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wingedbeast) wrote2017-10-09 12:45 am
wingedbeast) wrote2017-10-09 12:45 am
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Brave New World Deconstruction: Part 6 I Get Defensive Of Bernard
Chapter six spends some time focusing on how the world treats Bernard and how Bernard treats both the world and himself. And, in this chapter, I find myself getting defensive both of Bernard and of what it seems that Huxley may be attempting to criticize.
To the way the world treats Bernard Marx.
Lenina, who still professes to like Bernard somewhat on a superficial level, (and she doesn't really know him, so a superficial level is initially all she has to go one) still views him as odd. She views him as so odd as to merit giving consideration to going, with Benito Hoover (who's a little hairy for her tastes) to a North Pole resort. She doesn't like the North Pole resort, not enough to do and not enough emenities for her taste.
She still wants to go with Bernard Marx because she hasn't been to either America or the Savage Reservations. These are new things for her. And, again, I will say that this is all she has to go on with Bernard Marx, at least at this point. He's nice enough, treats her with a kind of deference that makes her feel good, and he's offering this rare opportunity.
But, still he's odd. Fanny still has her explanation that someone thought he was a Gamma and accidentally put alcohol in his blood-surrogate. I still have my own theory (one that explains Bernard Marx's physical differences) that he was originally a Gamma that, for whatever reason, got filed in with the Alpha-Pluses. Henry Foster has his explanation.
Well, that's an update from "harmless" anyway.
The point is that, much like Hemlholtz, the society at large seems to feel the need to have an explanation for Bernard Marx, a nice safe explanation. It's important that nothing about the off-putting qualities of Bernard Marx be attributable to, say, how he's been treated. Remember that, in Chapter 3, Henry Foster had fun teasing Bernard.
The notion that a lifetime of that kind of treatment doesn't naturally lend to a person completely at ease with the society that abuses them would mean that the society is, itself, the problem. That's not something anybody's going to consider. And, to an extent, I don't think Huxley fully considers that, himself.
The notion that a lifetime of that kind of treatment doesn't naturally lend to someone who likes society would mean that Henry Foster is as much a part of whatever problem of Bernard as Bernard himself. That's not something Henry Foster is going to consider.
And, most importantly, the notion that some deviation of attitude and inclination is essential for the stability of a society is not going to be accepted. The society just isn't set up to even consider such a thing.
Bernard and Lenina's first date, for instance, will lead to the Director of the Center giving Bernard a stern talking-to about not being suitably infantile during leisure hours.
Bernard's idea of an ideal date involves being adult, not giving into their desires, and instead walking around, alone, having a conversation. This is something Lenina's just not set up to understand. She thinks of "alone" as meaning "having sex". And, with the effort of being alone and undistracted...
Note the desperation. She needed that radio on, rather than the thought of silently beholding a landscape of waves, clouds, a moon glowing through the clouds, etc. She wasn't comfortable with the potential of silence.
Because of that, because the society is uncomfortable with silent contemplation, it's uncomfortable with him and, therefore, needs to explain him away.
This is to say that some of his contempt for society is... right. At the very least, it's his right. You're not required to like your abuser.
And, Bernard is contemptuous of the society around him. At a few points throughout this chapter, he responds to bits of common wisdom with a recitation of the number of repetitions involved and the ages during which one undergoes this conditioning. This is contemptuous in small degree.
I suppose I should take issue with the fact that Lenina is caught in the line of fire of his contempt. After all, to whatever degree Bernard is a victim of this society, Lenina is an unknowing victim of this society. Bernard seeks for other ways to be happy and Lenina is too afraid to even acknowledge the concept. But, well, those little bits of hypnopaedic wisdom do need to be combatted.
All the efforts to take his anger and turn it off with a bit of soma do need to be combatted. Which is to say that, during the following, I'm on his side.
None of what I've presented really puts Bernard in a bad light. That's going to happen in just a little bit. Following this date, as stated earlier, the Director will give Bernard a talking-to about his off-hours behavior.
That's a fair amount of weight, both in wording and the power behind it.
And, of course Bernard loves it. It validates everything about him.
Imagine, for a moment, that you live in a world that demands that you have a place, that you act a certain way, live a certain way, believe a certain way, and is intimidated by the fact that you... aren't into sports. Seriously imagine that your society is afraid of you because you actually have the uncomfortable conversations about politics.
