An Abyss That Laughs at Creation

Reading through Sarah Kane’s 4.48 Psychosis I was slightly worried that I’d have nothing remotely insightful to say. The piece is amazing. I’ve not read anything from Sarah Kane prior to this, and I see why she is so celebrated. This is a terrifying “play” that I’m sure most people can relate to, if only on a visceral level. I was reading and thinking to myself that this is the most tragic, honest, and brilliant thing I’ve read in quite some time. But, really, what am I to say about it? Sure, I could explore the “play’s” lack of character identification, its ambiguity, and its certainty. I could write that never before have I read a more poetic and tragic suicide note. But, I wasn’t sold on all of these. And, clearly, they don’t take up enough page space. Then, something wonderful happened, I turned to page 31: “the chicken’s still dancing / the chicken won’t stop.” I read these lines and instantly stopped. In the midst of a piece that seemed self-contained, self-reliant, self-actualized appeared a reference. Sarah Kane is referencing 1977 German film Stroszek. At the end of Werner Herzog’s masterpiece is a dancing chicken. The eponymous main character has stumbled—after many hardships and tragic defeats—onto a roadside attraction in the backwoods of some desolate American town. Within this roadside attraction are a series of performing animals. There is a duck playing a drum, a rabbit on a fire truck, and the dancing chicken in question. While the camera is focused on the chicken a faint gunshot is heard—this is presumably Stroszek’s suicide. The film ends with the chicken dancing, forever dancing.

It was at that point in the “play” that the character’s suicide was cemented. No longer was it in question, no longer could it be misconstrued. This reference to the dancing chicken carries into my poor attempt to be Alex Ross. Last entry I spoke of Interpol’s clarification of Artaud, and here, with Sarah Kane, again I find reference and clarity within popular music. The chicken as death is now threefold. The first was Stroszek’s death. The second was Ian Curtis, the lead singer of Joy Division. Before Ian Curtis killed himself he reportedly watched the film Stroszek. Now, Herzog has the blood of Sarah Kane on his hands. What is it about the film that so connects it to death? I think I might be piecing that together. Using the motif of this course, the acting out of the everyday, and my experience with Artaud’s "cry of life," I can see these three events as players in the rapidly dissolving line between art and life. All three of these people—including the fictitious Storszek—are bound to their arts. They all hear the cry of life and ask themselves, “why lie?” There is clearly a danger presenting itself in this theory; this attempt to not merely observe art, but to experience it.

If Artaud’s “cry of life” summed up my initial response and excursion into this, perhaps the following quote from Sarah Kane sums up my feelings for this burgeoning theory in my head:

“the only thing that’s permanent is destruction

we’re all going to disappear

trying to leave a mark more permanent than myself

I’ve not killed myself before so don’t look for precedents

What came before was just the beginning”

The feel and look of 4.48 Psychosis has more in common with a poem than that of a play. Again, this ties back to Artaud and the blurring of the artistic fields. The poetic nature and theme of this “play” reminds me of a poem by Mina Loy:

There is no Life or Death,

Only activity

And in the absolute

Is no declivity.

There is no Love or Lust

Only propensity

Who would possess

Is a nonentity.

There is no First or Last

Only equality

And who would rule

Joins the majority.

There is no Space or Time

Only intensity,

And tame things

Have no immensity

Herzog's Dancing Chicken