Tall tales of devilish covenants

Jan 20, 2019 Countryman, Features / Columnists

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By Dennis Nichols

The holiday season is well and truly over, and whatever respite it provided from the political bombshell on December 21 has dissipated, as the aftershock reverberates across our country. Some persons think the Charrandass Persaud vote was a courageous and conscientious response to three-and-a-half years of money-grabbing, political and economic mismanagement. Others suspect a less heroic motive, suggesting that big money played a part in a well-planned opposition plot to bring down the government, with oil on the horizon.
On both sides of the political fence are human beings for whom the prospect of wealth, power, and success can trigger either subtle or blatant changes in behaviour and expectations. One farfetched scenario, more akin to fiction than truth, involves the prostitution of one’s soul to perdition for material riches and sensual fulfilment while making a mockery of professed selflessness and altruistic service. The world is filled with prosperity dreamers and schemers, and Guyana is no exception.
This somewhat topical introduction is a preamble to a brief paraphrase of two Faustian tales – ‘The Picture of Dorian Gray’ by Oscar Wilde, and Stephen Vincent Benet’s ‘The Devil and Daniel Webster,’ which I think some readers will find absorbing, though maybe only thinly relevant. It is not an allusion to any individual or group in our society, and any such likeness would be purely coincidental. Human beings are generally inclined to greed and selfishness, and if given the option of cutting an opportunistic deal with the devil, some of us may actually consider it worth the risk, especially when the consequences appear distant or revocable.
In ‘The Picture of Dorian Gray’ readers are introduced to a character whose handsomeness and growing narcissism are translated into the pursuit of pleasure after meeting and being influenced by one Lord Henry Wotton. The latter, a hedonist, watches as the young man poses for a portrait by an artist who is infatuated by his subject’s beauty. Wotton persuades Dorian to embrace the hedonistic lifestyle, pursuing beauty and sensuality, and indulging in ‘every possible vice’ including murder. But first, he purchases eternal youth at the expense of his soul, with the assurance that no matter how debauched he becomes, his youthful beauty will remain unchanged; his portrait instead will display all the signs of aging and degeneracy.
He cruelly rejects his lover, Sybil, then notices when he returns home, that the portrait now has a callous sneer, and feels a measure of remorse. He seeks Sybil’s forgiveness, but she commits suicide before he can reach her. He is consoled by Lord Wotton who convinces him not to embrace guilt. Dorian removes the ‘offending’ portrait to his attic. He then reads a book given to him by Lord Wotton, which poisons his mind and influences him to live in sinful self-indulgence for the next 18 years. Meanwhile, the portrait becomes aged and corrupted even as Dorian remains unblemished in appearance.
One day, he runs into the portrait painter, Basil Hallward, who informs him of rumours that he has destroyed the lives and reputations of many people, and begs him to seek salvation. Dorian admits his debauchery but rejects the accusation, and takes Hallward to the attic where, in a rage, he stabs the painter to death after hearing that the now horrible portrait is a reflection of his own soul. He blackmails an old friend into disposing of the body, after which the man kills himself.
Dorian is then accosted in an opium den by Sybil’s brother, James, who had been pursuing him with vengeance in his heart ever since his sister’s death 18 years ago. He is however confused by Dorian’s youthful appearance and lets him go, only to learn the truth from a woman who knows Dorian’s secret. James continues to pursue Dorian but is killed in a hunting accident. Thereafter, Dorian seems to change for the better by refusing to take advantage of a young, infatuated girl. He hopes this honourable act will improve his portrait, but observes that it has only gotten uglier.
In a rage, he decides to destroy the image, the only visible reminder of his dissolute life, and stabs it with the same knife used to kill the painter. The house servants hear a frightful scream and rush to investigate. They find a hideously decrepit old man dead on the floor with a knife in his chest. And near him lies the portrait of a handsome young man, now restored to its former pristine appearance. (The moral is evident)
In ‘The Devil and Daniel Webster’, a farmer, Jabez Stone, after enduring severe hardships, sells his soul to the devil, (Mr. Scratch) in exchange for seven years of prosperity. Like all devilish pacts, it is honoured and his farm prospers. When the contract ends, Scratch turns up for Jabez’s soul, but grants him a three-year extension after the farmer sees his neighbour’s soul in Scratch’s pocket, and becomes deeply fearful.
As the day of reckoning approaches, Jabez employs the services of Daniel Webster, a lawyer and orator of great fame, to argue his case in court. Knowing that Scratch has the upper hand, Webster allows him to select the judge and jury, but demands with patriotic fervour that they must be Americans. Scratch selects a ‘judge and jury of the damned’ comprising traitors and murderers from the darker pages of American history. From the beginning of the trial, the deck is stacked against Webster.
The angry attorney almost falls for a ploy to enrage him and come under the judge and jury’s evil power. But Webster keeps a cool head and throws them off balance with an appeal to American patriotism, notwithstanding all the wrongdoing outlined by Scratch, who let it be known that he was no ‘foreign prince’ as suggested by Webster, but as American as everyone else. He argues, “When the first wrong was done to the first Indian, I was there; when the first slaver put out for the Congo, I was on her deck…”
Webster counters with a calculated closing argument in which he extols the virtues of being human, and American – of simple and good things like fresh fine mornings, the taste of food, and the necessity of freedom for a child, admitting that though the country had done wrong, something new and good had emerged from the bad, down to the role of its traitors. His tone is measured, eloquent, and ultimately persuasive, and the jury responds in favour of his client, although the evidence was against him. Scratch admits defeat, congratulates Webster, and tears up the contract.
Both stories are layered and convey deep moral/philosophical ideas about good and evil, and the power of words to either persuade or dissuade. Do they have any relevance to Guyana’s current political situation? Maybe.
In the coming days, (weeks, months) legal arguments will be made to influence the outcome of matters before our local courts, and possibly the Caribbean Court of Justice. Their persuasive rhetoric may bear some slight similarity to those of Lord Wotton, Mr. Scratch, and Daniel Webster. Jurists are obliged to view them circumspectly. After all, only one of those gentlemen had honourable intentions.

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