When I think about it, I don't even mind that Bernard over-inflates himself in retelling. You might, too. It's a human instinct.
And, neither am I all that put-out when, given confirmation that the threat is real, Bernard gets nigh-immediately crushed by insecurity.
Now, there are elements that make Bernard look bad. He's rude to Lenina's friends. In fact, he's not compatible with Lenina in the first place. And, some of his contempt for the society at large is... well... contemptuous.
There is an ideal balance to be had and Bernard isn't making it. But, Bernard doesn't have influences to train him in achieving that balance. His society and everybody around him, with the exception of Helmholtz Watson who doesn't really respect him, all demand that he only have one highly unbalanced option that... isn't really an option.
It's starting to dawn on me how much Huxley intends for us to dislike Bernard Marx. And, that's a balancing act on Huxley's part. Give us reason to pitty Bernard Marx, while at the same time giving reason not to like him. This is, I believe, an intended line. I remember the end.
But, for all of that, I can't help but think that Huxley's giving too much effort into making sure that we don't like Bernard, that we see him as weak and puffed up even as we see him being put upon by the whole world. And, we'll be expected to like Helmholtz Watson.
As much as I see myself in Bernard Marx, I can't hate him so much. And, as much as the effort seems to tell us, without showing us, reasons not to like Bernard, I instinctively reject that effort. For one thing, it is filled with violations of the "show, don't tell" rule. For another, what perfection are we expecting in these conditions?
Perhaps this is a failing of my reading and my over-empathizing. Feel free to tell me otherwise from your reading. But, I have a feeling that a lot of my view on this will be defensive of Bernard Marx.
Oh, and by the way, I think him not getting sent to Iceland is an unnoticed tragedy for Bernard Marx. If Iceland is the place where the behavioral cases, like Bernard, go, then that simply means that the people who don't fit in go to Iceland. That means that Iceland, for all that it's more isolated from the wider world, would include people who aren't all like Bernard, but has enough people like Bernard that the society there is more accepting of him.
In the sex-mandating purity-culture of England in this Fordly world, Iceland might be a stretch of land where you can be what doesn't need to fit in and still be allowed to fit in. Brave New World's "Island of Misfit Toys" if you will. Bernard doesn't know it, so he fears it and fights it and... well, at the end, I think I'll still hope for the best for him.
To the way the world treats Bernard Marx.
Lenina, who still professes to like Bernard somewhat on a superficial level, (and she doesn't really know him, so a superficial level is initially all she has to go one) still views him as odd. She views him as so odd as to merit giving consideration to going, with Benito Hoover (who's a little hairy for her tastes) to a North Pole resort. She doesn't like the North Pole resort, not enough to do and not enough emenities for her taste.
She still wants to go with Bernard Marx because she hasn't been to either America or the Savage Reservations. These are new things for her. And, again, I will say that this is all she has to go on with Bernard Marx, at least at this point. He's nice enough, treats her with a kind of deference that makes her feel good, and he's offering this rare opportunity.
But, still he's odd. Fanny still has her explanation that someone thought he was a Gamma and accidentally put alcohol in his blood-surrogate. I still have my own theory (one that explains Bernard Marx's physical differences) that he was originally a Gamma that, for whatever reason, got filed in with the Alpha-Pluses. Henry Foster has his explanation.
"You can't teach a rhinoceros tricks," he had explained in his brief and vigorous style. "Some men are almost rhinoceroses; they don't respond properly to conditioning. Poor Devils! Bernard's one of them. Lucklily for him, he's pretty good at his job. Otherwise the Director would never have kept him. However," he added consolingly, "I think he's pretty harmless."
Well, that's an update from "harmless" anyway.
The point is that, much like Hemlholtz, the society at large seems to feel the need to have an explanation for Bernard Marx, a nice safe explanation. It's important that nothing about the off-putting qualities of Bernard Marx be attributable to, say, how he's been treated. Remember that, in Chapter 3, Henry Foster had fun teasing Bernard.
The notion that a lifetime of that kind of treatment doesn't naturally lend to a person completely at ease with the society that abuses them would mean that the society is, itself, the problem. That's not something anybody's going to consider. And, to an extent, I don't think Huxley fully considers that, himself.
