgeber: tredition
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 158

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2019

Beschreibung

In a time of injustice — when lies become laws, deceit an entitlement, humanity a farce, and democratic rule a tyranny against the nation — people begin to question the causes of the decline. The ancient fresco painting depicts the mythological fate of Narcissus and bears witness to a tragedy that occurred in a similar manner in olden times. The fine layers of watered-down pigments the fresco artist applied to the lime are well embedded into the stucco. The powerful elite consider themselves untouchable as they indulge their decadence and their deviant tendencies. But societal decline also acts as a catalyist for the uprising against despotism.

Leseprobe

Chaddanta

The Narcissus Fresco

But he who easily does without all this,

Which only fools strive for,

And, happy in his own abode,

Lives his own life and nobody else’s, Is the only one who can say:

I am a free man!

Johann Aloys Blumauer

Für Portia

Chaddanta

The Narcissus Fresco

This novel is a dystopia. Any similarities to persons living or dead are purely coincidental. All places and events are also fictitious.

© 2019 by Chaddanta

Cover design: satz+layout Regine Ade

Proof reading: T. Jahn

Publisher and Printer: tredition GmbH, Halenreie

40-44, 22359 Hamburg, Germany

ISBN Paperback: 978-3-7497-6002-2

ISBN eBook: 978-3-7497-6003-9

Years ago, an acquaintance recounted a peculiar encounter to me. A minor sports injury had left him with an almost imperceptible limp. One day, a neighbor accosted him on the stairwell to inquire after his health.

“You’re not looking too well these days,” she said, looking him gravely in the eye.

“I got injured playing squash,” he explained politely.

But the neighbor did not let up.

“You have to take these kinds of injuries very seriously,” she warned in a disapproving tone. “Japanese medicinal oil is a helpful remedy even if it does have a rather strong odor.”

“I already have an ointment in my medicine cabinet which has proven its effectiveness on more than one occasion. But thank you for your concern!”

He meant it to sound like a goodbye but the woman did not get the hint. Instead, she drew him into a lengthy discussion about treatment methods, the latest medical findings, and the “duty of maintaining one’s health.” My acquaintance finally managed to shake off his neighbor by promising to visit a prominent alternate practitioner with a shady reputation. This encounter preoccupied him for days. He was upset with himself for revealing private information that was meant for his family doctor’s ears alone. He later learned that the woman had no medical training whatsoever and couldn’t make out the reason why she had cornered him like that.

“Paul, I still can’t understand what this woman actually wanted from me. Sometimes old or lonesome people seek interaction in unusual ways, but that seems unlikely to me in this case. There was nothing awkward or unfriendly about her approach, and I didn’t give the incident any thought until later that evening.”

I smiled and kept silent for a while.

“It’s difficult to effectively categorize a personality type based on a single encounter, but can you still recall the tale of Narcissus and Goldmund?”

I considered Herman Hesse as a cult author during my adolescence. Maybe it was his introspective worldview that fascinated me so much at that time in my life. Decades later I bought one of the few books of his I still had not read and brought it with me on holiday. The novel didn’t interest me in the least. I couldn’t even get past the first chapter and ended up consigning it to a second-hand bookshop.

“You mean the story about the monastic scholar Narcissus who wants to gain a purely rational understanding of the world and the bon vivant Goldmund who seeks a sensory experience?”

“Yes, that is exactly what I’m getting at. What they did not tell us at school was that the protagonist Narcissus was not a narcissist in the psychological sense of the word. This is one of the story’s weak spots that I only identified later on. From a literary perspective, he represents a balanced counterpoint for living one’s life to the fullest. However, a truly narcissistic person is more or less disturbed on a case-by-case basis.”

“And what does all of this have to do with my neighbor Mrs. Mautz, or whatever her name is?”

I had cast my net too wide and may have completely erred in my diagnosis.

“Well, you are well advised to steer clear of Mrs. Mautz. And if that isn’t possible, tell her you’re going to consult a reputed orthopedist.”

“What good will that do?”

“It will take the wind out of our suspected narcissist’s sails,” I promised.

*

The narcissistic personality disorder phenomenon had long ceased to interest me. I would occasionally diagnose it in varying degrees and in conjunction with other symptoms exhibited by my patients. It is slightly more common in men than in women. People with this impairment rarely seek out a therapist. That’s because it isn’t a mental illness in the true sense of the word and also does not cause the affected person any suffering. Traumatic experiences coupled with a genetic predisposition lie at the root of the disorder which is felt all the more intensely by the narcissist’s close companions. Narcissists skillfully conceal the fact that they think and feel differently from other people. The nature of their temperament is such that they feel no – or very little – empathy for fellow human beings. However, it is very difficult for anyone to integrate into society without displaying a minimal concern for their environment. So that leaves narcissists no other choice but to find a means of simulating successful social interactions. This lies at the core of narcissism. However, it would be a mistake to believe that narcissists are socially impaired. On the contrary, being compelled to painstakingly learn skills which are naturally present in most people, can make narcissists develop a particularly high level of charm, persuasiveness or charisma. However, this is just an outer illusion and not their inner self. If a person’s narcissistic disorder is combined with a high level of cognitive ability, they have a good chance of becoming some of the most respected lawyers, investors or statesmen. Contrarily, if their analytical skills are not well-developed, the chances of them ending up on the other side of the justice system are that much higher.

