Nothing but mere mud?

February 26, 2001

Once upon a time, there existed here in this place a certain quality of imagination and wit that was particularly evident at Carnival time. Today, there is significant depth to a nothingness dressed up in glittery gold. The spinal core of Carnival and mas of long ago was creative portrayal.

Over time that idea sunk so deep into the psyche of our people that our very language still expresses a concept that everybody is at all times "playing something". To portray is to play. Portrayal and life were one and the same.

Often when it appears difficult or impossible to judge or measure the mettle or character of someone, the question is asked: "What he playing?" Who he is and what he is stands tantamount to what he portrays or what he plays. And to play, certain stringent rituals had first to be carefully observed.

It was serious business. There even had to be a purification process that individuals underwent. You did not just get up one morning to play and portray the "Bookman" in a King Devil band. One even had to rehearse months before. In a poem written almost 30 years ago, titled "Red Hawk - The Journey of a Mas Artist", I said the following:

"... Take courage, Red Hawk, take courage
and turn from the hills of Laventille
to test again
the limits of existence...
Cry the need, the thirst, for boundless movement
and soaring consciousness beyond
the visions and barriers of resisting horizons
to defy the stirrings
of puny mortals and omnipotence...
But, who shall bow to Red Hawk
when a crown of fiery feathers and costume colours
hectic heavy, glide down on void below?
And what is it about this land's forsaking sustenance,
this piece of undulating crust, that cares not
nor cannot contain the Hawk?...

"Whose blood is this?...
Tamed by none, caged by nothing
Red Hawk sees it all
from atop forked mountain cliffs
surveying first quarry rocks
and jumbled shacks...
Why fly so high above containment,
walk so strong, alert?
Matters only that Hawk is Hawk
and mas is the swirling consciousness
of Geronimoes imparting words
by simply being...

Final blend for feathered crown
fashioned red with yellow streaks beneath black lining
like the cloudy dusk.
It shall talk tomorrow of hope
and Monday's now sinking Sun
that rose to open two Moons' travel
with beads and little mirrors
counting lives of warriors strong
who walked the land in solitude.
Mainly, tomorrow, Tuesday's dawn
shall invoke unknown tongues like fluent water
and Red Hawk acknowledging
neither fear nor omnipotent presence
shall move on down, oozy orbs ogling tense
leaving in wake that careless noise
to feel at last no other self..."

It all indicates the power of the art. It is a journey into Self that suggests for us the power and the significance of the mask (mas), the importance of the face in front of the face. The question then arises: Which "face" is the true reflection and representation of the soul? How much of falsity is truth and how much of truth is falsity?

One was even tempted to also ask, what is "spirit" and what is "letter", given the most recent constitutional impasse.

The point is only we can define reality for us who occupy this space. Something our Attorney General in particular must note well.

Carnival teaches a lot, at least Carnival as we knew it. It is through Carnival and mas that we came to comprehend that "parody", ie humorous exaggeration and mimicry, as well as "satire", ie sarcasm used to expose folly and stupidity, are central traits of our national cultural characteristics. And our sense of parody and satire in viewing and reviewing the world was best exhibited by the ole mas bands of yesteryear.

One recalls Quo Vadis, The Glory that was Greece, None Shall Escape, etc and wonders where are the Big-Head Hoytes, Clyde Butts and Carl Blackmans of this present generation? Where are they? Is this present generation totally devoid of wit and imagination? Have we degenerated so much as a civilisation that J'Ouvert presentations are now nothing but mere mud?

And big mas portrayals, if they can be called that, are nothing but female narcissism! Besides mud and female narcissism, the only other ingredient in today's Carnival is commercial hype.

Carnival must be reclaimed.