The notion that a lifetime of that kind of treatment doesn't naturally lend to someone who likes society would mean that Henry Foster is as much a part of whatever problem of Bernard as Bernard himself. That's not something Henry Foster is going to consider.
And, most importantly, the notion that some deviation of attitude and inclination is essential for the stability of a society is not going to be accepted. The society just isn't set up to even consider such a thing.
Bernard and Lenina's first date, for instance, will lead to the Director of the Center giving Bernard a stern talking-to about not being suitably infantile during leisure hours.
Bernard's idea of an ideal date involves being adult, not giving into their desires, and instead walking around, alone, having a conversation. This is something Lenina's just not set up to understand. She thinks of "alone" as meaning "having sex". And, with the effort of being alone and undistracted...
On their way back across the Channel, Bernard insisted on stopping his propeller and hovering on his helicopter screws within a hundred feet of the waves. The weather had taken a change for the worse; a south-westerly wind had sprung up, the sky was cloudy.
"Look," he commanded.
"But it's horrible," said Lenina, shrinking back from the window. She was appalled by the rushing emptiness of the night, by the black foam-flecked water heaving beneath them, by the pale face of the moon, so haggard and distracted among the hastening clouds. "Let's turn on the radio. Quick!" She reached for the dialing knob and the dashboard and turned it at random.
Note the desperation. She needed that radio on, rather than the thought of silently beholding a landscape of waves, clouds, a moon glowing through the clouds, etc. She wasn't comfortable with the potential of silence.
Because of that, because the society is uncomfortable with silent contemplation, it's uncomfortable with him and, therefore, needs to explain him away.
This is to say that some of his contempt for society is... right. At the very least, it's his right. You're not required to like your abuser.
And, Bernard is contemptuous of the society around him. At a few points throughout this chapter, he responds to bits of common wisdom with a recitation of the number of repetitions involved and the ages during which one undergoes this conditioning. This is contemptuous in small degree.
I suppose I should take issue with the fact that Lenina is caught in the line of fire of his contempt. After all, to whatever degree Bernard is a victim of this society, Lenina is an unknowing victim of this society. Bernard seeks for other ways to be happy and Lenina is too afraid to even acknowledge the concept. But, well, those little bits of hypnopaedic wisdom do need to be combatted.
All the efforts to take his anger and turn it off with a bit of soma do need to be combatted. Which is to say that, during the following, I'm on his side.
"Yes, I know," said Bernard derisively. "'Even Epsilons are useful'! So am I. And I damned well wish I weren't!"
Lenina was shocked by his blasphemy. "Bernard!" She protested in a voice of amazed distress. "How can you?"
In a different key, "How can I?" he repeated meditatively. "No, the real problem is: Ho is it that I can't, or rather-because, after all, I know quite well why I can't-what would it be like if I could, if I were free-not enslaved by my conditioning."
None of what I've presented really puts Bernard in a bad light. That's going to happen in just a little bit. Following this date, as stated earlier, the Director will give Bernard a talking-to about his off-hours behavior.
"And I should like to take this opportunity, Mr. Marx," he went on, "of saying that I'm not at all pleased with the reports I receive of your behaviour outside working hours. You may say that this is not my business. But it is. I have the good name of the Centre to think of. My workers must be above suspicion, particularly those of the highest castes. Alphas are so conditioned that they do not have to be infantile in their emotional behaviour. But that is all the more reason for their making a special effort to conform. It is their duty to be infantile, even against their inclination. And so, Mr. Marx, I give you fair warning." The Director's voice vibrated with an indignation that had now become wholly righteous and impersonal-was the expression of the disapproval of Society itself. "If ever I hear again of any lapse from a proper standard of infantile decorum, I shall ask for your transference to a Sub-Centre-preferably to Iceland. Good morning."
That's a fair amount of weight, both in wording and the power behind it.
And, of course Bernard loves it. It validates everything about him.
Imagine, for a moment, that you live in a world that demands that you have a place, that you act a certain way, live a certain way, believe a certain way, and is intimidated by the fact that you... aren't into sports. Seriously imagine that your society is afraid of you because you actually have the uncomfortable conversations about politics.
When I think about it, I don't even mind that Bernard over-inflates himself in retelling. You might, too. It's a human instinct.
And, neither am I all that put-out when, given confirmation that the threat is real, Bernard gets nigh-immediately crushed by insecurity.
