« Not So Seraphic Sweden | Main | What is Art? »
July 27, 2005
Karen: Seraphic Samurai
The Gentle Tale of Robert-san, the Poor but Honorable Peasant Warrior and his Desperate Gonin Onna, Loving Love, for the Proud but Lonely Princess Karen, the Jewish/Samurai Lady from the Clan of Singer who Possess much Ying-Yang-Yichus.
A clarification. This was not our next date. In fact, this Samurai event took place several months after I returned from Sweden. Karen and I were, by then, going out regularly--to the exclusion of all others. Why do I choose to derail my time line so severely? I guess it has something to do with how important an event it was in How I Married Karen. Chronology is important, don't get us wrong, but just not as important as the veracity of the feelings we are trying to recapture over twenty-seven years later.
The time has come to introduce Karen to Akira Kurosawa. The time has come to introduce Karen to the single most important movie in my life, the film that has shaped my consciousness, the film that has turned me from a directionless yeshiva student into a rabid film fanatic, into a budding screenwriter.
Yes, The Seven Samura is playing at The Thalia and I've invited Karen to see it with me. Keep in mind, these are ancient days, there are no videos, much less DVD's. To see a classic film, you must rush to Manhattan, to one of the revival houses and hope that the print they have is half-way decent. And with Japanese films, the biggest problem is the subtitles. Frequently, they are illegible.
As we stand on line to purchase tickets, Karen quizzes me about the film.
"What's it about?"
"Courage and loyalty in 16th century Japan."
"Does it have a... plot?"
"Oh, yes, several very strong plots running parallel to one another. Don't worry, it's a foreign film, but you'll find that all the emotions are completely familiar."
Karen looks a bit skeptical. By now she knows me well enough to know that my take on reality is a bit, well, not all that (ahem) real.
"How long is it?"
"We're incredibly lucky, Karen," I enthuse, "This doesn't happen very often but we're actually getting to see the original three-hour version! Isn't that great!?"
Karen smiles, but her smile is strained. I'm not worried. I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt that once the film gets going she'll be caught up in the magnificent imagery, in the classic story-telling, in the heroic, tragic characters. Once Karen imbibes this film, our relationship will be sealed—a final intellectual union.
The house lights dim and chills run up and down my spine as the opening shots of The Seven Samurai thunder across the screen. Karen is at full attention, her spine is rigid, she sits straight as a pilaster, like a proud Japanese princess.
A half-hour into the film Karen is:
Oh
My
Gosh
idly toying with her split ends. I am incredulous, in shock, in a kind of numbed pain that I never knew existed. How is this possible?
Slumped in her seat, Karen is the portrait of a a bored grade school student. My heart is actually pattering in my chest at twice its normal rate. I am twenty-five years old and I'm having, I'm pretty sure, a massive heart attack.
A few years ago, I told a friend that I could never love a woman who didn't love The Seven Samurai. Not only did I say it, but I believed it.
"You'll have to excuse me, " says Karen, "I need to take a break."
"There's a break at the hour-and-a-half point," I lamely point out.
"I need it now," Karen says quite evenly with no hint of rancor whatsoever. Karen exits to the lobby.
I feel like committing hara-kiri.
In the dark, I gaze at my beloved and outnumbered Samurai warriors; even unto death they maintain their orthodox code of honor. There is something very Jewish about these men and their stubborn refusal to give up their Samurai mesorah, l'havdeel. This film has changed my life, made of me a screenwriter, a scribe with a developing vision.
What to do?
The images no longer cohere for now I see Karen, ten-years old, on the day that she first transferred from Yeshiva Ohel Moshe to Yeshiva Flatbush, the day I, also ten-years old, fell in love with her; now I see her leaning against the chain link fence during recess, pressing her linen handkerchief against unnaturally pale lips; there she is, years later, when we meet in camp and exchange a few awkward sentences; and again I spot her at a high school basketball game. Karen has no idea how I feel. What am I saying? She has no idea that I even exist. This life of mine is one that can easily slip into utter catastrophe.
Karen's image splits and flies away; there she is, up on the screen in full close-up. I love her, have always loved her. And this moment, this film, this decision that I'm about to make will define the balance of my life.
The Samurai speak of Bushido, the soul of the warrior, the perpetual struggle to maintain honor and dignity, the fight to recognize your true inner-self. I catch a glimpse of my Bushido. It's in danger of being crushed... by yours truly.
I bolt from my seat and follow Karen into the lobby. Sitting on a bench, she looks sad.
"I know how much this movie means to you," says Karen.
"It doesn't matter," I respond.
And it doesn't.
In a split second I have gone from being a boy to a man. Morally, I have matured, been forced by this honest and most un-pretentious of women, to reorder my priorities.
I took The Lovely Girl From Boro Park to see The Seven Samurai and she told me that she loved it. Adored it. "It's fantastic," she gushed. But in the darkness I felt her boredom, sensed her incredible yearning for the film to end. She was just saying what she knew I wanted to hear.
