WRITER - Vancouver Lifestyles -
Sorry
Murray Burns has 17 soliloquies. The best is his “I’m sorry” speech.
Murray is the central character in Herb Gardner’s 1962 comedy, “A Thousand Clowns.” The late Jason Robards Jr. played Murray in the original Broadway hit and again, a few years later, in the movie. In spite of starring in legendary productions of “The Iceman Cometh” and “Long Day’s Journey Into Night,” Robards often claimed that this was his all-time favourite role.
In the “I’m sorry” monologue, Murray comes back to the apartment and explains to his new social-worker girlfriend that has just stood at a busy intersection in Manhattan and practiced a hundred or so versions of saying to passers-by “I’m sorry.” It’s a great showpiece for an actor, and, of course, a great piece of comic writing because who in the audience hasn’t struggled with the morals, or at least the intonations, of this universally debased phrase?
What is interesting about Murray Burn’s efforts at retribution is that he never once offers something like, “Gee, I’m awfully sorry that you feel badly about what I said or did. Perhaps you misunderstood me. Maybe I misspoke myself.” If he had said something like this he would be very much in keeping with present trends, and not lodged hopelessly in the more courtly 1960’s.
Where are the apologies that whole-heartedly embrace an unadorned admission of guilt and contrition? The only recent example our researchers have been able to unearth is that of baseball’s Dark Shadow, Pete Rose. Mr. Rose has announced that he is now offering on his website a baseball with his personal inscription, “I’m sorry I bet on baseball.” At $299US plus shipping and handling, it’s a steal. Or a base hit. Or a punt. Or a mulligan, or something. Watch for Pete to appear soon opposite Joan Rivers on The Shopping Channel. Joan will miniaturize the orbs to be worn as earrings or pendants. Whether dining or getting groceries, the perfect accessory.
Closer to home, we in British Columbia can boast that we are the first Canadian province to pass the Apology Act. Now, don’t confuse this with the Procreative Act. While related, this has an entirely different thrust. Passed in the blossoming month of May, when most locals are positively dizzy from the elixirs of Japanese Cherry trees and thus unable to offer our customary clarity of thought, the Apology Act has now enabled public officials and politicians to say, “I’m sorry,” without legal consequence. In other words, “You can’t sue me, sucker.”
In some maritime curiosity, this is called “safe harbour” legislation. Akin, perhaps, to hubby saying, “Yes, I’ve been boning Mathilda down the street for a year now,” and resting comfortable in the knowledge that the Mrs. won’t sell the furniture, hide the kids or perform radical surgery over the kitchen sink.
On the world stage, there is only one show in town. It’s called Terrorism. And make no mistake, the Bad Guys are winning. The terrorists have shut down much more than airports and train stations. They have highjacked something more ephemeral and fluid than shampoo and Pellegrino.
The hostage is Free Speech.
For a man of his age, the Pope is demonstrating remarkable plasticity in his bending-over-backwards efforts to placate those offended by his perfectly reasonable public comments about religion and violence. Imagine this unlikely scene: a mob of crazed Christians storming a piazza in Napoli to burn an effigy of an exalted Imam. Note that His Holiness did not say, “I am sorry for what I said. I offended you and I was wrong.” What he said was, “I am sorry that you feel badly about what I said.” The very model of a modern generalized apology. Such is Life in the Age of Public Relations. Remember that the Republicans laugh at “reality-based” Democrats. Republicans pity the deluded fools who can’t grasp the concept of “narrative.”
The Pope’s apology is swimming in irony. First, it needn’t have been made. It is possible the “offended” may have found a new respect for an unrepentant Pontiff. Second, it wasn’t a thorough apology. It was one of those modern “No Fault” jobs.
This is how most of us apologize today. “Even though I didn’t really do anything wrong, because I am me and therefore not capable of doing anything wrong, I’m sorry, sort of, that you feel like total heck about something that I don’t quite understand because I feel fine actually. Make that a 2% chai latte with cinnamon. Hold the chocolate sprinkles, or maybe I’ll have them on the side.”
Last week, I found myself listening to a little-known, rarely played Mozart opera called “Idomeneo.” I was on my daily heart walk. I didn’t quite get the drift of the story, but the music was lovely.
The next day, a Berlin Opera house announced that it was not going to stage this very piece because of “concerns it could provoke Islamic ire.” Apparently, the production includes a scene in which King Idemeneo presents the severed heads of Poseidon and Muhammad and Jesus and Buddha. The German Chancellor, Angela Merkel warned against “self-censorship out of fear.” A leader of the Turkish community in Germany told Bavarian Radio that it was time for his fellow Muslims to accept freedom of expression in art. “We should not make art dependent on religion ‘ then we are back in the Middle Ages.”
Good point. But let’s not be so quick to dismiss the Middle Ages. True you could die of an impacted wisdom tooth before puberty.
On the other hand, folks really knew how to say, “I am sorry. I am truly, from the bottom of my heart, Madame, sorry.”
And it was clear in those days that the guy yelling and screaming and waving the sword was the enemy.
Sorry.