Now, there are elements that make Bernard look bad. He's rude to Lenina's friends. In fact, he's not compatible with Lenina in the first place. And, some of his contempt for the society at large is... well... contemptuous.
There is an ideal balance to be had and Bernard isn't making it. But, Bernard doesn't have influences to train him in achieving that balance. His society and everybody around him, with the exception of Helmholtz Watson who doesn't really respect him, all demand that he only have one highly unbalanced option that... isn't really an option.
It's starting to dawn on me how much Huxley intends for us to dislike Bernard Marx. And, that's a balancing act on Huxley's part. Give us reason to pitty Bernard Marx, while at the same time giving reason not to like him. This is, I believe, an intended line. I remember the end.
But, for all of that, I can't help but think that Huxley's giving too much effort into making sure that we don't like Bernard, that we see him as weak and puffed up even as we see him being put upon by the whole world. And, we'll be expected to like Helmholtz Watson.
As much as I see myself in Bernard Marx, I can't hate him so much. And, as much as the effort seems to tell us, without showing us, reasons not to like Bernard, I instinctively reject that effort. For one thing, it is filled with violations of the "show, don't tell" rule. For another, what perfection are we expecting in these conditions?
Perhaps this is a failing of my reading and my over-empathizing. Feel free to tell me otherwise from your reading. But, I have a feeling that a lot of my view on this will be defensive of Bernard Marx.
Oh, and by the way, I think him not getting sent to Iceland is an unnoticed tragedy for Bernard Marx. If Iceland is the place where the behavioral cases, like Bernard, go, then that simply means that the people who don't fit in go to Iceland. That means that Iceland, for all that it's more isolated from the wider world, would include people who aren't all like Bernard, but has enough people like Bernard that the society there is more accepting of him.
In the sex-mandating purity-culture of England in this Fordly world, Iceland might be a stretch of land where you can be what doesn't need to fit in and still be allowed to fit in. Brave New World's "Island of Misfit Toys" if you will. Bernard doesn't know it, so he fears it and fights it and... well, at the end, I think I'll still hope for the best for him.
no subject
(Anonymous) 2017-10-09 11:06 am (UTC)(link)It's not obvious at this point in the book why the characters saw Iceland so negatively. Maybe the Europeans of Huxley's time equated it with Siberia. In the last couple of decades it's become a popular tourist destination.
When Huxley describes the music of the Fordian age, I imagine it sounding like the Fifth Dimension's "Up Up Away" or perhaps a more saccharine version of Manhattan Transfer.
no subject
And, yes, the music is what might be described as "relentlessly upbeat"... which isn't always a good thing.
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(Anonymous) 2017-10-12 06:16 am (UTC)(link)Clive Feather
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With less in the way of facilities and more in the way of nature, Bernard would actually have more of that internal quiet that he wants.
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(Anonymous) 2017-10-09 04:06 pm (UTC)(link)Huxley comes close to advocating something similar. Fanny’s reaction to Lenina contrasted with Henry’s observation about Lenina to the Assistant Predestinator suggest more than just the double standards for genders in Huxley’s time. He may have expected readers to be horrified that a woman would be pressured to have many partners instead of being monogamous. The overt treatment of women as meat may be intended to show the supposed natural outcome of eliminating the possibility of pregnancy, as Catholic commentators sometimes claim. And there’s Mond’s condemnation of motherhood as unhealthy emotionally, and the dichotomy where calling someone a mother is obscene but calling someone a father is merely comically smutty. It’s unclear how that dichotomy would even arise in the world Huxley describes.
Since one of Huxley’s characters speaks in Shakespeare quotes, it’s appropriate to invoke Much Ado Nothing and the Hero/Claudio relationship. I don’t know if old Will was satirizing the era’s attitudes about female virginity, but modern actors and audiences can certainly see Claudio as a jerk for rejecting a woman because she had a previous lover. Huxley may have believed in a slippery slope of contraception leading to the demise of motherhood and family, but didn’t realize that his dystopia would most likely have no gender hierarchy.
no subject
It would be a find-and-replace from the sex-mandating culture to a contemporary purity culture. The effect would be very much the same.
Catholic School Girl Lenina would be less interested in sex and being liked for being good at sex, instead very interested in being a good, virgin girl and very interested in being appreciated as fitting into purity-culture requirements.