Karen cannot lie. Karen is constitutionally unable to say that she admires something when she just plain doesn't like it.
To this day, when I slip the DVD of The Seven Samurai into the player, Karen beats a hasty retreat.
This night, this moment, I make the decision to grow up and to be a man. I understand that admiring or despising The Seven Samurai, any movie, has nothing to do with the guts of a relationship. If you look closely, it's merely about aesthetics.
What it's not about is values. Admiring or disliking a movie or a book or painting or a song or whatever —is not a good indicator of the strength of a relationship. Love, real love and lasting relationships are built on shared values.
Karen knows how important this movie is to me. But because this film is so central to my life she cannot bring herself to pretend that she likes it. In fact, the way I feel about The Sound of Music is how she feels about The Seven Samurai.
I bid goodbye to The Seven Samurai. We do not stay for the rest of the film. We exit the theater. Walking along Broadway, Karen searches my face for some expression of what I'm feeling, some hint of what my reaction is to her reaction.
As we walk away from the movie theater, I discover that I feel lighter, I feel unburdened and I find that I am grinning hugely. I smile because at long last I'm able to bid goodbye to my youth. Karen's perfect scrupulousness, her Female/Jewish/Samurai personae has, as I have long suspected, compelled me to become a better man.
To be continued.
Look for Princess Karen to Add Her Royal comments later today.
Posted by Robert J. Avrech at July 27, 2005 09:29 AM
Comments
Seraphic Secret is private property, that's right, it's an extension of our home, and as such, Karen and I have instituted two Seraphic Rules and we ask commentors to act respectfully.
1. No profanity.2. No Israel bashing. We debate, we discuss, we are respectful. You know what Israel bashing is. The world is full of it. Seraphic Secret is one of the few places in the world that will not tolerate this form of anti-Semitism. That's it. Break either of these rules and you will be banned.
This is a very good story for people or couples who don't feel secure enough to have some different interests. As long as you don't force your "significant other" to sit through your favorite movies, sporting events, etc. and you can find some way to enjoy these things separately without taking too much time away from each other, you'll be okay. I really like how you describe your ability to walk out of the film to pursue Karen and let her know she was more important. Yet you still have the DVD! So, clearly everyone is secure enough to follow their own interests without trashing your whole relationship. I don't know how many friends and co-workers I know who really wouldn't think of dating anyone unless they loved sports and their favorite movies, etc. "Move on and be a man," I'd like to tell them. Now, all I have to do is show them this blog!
Posted by: Jake at July 27, 2005 11:35 AM
Jake I would like to echo your sentiments. I think alot of couples lose sight of this, and someone gets upset if they would like to do something that the other partner isnt interested in.
In my case, you wont find a bigger sports fan than me. However, during my short lived marraige, I realized Sunday was the one day for family outings. It was clear to me what was more important....to do something with my step daughter...Or, you become creative....my step daughter liked to join me to watch a baseball game....and she really enjoyed the Padres games we attended.
Posted by: Lance at July 27, 2005 12:06 PM
Robert,
With this piece, you've outdone yourself.
As I write this, I wipe away tears.
Your words conveyed such a deep and strong truth about love.
Now if only Hollywood portrayed your take on love; on "coming of age" - I bet there'd be a lot more happier relationships!
Thanks for your words,
Yael
Posted by: Yael at July 27, 2005 12:09 PM
I recall in a previous life the benefits of watching not-equally-valued movies - in my case, Baraka - with a potential significant other; even if I actually had in mind to introduce them to a great film - we never paid attention past the contemplative steam-bathing monkey.
Posted by: pierre at July 27, 2005 01:33 PM
What an awesome post. Just when I think I can't like Karen any more than I do (and I've never even had the pleasure of meeting her) something happens that just reinforces what a great person she is.
However, as a rabid Kurosawa fan who has seen just about every movie he has ever made, I am a bit baffled by her lack of interest in his films. I mean, we're talking about The Seven Samurai here LOL.
Posted by: Tamara at July 27, 2005 02:03 PM
I wish I could use some subterfuge to forward this post to some of my still single friends who have yet to realize that no matter how close the woman you marry comes to embodying your dream, somewhere along the line you will have to realize that something you think is terribly important simply isn't, and get over it.
As for Seven Samurai, I watched it a few times, on DVD with and without the commentary (I think it was the criterion edition) and though I appreciate its technical aspects, somehow the cultural gap seemed to keep me from really connecting with any of the characters, and therefore it had little emotional resonance.
Posted by: MJ at July 27, 2005 02:29 PM
Yael:
Thanks so much for your generous praise. That evening was important in my life.
Posted by: Robert at July 27, 2005 02:33 PM
MJ: When I was younger and much more stupid, I simply could not comprehend a mind that did not adore "Seven Samurai." I simply assumed that they were unsophisticated boobs. I am older, wiser, and oh yes, no longer a Democrat, and thus infinitely more tolerant of others.
