Stoic Week 4/5: Spite

Note: Epictetus and Aurelius examined fictional characters like Medea and Hercules through a Stoic template. Inspired, I apply the Stoic orientation to the messed-up impressions of characters in the TV stories of the original Perry Mason (1957 - 1966) and then had the ghost in the machine recast it in the style of Seneca. In the novel TCOT Shoplifter’s Shoe, Perry Mason says, "People have their strong points and their weak points. The true philosopher sees them as they are, and is never disappointed, because he doesn’t expect too much. The cynic is one who starts out with a false pattern and becomes disappointed because people don’t conform to that pattern. Most of the little chiseling practices come from trying to cope with our economic conventions. When it comes right down to fundamentals, people are fairly dependable. The neighbor who would cheat you out of a pound of sugar would risk her life to save you from drowning."

The Case of the Witless Witness (Season 6, Episode 28, 5/16/63)

It is a curious thing, Lucilius, how men of sound judgment and upright character, once content to dispense justice from the bench, are drawn to the theater of politics, where virtue is often mocked and ambition wears the mask of service. Judge Daniel Redmond, a man of probity, has accepted the nomination to be Lieutenant Governor - a role which, to the Stoic, may seem as superfluous as weighing down the wise with the ceremonial chains of spectacle and trumpery.

Why would a man exchange the solemn majesty of the law for the hollow pomp and jibber-jabber of political office? Perhaps he imagines he can steer the ship of state. But the Stoic knows: the sea is not calmed by the hand on the rudder, but by the soul unshaken by storms. Yet before we can ponder this folly further, the judge is accused - of fraud, no less, and of poisoning a witness.

The irony is not lost on those who remember his long-ago lecture on statutory fraud, delivered with romantic fervor at a party teeming with lobbyists and fixers. Madge Eberly, once the object of his near-proposal, recalls this moment with a venomous smile. “Weren’t you advising them on fraud?” she asks, her tone sweet with malice. Redmond protests - he spoke only of how fraud might be done, not how it should be. But Madge, spurned and bitter, has already passed the tale to those who would see him fall.

Spite, Lucilius, is a passion rarely named in our post-modern age, which prefers to dress its wounds in irony and scrolling. But the Stoic sees it clearly: it is the soul’s abject surrender to perceived injury, the abdication of reason to resentment. To be consumed by spite is to give one's tranquility to another, to become the very thing one despises.

Marcus Aurelius, that emperor of the inner citadel, reminds us: “The best revenge is not to be like your enemy.” Madge, in her bitterness, has become the architect of her own unrest. Redmond, if he is wise, will not answer her poison with more poison, but with steadfastness and the legal hocus-pocus of Perry Mason.

Stoic Week 3/5: Ambition and Smarts

Note: Epictetus and Aurelius examined fictional characters like Medea and Hercules through Stoic sunglasses. Inspired, I apply the Stoic orientation to the messed-up impressions of characters in the TV stories of the original Perry Mason (1957 - 1966) and then I had the ghost in the machine recast it in the style of Musonius Rufus. In the novel TCOT Caretaker’s Cat, Perry Mason says on Stoic risk-taking, “What the hell can a man lose? He can't lose his life because he doesn't own that anyway. He has only a lease on life. He can lose money and money doesn't mean one damn thing as compared with character. All that really counts is a man's ability to live life, to get the most out of it as he goes through it, and he gets the most kick out of it by playing a no-limit game.”

The Case of the Larcenous Lady (Season 4, Episode 12, 12/17/60)

On the Pitfalls of Ambition

It is not the pursuit of high office that corrupts, but the manner in which one pursues it. Mona, though professing restraint, reveals herself not as a guardian of virtue but as one enslaved by ambition. She declares she will not interfere in the process of appointing her husband to a high post in state government, yet she proceeds to extort and manipulate, believing that the ends justify the means. But no end, however grand, can sanctify the use of vice. To blackmail is to abandon reason, and to intimidate is to forsake justice.

Such acts are not the marks of a noble soul but of one diseased by desire. The wise do not seek elevation through the exploitation and suffering of others. If a post is to be held, let it be earned through merit and service, not deceit. For what is the value of a crown gained by corruption? It weighs heavier on the conscience than on the brow.

Mona’s fate - death by the very ambition she nurtured - is not tragic but instructive. The Stoic mourns an end to all children of God, but learns from their unhappy fates: that unchecked desire leads not to glory, but to ruin.

On the Missteps of the Young and the Importance of Practical Wisdom

Susan, though kind and intelligent, lacks the prudence that wisdom demands. She gives away a great sum without securing proof in the form of a receipt, and worse, she tampers with death and deceit. To pick up a weapon at a crime scene is not merely foolish - it is a failure to consider what is within one’s control. To lie to one’s attorney about firing the shot from the murder gun to divert suspicion from the man she loved (identical to the one that didn't even know she was alive) is to sabotage the very advocacy one seeks.