Bernard Marx wouldn't have to be interested in sex so much as interested in the same thing's he's interested in, now, which include understanding and surmounting the constrictive effects that his culture place on him.
no subject
no subject
Of course, Demolition Man is a satire of "What happens if you drop a Charles Manson expy into the world of Brave New World?"
no subject
Brave New World parodies the world falling into shallowness and distraction, when that was a part of how the world worked the whole way.
Demolition Man is very much a conservative comedian's understanding of liberal and PC culture.
Seed of Bismuth
Re: Seed of Bismuth
re: Bernard
Bernard is by far the most likable character, but it takes a certain amount of individuation on the reader's part to understand that.
The thing that people despise about Bernard is the thing that makes him truly great --- his authenticity and trueness of self. It's raw and limitless.
A typical reader, conditioned by years of pulp drama where the 'bad guys' get their comeuppance will expect Bernard to fall in line as some kind of violent, rebellious 'hero.' (Hero in quotes because it's really the idea of a hero we have all been conditioned to expect). This expectation gets thwarted repeatedly by Bernard, which causes the reader to despise Bernard --- much as the community in the novel despises Bernard, for failing to meet expectations.
Thus both the society in BNW and the reader come to loathe Bernard for being a true individual.
Huxley's cue that society drives Bernard's behavior lies in the fact that his gift (intelligence) combined with his deviation (his stature) and combined with the obviously superficial society has led to Bernard realizing himself as a being apart from the society.
Most readers dislike Bernard's society and believe it's the society's fault, but these same readers turn on Bernard as he fails to meet their own expectations. The point being that this is a universal feature of all societies --- those who are mediocre and near average are accepted and all deviations are met with intolerance. The individual is simply fundamentally incompatible with society.
And before we say Bernard lacks courage, let us remember that even when he was the belle of the ball he still criticized the society. People criticize Bernard because "ah, well, he did it only for his own sense of importance." Yes, he elevated HIMSELF over the community in BNW and over YOUR expectations. Once again, TRUE individualism finds revulsion in response.
Now we can address his pitiful displays of true human emotion. Why are these frowned upon? Note that, of all the men in the novel, it is Bernard who accomplishes the most in exposing hypocrisy in TBNW: he gets the Director fired. He suffers the same fate as the other protagonists. But he does it in a way that is counter to our expectations, of course. That he has personal human failings and allows them to the surface is itself a display of great courage.
Let's remember that one of the great worthies, Hector, before his battle with Achilles, ran terrified of his eventual murderer around Troy several times before finally facing the music. And yet we rob Bernard of this chance to express himself in a way we disapprove of.
Now we can contrast with him the completely uninteresting Helmholtz, and the idiot John.
There is nothing to Helmholtz. That's his problem. Once again, the view of Helmholtz says a lot about the reader. Helmholtz is the perfect picture of privilege --- superficially amazing. But how often is he in the book? Does he offer anything interesting to say, ever? Not really. He is distinguished by his wanting for nothing --- after having already had everything. So any admiration of him is severely misplaced --- he doesn't have better self-control than Bernard or better anything; he's never ever been put to the test like Bernard has.
He lacks the ability to create because has never felt anything real, or more specifically, he is supremely stunted as a true human being. Despite his intellect, he can't create anything of depth because he's never known anything but comfort. What would happen if suddenly, he wasn't able to get any woman he wanted by choice? Would he be so desirous of isolation then? He has never been tested, and accordingly, he is unable to individuate on any meaningful level beyond his own thoughts. So his bravery is merely ignorance of what it truly means to live and risk and lose. This is why he says nonsense about Greenland and harsh weather and why he cannot understand Shakespeare. He's a cartoon.
John's great failing is that he cannot face himself as an individual. Unlike Bernard, John seems very able to stand up to his society --- having had to face social pressure from two cultures rather than one. However, John's response is to create a fantasy land away from himself in fictional literature. This results ultimately in him denying who he truly is and feeling what he truly feels in favor of a fantasy world that ultimately serves as another convenient form of brainwashing.
And because he conditions himself in such a way, based on these fictional stories, he meets more of the reader's heroic expectations. So usually readers are more sympathetic to John, because John 'fits in' with the hero archetype. But his fantasy world is not the real world, and eventually, he chooses his fantasy world over even living in the real world.