*

I am about to do something very controversial: Apply a concept of individual psychology to a social system. I will begin with the thesis that the whole is more than the sum of its parts. An individual behaves differently when part of a group or an institutional structure than he behaves on his own. I am by no means implying that political representatives and their medial accomplices all suffer from a narcissistic disorder. There are certainly narcissists among the ranks of the political opposition as well as in alternative media productions. What I am asserting is that our current regime has markedly narcissistic attributes which lie at the root of many gross distortions we experience nowadays. When people are asked about the causes of the political disaster, they refer – depending on their ideological stance – to the international banking system or a vague grouping of conspirators who meet up in Prague cemeteries at night. I regard these theories as complete nonsense. The primary concern is not whether “a man stands behind the curtain,” but whether this political complex with its seemingly strange characteristics can or cannot reform itself.

*

The communicative pattern of a narcissist has several characteristics that are worth a closer look. The fundamental problem is that he considers his interlocutor insignificant. The real function of the interaction lies in his ability to exercise control. If unsuccessful, he reacts with frustration and belittles his counterpart. The narcissist has no interest in understanding others, but in being understood. A typical sign of a narcissistic way of relating is the repetition of the same story or joke. He preaches the same events or beliefs to his listeners and never takes any advice from anybody. Admitting a mistake would be akin to exhibiting weakness, something that his vulnerability does not allow. A narcissist does not understand that mutually respectful, sympathetic, and affectionate relationships lead to far better results than the one-sided exercise of power. Someone with a personality disorder cannot be a good listener because they themselves determine the central concepts as well as the language through which they define reality. This behavioral pattern is easily identifiable in politics. Using the term “refugee” for the myriad of illegal immigrants was not just an improper generalization, but a strategy for covering up that the incentive for mass migration did not arise solely from dire circumstances in their countries of origin but also from the appeal of a small number of destination countries that the invaders favored on account of material and political benefits. “Diversity is our strength” reads a slogan from the narcissistic camp. This presumably refers to the synergetic effects of different elements coming into contact in chemistry, pharmacy or medicine. But the political powers do not bother to discuss these complicated interrelationships. The everyday life of the common citizen is shaped by dissonance more than by mutualism. This would be a welcome topic for an opinionated debate, but law and media regulators prevent it. The same is true for historical guilt, whose discourse is nearly always determined by the same anecdotes and victim destinies. Any suggestion of rising disinterest or oversaturation is equivalent to lese-majesty, and the taboo breaker is definitively ostracized. The state is founded on these kinds of illusions that gradually chip away at its legitimacy.

*

However, I would like to take a closer look at one very central female politician who is a textbook example of covert narcissism. I’m referring to the former head of government who autocratically opened up the borders a few years ago, launching an illegal mass immigration of hitherto unknown proportions. The covert narcissist is a wolf in sheep’s clothing. The feigned insecurity, lack of charisma, and eloquence are all part of the disguise. This political actress always went on about “our” values. These included membership in an Atlantic military alliance, a special – or as she put it: “everlasting” – responsibility towards a state that has otherwise few friends, a market-oriented economic system, and a few other points. She refused to address her own values in order to conceal the opportunism characteristic of somebody with her background. As someone who led a privileged existence of allegiance to a totalitarian state and its ideology, she later switched sides with remarkable sophistication. Nobody saw her demonstrating in favor of democracy when the centrally-planned economy collapsed. No documents reveal even the slightest opposition to the dictatorship on her part. Her political police file has been deemed “disappeared,” and her professional involvement in the service of the Socialist Unity Party is said to have been limited to the organization of “cultural events.” Many speculations have been made about this woman’s character in terms of her religious upbringing, bitterness over the failed state or biological infertility. But it is difficult to classify a narcissist in this sense. She has an ambivalent relationship to her state and pledges loyalty as long as there are benefits to be reaped. She is indifferent to the associated values and is not truly bound to her adopted standpoints. This positional flexibility is largely responsible for her meteoric career. Her other pathologically narcissistic qualities have been brought to light on specific occasions: When over a thousand people were robbed, spat upon, and sexually assaulted on that infamous New Year’s Eve as a result of her arbitrary migration policy, she simply brushed over the incident. It was of no personal interest to her or her henchmen. There was no sign of sympathy or concern. Neither she nor any of her trainbearers made an on-site visit or contacted any of the victims. One week after the pandemonium, she succinctly declared: “some people have abused our hospitality.” That was it. The “guests” were therefore at fault and she did not reproach herself for anything at all. The narcissist wants acceptance, but wants it in a way that sets him apart from the rest and thus affords him a special status. In the narcissist’s eyes, he – and he alone – has the right to inflict damage of any kind, and any criticism of his actions is perceived as insolence.