Musonius Rufus taught that philosophy is not for idle speculation but for living rightly. Wisdom is not found in books alone, but in the choices we make daily. To act without thought is to live as a child, not as an adult with the slightest pretentions to live like a Stoic philosopher. Susan’s errors are not sins of malice, but of ignorance - and ignorance, though forgivable, is dangerous when left uncorrected.

Let us then teach our youth not only to be kind, but to have good calculation. Let them learn that love, if not guided by wisdom, becomes a tyrant. That truth, even when painful, is the ally of justice. And that in all things, we must ask: Is this within my power? Is this in accordance with virtue?

Stoic Week 2/5: Revenge

Note: Both Epictetus and Aurelius examined fictional characters like Medea and Hercules through a Stoic lens. Inspired, I apply the Stoic orientation to the messed-up impressions of characters in the TV stories of the original Perry Mason (1957 - 1966) and then I had the ghost in the machine recast it in the style of Marcus Aurelius. In the novel TCOT Phantom Fortune, Perry Mason says, “Make up your mind to one thing, Mrs. Warren. After water has run downstream and over the dam, you can't find any way on earth of getting it back upstream and over the dam a second time. Take things as they come. Concentrate on the present, forget the past.”

The Case of the Lonely Heiress (Season 1, Episode 20, 2/1/58)

Observe Delores, as portrayed by Anna Navarro - a force of nature, yes, but one enslaved by her own passions. She lashes out not because others provoke her, but because she has allowed anger and anxiety to become the lens through which she sees the world. She is not free. She is ruled.

And what of her love for Charlie? If it is love, it is love corrupted - possessive, destructive, conditional. “If I cannot have him, no one can.” This is not affection. It is tyranny disguised as longing.

When poor Delores asks, “Do you think I’m a bad girl?” the question pierces the heart. The Stoic does not rush to condemn. We are all flawed, all fallible. But when one’s life is a litany of cruelty - greed, violence, deceit, exploitation - then yes, we must say: this is not the path of virtue. This is the path of ruin.

And yet, Delores is not the only one lost. Marilyn seeks revenge for her sister’s self-destruction, believing Charlie to be the cause. But what is revenge, if not the surrender of reason to emotion? To retaliate is to become the very thing that wounded you. It is to let another’s vice dictate your own virtue.

Marcus Aurelius reminds us: “The best revenge is to be unlike him who performed the injury.” To plot revenge is to allow external events to govern your inner state. It is to give away your peace, your judgment, your soul.

Let Marilyn learn from pain. Let her transform grief into wisdom. Let her choose forgiveness - not because the wrong was small, but because her spirit is large. Forgiveness is not weakness. It is strength. It is the refusal to be ruled by bitterness.

And let us remember: rage, revenge, and resentment are thieves. They steal our clarity, our compassion, our capacity for excellence. The Stoic does not deny emotion - but he does not serve it. He serves reason. He serves virtue. He serves the inner citadel.

Stoic Week 1/5: Obsession

Note: Epictetus, Seneca and Aurelius examined fictional characters like Medea, Odysseus, and Hercules through a Stoic lens. Inspired, I apply the Stoic orientation to the messed-up impressions of characters in the TV stories of the original Perry Mason (1957 - 1966). In TCOT Perjured Parrot, Perry Mason says, "We've been talking quite a bit about becoming hypnotized by circumstantial evidence. After a person once gets a fixed belief, he interprets everything which happens in the light of that belief. It's a dangerous habit to get into and I'm afraid I haven't been entirely innocent, myself."

The Case of the Misguided Missile (Season 4, Episode 25; 5/6/61)

Aerospace engineer Dan Morgan’s obsession with rocket propulsion probably started when he was a teenager under the influence of pioneer Robert Godard in the Twenties.  Morgan said “Jets hadn’t been invented when I was talking about missiles.” So in the early Sixties he landed his dream job in NASA’s space program. But a nosy auditor wouldn't let Morgan’s Sceptre blast off, so Morgan killed the auditor. On the stand a starry-eyed Morgan rants, “I built the first Sceptre, and it flew. It flew!”

In a culture that encourages people to pursue obsessions and fanaticisms, the Stoic stance is radical to say aloud but here goes. It’s possible to like and dislike, work and play, think and do in a moderate fashion. When our preference is moderate, it leads us to set reasonable goals and work toward them wisely.  If our preference is immoderate, says Daniel Gilbert in Stumbling Toward Happiness, it leads us to lie, to cheat, to steal, to hurt others, and to sacrifice things of value, like spending time with family, for the sake of work – or whatever our passion is all about. 