The only person who survives with a unique point of view intact and is rewarded for all this is Bernard. Bernard, through his personal merit, struck a blow against BNW, gained celebrity in BNW, then managed to be exiled to what will surely be a paradise for him. Helmholtz the untested idiot gets barren cold of Greenland. John gets death.
Objectively Bernard did everything a hero ought to do, but Huxley plays with the reader's social conditioning to shade the viewpoint.
Re: Bernard
It could even be said that Bernard Marx is, for the conflict at hand (between individual and society in a society that doesn't appreciate balance between the two), something of a Greek-style hero. (Note, I just watched Diamanda Hagan's video defending the movie Alexander.)
The Ancient Greeks preferred their heroes to be far more emotional than our own, wearing their emotions on their sleeves (or rather on masks identifying their intended emotion for the viewers of a play). Compared to our more stoic and dignified heroes (see the reserved, even self-muted expressions of Mad Max to refer to another series I'm discussing at the moment), Bernard would seem weak... if you judge strength by the refusal to show others your own emotions.
And, indeed, he has two very human flaws to make his downfall. He has both pride and a self-hatred derived from the judgment of a society that dislikes his refusal/inability to fit in.
Re: Bernard
John, by refusing to go meet with the crowd, saves Bernard's individuality from threatened annihilation and offers Bernard real consoling. Helmholtz welcomes him back without a hint of real judgment.
Bernard is placed at the center of his conflict: true authenticity and the highs and lows of that existence that are always uncomfortable, or comfortable mediocrity. And what's great about BNW is that it makes the comfortable and average VERY appealing, because in truth, they ARE very appealing.
To me, even viewing him as having a downfall is part of the genius of this book. He really didn't lose or gain much --- fairweather friends, cheap sex. But that feeling of comfort and acceptance is shown to be very powerful, and Bernard is so angry at it being taken away that he lashes out. It's not unlike soma. The way he berates John is like an addict going through withdrawal.
But ultimately, comfort and "happiness for its own sake" are nothing more than drugs keeping us from our true lives.
However, Bernard's continued criticism and -pride- are actually his saving virtues. Because they ensure that he will never succumb to that addiction. "Mend your ways, young man." The main reason people were so angry at Bernard is because of how he talked down to everyone and anyone about the society in which they lived. He bit the hand that fed him when the getting was good.
He even wrote a report to Mustapha Mond that had him angrily amused at Bernard's chutzpah.
Further, let's not forget that Bernard --- despite his behavior --- comes out with two true friends. One friend is, for all we know, the only other individual (however limited) within the society. The other is the most interesting person within the society. And both are his loyal friends.
And Mond even characterizes his punishment as a reward.
I tend to think of this story as a straightforward hero triumphs over evil story. But, the people reading are left to regard it like the society in BNW would regard Shakespeare (or like you say, Greek heroes): "they wouldn't understand it."
They can't process a hero who expresses his emotions. They can't process individuality being identical with pride when viewed through the lens of social conditioning, etc. etc.
These things are hard to process. Huxley, I'm convinced, made sure of it.
Re: Bernard
We'll talk about the end and the fates of Bernard, Helmholtz and the soon-to-be-met John when we get to the end. For now, suffice it to say, they don't and, indeed, can't change the society they're in.
Re: Bernard
But if the real point is that stable community-life is fundamentally incompatible with the individuation process, the only real triumph is for the individual to leave the society or to find an enclave within (or at least on the periphery of) the society that allows true human flourishing. The triumph is essentially rejecting comfort and stability in favor of the highs and lows of being a true, unique person.
Huxley himself seems to suggest this much in Brave New World: Revisited: "Over-population and over-organization have produced the modern metropolis, in which a fully human life of multiple personal relationships has become almost impossible. Therefore, if you wish to avoid the spiritual impoverishment of individuals and whole societies, leave the metropolis and revive the small country community, or alternately humanize the metropolis by creating within its network of mechanical organization the urban equivalents of small country communities, in which individuals can meet and cooperate as complete persons, not as the mere embodiments of specialized functions."
Thus, for Bernard to find a community of others who are "complete persons" and flourish would be the real triumph in this book. Not our socially conditioned way of viewing triumph, which is essentially a brief interlude between points of comfortable stability (i.e. evil society -moment of conflict- and happily ever after new 'good' society with the common denominator of stability between each).