*

In my mind, political policemen were always the uniformed, club-wielding henchmen of a totalitarian system. They tapped telephone conversations, tasked undercover Romeos to recruit inconspicuous women who would spy on dissidents or relegated oppositionists to South American police cellars. In my youth, the “party’s sword and shield” really did exist. However, I then lived in another part of the country. These fiends also took center stage as far as conspiracy theories were concerned. A guru in North America founded an obscure sect whose male members self-castrated. Ultimately, the entire community became persuaded that it would be kidnapped by alien spaceships. All-knowing “experts” suspected that the founder of the sect was a secret service employee whose duty was to explore the power of charismatic leadership. In our state, political “law enforcement officers” act like members of an intrusive intelligence service who renounce physical violence and resort to destroying economic livelihoods. However, these civil relations disguise reality. In times when manipulation and deception are no longer a sufficient means of citizen control, a narcissistic regime cannot refrain from violence. But establishing an official functional association with state terror would tarnish the narcissist’s deceptive self-image. Therefore, such activities are delegated to seemingly independent clubs and institutions. They are given unsuspicious names, such as “Antiracist Action” or “Tolerance Foundation,” are generously funded, and enjoy considerable penal tolerance in using their fool’s license. They occasionally bite the hand that feeds them but generally fulfill their task with all the brutality and malice it calls for. They fill their empty lives with moral superiority and a chaotic refusal to accept reality. They are mentally no different from their personality-disordered financers, even if they do allegedly hate them.

*

A narcissist does not see other people’s guilt within a holistic framework. He does not acknowledge that human fallibility is responsible for a broken law or rule and is not satisfied with an adequate penalty or reparation. All apologies fall on deaf ears as he turns the offender’s guilt into an instrument. A narcissist also latches onto the shame associated with this guilt to make offenders aware of their inferiority and thereby ensure their own superiority. In the context of a narcissistic regime, the role of collective guilt or shame can hardly be overestimated. This burden can be carried forward indefinitely and weigh heavily on the shoulders of generations to come. It has no legal legitimacy and evades scientific scrutiny.

*

Our state makes a clear distinction between the princess and the urchins. The latter confine themselves to their own barely recognizable camp and fall outside the scope of the law. This means that violence is openly accepted below a given threshold. There were alleged clowns who threw a birthday cake in the face of an opposition journalist at a press conference. Media producers outdid one another in excessively covering the event with concealed mockery. It would appear that certain people are free game for ridicule in the press. This is cause for amusement in the eyes of some members of the public. They probably belonged to that category of people who, back in the Middle Ages, distributed rotten produce to children so that they could launch them in the faces of the pilloried. Others speak of a political tradition aimed at making a mockery of extremism. The sarcasm reaches as far as the boardrooms. A coffee-shop chain advertises its paper cups as “fit for throwing.” There is no clear distinction between the legitimate and the reprehensible. Can the coffee you throw in someone’s face be scalding hot? Such an act would probably be unfit for media promulgation. In our day and time, this is the only criterion that still protects the seditionists.

*

My first confrontation with our national guilt came by way of my former religion teacher. I must have been seven or eight years old at the time. Mr. Geiger was a war veteran and his lessons had little structure; his prayers and religious discussions often segued into current events. Every now and then he would spontaneously pepper his lessons with stories from the war and early post-war period that still lingered in his mind. For instance, he told us about the time he was shown a suitcase full of female hair while he was a war prisoner in France. As pupils, we were yet unable to relate to these stories. We didn’t know anything about the victors’ revenge on the women accused of collaboration. One day he brought up the topic of the industrialized mass murder that our people were accused of. That was the first time I learned about that guilt so absolute that it did not fit into any historical schema, but ruled over us like a political religion. This memory weaves together with another one. It must have been at around the same time because I can still remember my parents’ first television set. It was a bulky wooden unit supported by four short legs and fitted with four large black buttons to turn it on and off, regulate the volume and contrast, and switch between the three state television stations. The program must have been broadcast in the early evening because my father was not home from work yet and my mother was busy with housework. It featured a couple by the name of K. The wife, Ilse K., had something of an obscure penchant for tattooed inmates. According to the original American reportage, she used to lure men with impressive skin designs into her bedroom and arrange their deaths immediately following intercourse. She allegedly transformed the victims’ skin into all kinds of decorations such as lampshades or shrunken heads. At the time, it did not occur to me that the sadistic woman was driven by a psychiatric disorder rather than an ideological idea. The husband, Otto K., was supposedly indifferent to his wife’s goings-on and the resulting anatomical unica. Today I consider that this reportage was cut from the same cloth as one of the fairy tales my grandmother used to tell me. Although insignificant, I would still like to know who was behind the strange tumult that caused townspeople from the region to walk around in solemn garb. The aforementioned lampshade – experts suggest it may have been painted goatskin – is now archived in North America. The narrative is also no longer the same. According to two inmates who have since passed away, Ilse K. had not just created a lampshade, but an entire bedside lamp out of skeletonized foot bones and a shin bone that served as a utensil in some kind of macabre celebration. The legends altered over time as the old ones faded away to make room for the new. The guilt remains.

*