European Reading Challenge #10

Note: Alan Watts sometimes spoke of materialists and abstractionists. Materialists are devoted to loafing and savoring the physical and the present while the abstractionists do their damnedest to make us materialist scamps “fit” or “correct” or “productive” or “future-oriented.” Mozart was a materialist: Listen to the waves. Beethoven was an abstractionist: Enjoy listening to the waves!

Mozart: A Life – Peter Gay

Wolfgang’s father Leopold was musically talented but Leopold ascribed to God his daughter’s prodigious musical proficiency and his son’s musical genius. Piety did not stop Leopold from taking the divinely inspired children on grueling road trips to perform at European courts. Uncomfortable carriages. Bad food. Epidemics. Nor could late nights and perpetual instability have been healthy for the two kids. It was on one of these long exhausting tours that our Mozart contracted rheumatic fever. He was to suffer periodic relapses of fever, swelling, rash, and fatigue in youth and adulthood. It’s not a stretch to claim rheumatic fever contributed to his early death, of exhaustion and over-work, at 35 years of age, in 1791.

Gay points out that young Mozart soaked up all the different genres of music he was exposed to: J.C. Bach for cantatas, Handel for fugues, Hayden for symphonies, and Gluck for operas. Mozart started composing when he was only a child of seven years old. Mozart found his own voice when he was about 16 years old, in the finale of KV 134 Symphony No. 21 in A major. His favorite genre was opera and many say he was the greatest opera composer of all time.

Not a musicologist, historian Gay discusses the music in lay terms for the general reader. Gay also mentions Mozart‘s practical jokes and sense of comedy. And quotes scatological passages from letters that may be hilarious or bewildering, depending on the reader’s predispositions. Not a womanizer, Mozart was fond of strong women – wife Constanze was decidedly not a ditz though she was a soprano* - and featured strong women characters in his operas.

The short biography is for readers that want the highlights of the life and times of the subject. Without being callous about it, Gay offers contra-Romantic views of Mozart’s last year and his demise. For instance, though many people sigh at the forlorn image of a simple cart taking the remains of the neglected abused artist to a common grave with no stone or flowers, there was no way Mozart’s estate, facing huge debt, could pay for a private funeral. 

Its only drawback is that while it lists many books for further reading, it does not list recordings that experts would recommend to the lay listener. I know it is beyond the scope of the life, but interesting would have been a chapter on the history of the Mozart legend and how after WWII the Mozart we know today was constructed by the recording industry and notables such as Malcolm Bilson, Sir John Eliot Gardiner, Sir Charles Mackerras, Alfred Brendel, Wolfgang Meyer, and Nikolaus Harnoncourt.

* “Why is there a soprano outside of your door? She can't find the key and doesn't know when to come in” is just one egregious example of the appalling stereotypes that dog sopranos to this day.

Evelyn Venable 5/5

Note: After a promising start in Death Takes a Holiday, Double Door, and two Will Rogers movies, philistine producers decided modest, unassuming Evelyn Venable was not star material and assigned her to low-quality B-movies. While many B-movies (like the one below) are fun watching, nothing could induce me to watch a 1935 biopic of Stephen Foster, produced by Mascot Pictures, with cheap production values, cheap directing and cheap writing.  “I never regretted leaving films,” Venable later said. “If I have any regrets at all it is in leaving the stage. I might have been a really good actress. There simply was no chance in most of my pictures nor was I getting the proper training.”

He Hired the Boss
1943 / 1:12
Tagline: “IT'S AN OUT-AND-OUT RIOT! He's all-out for National Defense....and she's all-out for him!”
[internet archive]

Set in a sleepy California town during WWII, this quirky comedy kicks off with a blackout drill led by a hyper-dedicated air raid warden. While he’s laser-focused on keeping the lights out, a gang of silk thieves is busy looting supplies meant for the 506th Parachute Infantry Regiment. Classic case of missing the forest for the trees.

That warden is Hubert (played by Stu Ervin), a man so punctual people set their watches by his walk to work. He’s a meticulous bookkeeper, a compulsive saver, and a volunteer who collects tinfoil for the war effort (a nod to the real-life use of aluminum “chaff” to jam German radar). But all this civic virtue masks a deeper flaw: Hubert is a world-class procrastinator.

He’s been stuck in the same dead-end job for 15 years, too timid to ask for a raise. He’s in love with his coworker Emily (Evelyn Venable), but insists he can’t afford marriage. Emily, who’s had enough of his dithering, calls him out: life isn’t for the timid, and happiness doesn’t require a zero balance. She’s especially fed up that Hubert keeps loaning money to a guy who never pays him back. Her advice? Be brave, be broke, but be happy.

