Sappho, "We shall enjoy it" (tr. Mary Barnard)

A post or two ago, I spoke about wrestling inspiration from Sappho. Some years back, I bought a book of her fragments for $2, telling myself I hoped to write more, not quite realizing my hidden delusions of grandeur. I didn't fully appreciate the difference between the public and the private. I just assumed that if I wrote more about anything it would turn into an audience. That is true, but not true enough.

The funny thing is that the very first fragment I encountered in the book addresses this. Sappho commands us to "tell everyone" she will sing for her friends' pleasure; "everyone" appropriately shrinks or expands her circle. The outstanding question is how this is done. I am partial to believing we receive hints of a recipe: a dash of spontaneity, the risk of an audience, an attempt at shared pleasure. The private becomes the public and the public becomes the private and this is a process entailing dedication to craft and the courage of acceptance. "Tell everyone" serves as an invitation in multiple senses.

So here's Sappho declaring "We shall enjoy it." A command, a wish, a pledge to and of the audience. We are here and we will make the most of this. Even if you hate me now, you want to try and salvage this time. A curse resides for those who don't want to do anything of the sort. A curse for the so-called haters. "As for him who finds / fault, may silliness / and sorrow take him!"

We shall enjoy it
Sappho (tr. Mary Barnard)

We shall enjoy it

As for him who finds
fault, may silliness
and sorrow take him!

It's "silliness" which sticks out to me. I think it sticks out to you, too. For a potent example of why, let's turn to the stereotypes defining politics in this country. Your typical Fox News watcher believes in a creature called a "liberal" who whines about everything because they are oh-so-serious. The "liberal" is too devoted to rights and norms, disabling common sense to enable (whoever demagogues deem) criminals. A little bit of silliness, for a (fact-free, careless, self-proclaimed) conservative, might make the country better.

Actual liberals are not immune to this magical thinking. Remember "Drumpf?" "Covfefe?" The notion that making fun of Trump's actual name or Twitter typos would sink him? It isn't exactly wrong that making the regime ridiculous can inspire people to resist. But I can guess why that attempt to seize the initiative with silliness backfired. Some voted for Trump because they saw their cost of living increase and those who looked like them become victims of genocide. You can't invite victims of exploitation and persecution to a joke without first building trust.

Going back to the poem, Sappho makes a wish. "As for him who finds / fault, may silliness / and sorrow take him!" And I wonder if she believes in the power of the ridiculous. That if you don't appreciate her efforts, you will find yourself thought a fool. I can see her reasoning. There are many things with a high cost of entry where you can look terrible to the uninitiated. You practice a fancy dribble for months, then try it out in a game against a premier defender. They rob the ball from you despite a move that with a little more practice will make you unstoppable. Or you have an excellent song speaking of the newness and unpredictability of love. It has a key change which, if your audience is engaged, can be overlooked. They'll hear you singing the rest of your song out of tune because of their applause at the wrong moment. Those who know understand you look silly for complicated reasons. You aren't actually silly. Someone making fun of something daring and carefully practiced is actually silly. An idiot, in the formal sense of ancient Greek. Private to the point they can't comprehend what goes into public affairs. Not only politics, but mass entertainment, education, performance, provision.

Maybe Sappho's wish made more sense during 600-500 B.C.E. Nowadays, anyone can launch into a jeremiad about how hospitals which saved their lives don't actually do anything. Or scream that clean water isn't worth having. Silly idiots abound and are not lassoed by "sorrow." They rant, preach, and form their own cult. You might imagine someone in Sappho's day bringing a bunch of incels to her performance to boo her incessantly so they steal her seat and her audience. When Mathias Walshos grabs the rock, he advertises his podcast: you can hear "Am I Racist?" in the nearest conch shell. Then he spends the rest of his time trashing Sappho because he has no other material.

I do believe we can get back to making people feel silly for their sheer ignorance. The way I'm reflecting on Sappho is a clue. You have to lay out your cards and show what excellence truly is. Not the wizardry of a magic or circus trick, but a documenting of dedication, practice, and the innumerable failures involved. You don't find fault, as you are resolved to know how things work. Faults are merely steps to perfection.