Posted by: Robert at July 27, 2005 02:51 PM
When I was in college, I believed that my "soul mate" had to share my passion for literature. I dated a law student who was majoring in English. He could converse about Joyce and Bellows and had pored through Catch 22 as many times as I had. He trampled on my heart.
My husband has a degree in math. We don't discuss much lit. But I have learned that soul mate doesn't mean "clone."
Posted by: Rochelle at July 27, 2005 03:19 PM
Rochelle: Karen is also strong in science and math, whereas I can charitably be described as disabled. If there's one thing that the shidduch world gets absolutely right is its insistence on shoving aside superficialities and emphasizing core values. I believe that the failure of many marriages can be diretly attributed to romances that were based on the shared love of "foreign movies, Italian restaurants, and long walks along the beach at sunset."
Posted by: Robert at July 27, 2005 04:02 PM
Robert, not only is it true that shared values are the key to a lasting, healthy marriage, but I believe you touch on a most important component...making that transition from youth to manhood (or womanhood). It can come in one split moment as it did for you, sometimes takes a little longer. But I truly believe the relationship will flounder if both have not made that transition. It's discovering that you are no longer your parent's child, but you are now your mate's partner. The maturity to understand that your seperate interests are what make you attractive to eachother. And of course, finding the things that do bring you together, and encouraging the things that seperately bring you each joy. Mr. Randi and I "share" many different interests...and we love and respect that in eachother. But the one thing I find incomprehensible?...YOU DON'T LIKE THE SOUND OF MUSIC?!!!!!!!!
Posted by: Randi at July 27, 2005 04:29 PM
Randi: Lovely summation of what makes a good marriage. And yes, "The Sound of Music" is for me, pure torture.
Posted by: Robert at July 27, 2005 05:37 PM
Robert, are the subheads from this and the last post a Robert/Karen effort, or did you think them through on your own? They're brilliant!!
I loved today's (revised one), especially the reference to "ying-yang yichus"!
You ain't so bad yourself in yichus, "o blessed one."
Posted by: Pearl at July 27, 2005 07:07 PM
So far, this is the best chapter in the series (which I have been following avidly.)
As much as we disagree on a number of issues, I have always liked and respected you -- or at least the "you" I get to see here on the site. This entry cranked that respect "up to 11," so to speak.
I have moments like this all the time with MHW, where she totally and completely doesn't get something that's a deep part of my backstory.
(For instance, we've been married almost four years, and it was only in this last year that I've finally gotten her to understand that Star WARS isn't the same thing as Star TREK.)
But you hit the nail precisely on the head with your insight, above, that it's not about the aesthetic agreement, it's about the agreement in values and vision that makes the relationship work.
And I try to remember that when MHW looks at me blankly when I tell her that "Shadow of the Giant" is coming out in paperback later this year, just like she tries to remember that when she starts talking about the various things that excite her and that send me (almost instantly) into a glazed coma.
So, thanks for this post. And the blog generally.
--FD
PS: Yeah, but mine goes to eleven.
Posted by: FrumDad at July 28, 2005 01:39 PM
Well, I have seen SS about 10 times, and hate TSOM, and agree with all of the above. I just started dating a guy who loves opera and tennis (which bore me) and hates the beach and probably my musical tastes (which I haven't subjected him to yet). (I did take him to an Ernst Lubitsch film fest and he responded positively.)
But who cares, unless you want to be welded at the hip? We had a great time at the Metropolitan Museum showing each other our favorite art and discussing it. Nice way to become intimate - not by agreeing on everything but by showing your passions to the other.
Posted by: Yehudit at July 28, 2005 01:43 PM
Frum Dad: The you that you see on the blog is pretty much the you that you would see if you met me in person. So thanks much for the compliment.
Posted by: Robert J. Avrech at July 28, 2005 02:01 PM
Judith:
I had an opera phase too, took Karen to one. She beat it after oh, about twelve seconds. I did too.
Ernst Lubitch is one of the greatest directors who ever lived. I have seen "Design For Living" maybe fifty seven thousand times (okay, I tend to exagerrate with numbers a bit, but it's a sure way of making a point) and oh gosh, it's such a civilized script! Try selling a movie in Hollywood by calling to civilized, they will throw you out the window.
Posted by: Robert J. Avrech at July 28, 2005 02:15 PM
I haven't seen Design for Living yet. So far we saw Bluebeard's 8th Wife (not that good, very frothy) and Trouble in Paradise (much better). He couldn't make it for Ninotchka and Shop Around the Corner unfortunately but those are so well known I am sure he can rent them. To Be or Not to Be is the last one in the series, next week.
I thought Ninotchka was funny the first time but it is a one-joke movie. SATC is almost as good as Seven Samurai - all the performances are note-perfect and the plot is like a jeweled clockwork.
Was the one with Rex Harrison as the orchestra conductor Lubitsch or Sturges?
Posted by: Yehudit at July 28, 2005 10:51 PM
Yehudit:
The film you're talking about is "Unfaithfully Yours" 1948, directed by the the late, great Preston Sturges.
Posted by: Robert at July 29, 2005 08:19 AM