Hubert finally gets drafted - only to be rejected for a dust allergy. His boss takes him back, but slashes his pay and demotes him. Then, in a rare moment of rebellion (and a bit of liquid courage from partying with sailors), Hubert calls his boss an “old cabbage puss” and gets fired. Emily gets canned too, for failing to stop her sister from eloping with the boss’s son. Cue generational tension (a common theme in the Twenties and Thirties): the young folks are fighting a war and want to live life on their own terms, not under the thumb of the old guard.

This double firing sets off the film’s climax. Hubert stumbles into success in the extraction business and helps bust the silk-stealing traitors. But the ending? Total letdown. Hubert goes back to work for the same boss who treated him and Emily like garbage. It’s a baffling move that ignores both professional logic and basic human dignity. Why reward a toxic employer who ran the company into the ground?

Still, Stu Ervin delivers genuine laughs. One standout scene has him waking up hungover after partying with sailors, muttering, “I’m afraid to look in the mirror because I might not see anybody.” Ervin specialized in playing small-town guys who finally grow a spine. He was a B-movie regular and starred in one of TV’s earliest sitcoms, Trouble with Father, which still holds up (and features a young Sheila Kuehl - yes, that Sheila Kuehl).

Evelyn Venable, tall and graceful with a voice like velvet, shines as Emily. This was her final film, made after a three-year break to raise her daughters. Hollywood never quite knew what to do with her delicate charm. After a tiny role in a forgettable western and an uncredited voice gig as the Blue Fairy in Pinocchio, she walked away from the industry in 1943.

But Venable didn’t fade away - she pivoted. In the early Fifties, she enrolled at UCLA with her daughters, earned a degree in Latin, and later a master’s in classics. She became a professor, teaching Latin prose and directing Greek plays. Her academic career was a quiet triumph, admirable and inspiring for those of us in education. She came from a long line of teachers and found her true calling in the classroom.

So while the movie may fumble its ending, it’s worth watching for Ervin’s comic timing and Venable’s understated brilliance. And if you’re ever feeling stuck like Hubert, remember Emily’s advice: debt’s not the end of the world - but fear might be.

Evelyn Venable 4/5

Note: This week we are looking at some movies with Evelyn Venable. She was considered a "poetic" type of actress with exquisite features and a beautiful speaking voice. Her voice is genuinely warm, friendly and assured in an educated way – she came from a family of teachers. Venable had a gentle, wholesome, and somewhat demure on-screen persona, which stands in contrast to her being cast as bit of a go-getter in this B-comedy.  Her aura of intelligence and dignity might have worked against her in the cashbox minds of producers who wanted  “independent women” like Kay Francis or “sex bombs” like Jean Harlow.

Hollywood Stadium Mystery
1938 / 1:06
Tagline: “Ringside seats for a crime!”
[internet archive]

Let’s be honest: the screwball elements are tepid, and the mystery is strictly by-the-numbers. But what elevates this Thirties B-picture above the usual studio filler is its leads - Neil Hamilton and Evelyn Venable - who bring unexpected sophistication to a noisy genre that usually leans on pratfalls and punchlines.

Hamilton plays Bill Devons, a District Attorney with no patience for pulp fiction nonsense. Venable is Pauline Ward, a mystery writer who’s clearly read her share of Havelock Ellis and Bernard Shaw. Both characters are articulate, ambitious, and refreshingly adult - like they’ve just stepped out of a grad seminar with Cyril Connolly on The Taming of the Shrew. It’s a welcome break from the usual B-movie archetypes: the lunkhead guy and the wisecracking dame.

Hamilton toggles between suave and smug with ease, even when saddled with clunkers like, “Marry me and then I'd have a legal right to box your ears in.” Venable, meanwhile, is a revelation. Her performance is precise and expressive, her voice cultured without being affected. You get the sense that her intelligence may have been a liability in an industry that preferred its leading ladies either glamorously vacant or sassily streetwise. At 5’8” with a her own face that defied the studio mold, Venable may have been too much herself for the system.

Barbara Pepper steals her two scenes as Althea Ames, a brassy actress caught up in the murder of a boxer. She delivers zingers like, “You liked it enough last night,” with the kind of timing that makes you wish she had more screen time. Her resigned line - “All you men ever think about is eating” - lands with a sigh and a wink to all women.

Clocking in at just over an hour, the film moves briskly. The sets - especially the offices and boxing arena - feel surprisingly authentic for a Republic Pictures production, a studio not exactly known for lavish realism.

For fans of 1930s cinema, this film is a time capsule of cultural quirks: brass bands at boxing matches, comic relief via mouth noises (thanks, Smiley Burnett), and yes, the regrettable appearance of blackface as a disguise - an uncomfortable reminder of what passed for humor in the era.

As a bonus for us Perry Mason fans, both Hamilton and Pepper would later appear in the classic TV series - he as the uptight male that thinks he’s got the bead on life, she as the salt-of-the-earth type.