The audacity of eloquence
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- April
- 4
This Sunday is host to an embarrassment of riches on the tube.
At 8 p.m., the History Channel presents “King” with Tom Brokaw, in honor of the life of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. and remembrance of his assassination 40 years ago today in Memphis.
At 9 p.m. on PBS’ “Masterpiece,” it’s the conclusion of Andrew Davies’ excellent two-part “Sense and Sensibility,” which, while it won’t make you forget the stylishly ironic 1995 film, has the time to explore the characters’ relationships more deeply.
Meanwhile, HBO continues with Part 5 of the equally fine seven-part “John Adams,” which considers not only the brutality of the intramural game known as presidential politics but the poignant private cost of a public life. Any resonance for our own time is, I’m sure, entirely intentional.
What they all have in common is a belief in the power of the written and the spoken word. There’s a terrific moment in “Sense and Sensibility, ” in which Col. Brandon, head- over-heels for the similarly passionate Marianne Dashwood, confronts her sister Elinor about Marianne’s possible engagement to the scoundrel Willoughby. Brandon is the far worthier beau and part of that worthiness is his willingness to put the desires of the woman he loves above his own. To your sister I wish every possible happiness, he tells Elinor, and to Willoughby that he might endeavor to deserve her.
It is at once a noble relinquishment and a stunning put-down — an example of how language, rather than fists, can deliver the coup de grace.
Among King’s many gifts was a capacity for eloquence equal to Austen’s — though applied in a very different way. Indeed, oratory — once an essential part of American politics — has come back into vogue with the ascent of Barack Obama, even if it is still a neglected and suspect form of communication. (Part of our fascination with Obama is not only the grace with which he can deliver a speech or talk extemporaneously but the disconnect between that ability and our skepticism of it.)
Being a preacher, King was well-acquainted with the Gospels and used their brilliant mirror-imagery to vivid effect, particularly in his elegiac “I’ve Been to the Mountaintop” speech, which today certainly reads like a leave-taking. (Did he have a premonition of his assassination?)
“I may not get there with you,” he told striking sanitation workers at Mason Temple in Memphis the day before he died. “But we, as a people, will get to the promised land.”
That’s as good as anything in the King James Bible.
How many people remember, though, that the speech references ancient Greek writers and the Renaissance? (For that matter, how many local readers know of its tribute to the White Plains High School student who wrote King after an earlier attempt on his life in New York City?)
John Adams would’ve appreciated King’s speech. Whatever the personal and political shortcomings of the man whose pompous Federalism earned him the nickname “His Rotundity,” Adams knew the importance of words — thought of, written, spoken, remembered.
The entertainment/gossip site Defamer.com has pronounced “John Adams” boring.
But then, when your life revolves around the wasp waist of Posh Spice it’s hard to expand the mind.
This entry was posted
on Friday, April 4th, 2008 at 4:51 pm by Georgette Gouveia.
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To this juncture, Defamer's one-fourth right. Although likely true to the actual story, Part 3 of "John Adams" was tremendously dull. That whole episode could (and should) have been covered in 15 to 20 minutes.
That said, I loved parts 1, 2 and 4 and won't be tuning out anytime soon.