Monty Python and Philosophy (12 page)

Quite an un-British speech. This man clearly has no sense of humor. We see, now, why
your
soul is in such peril. You have been
very naughty indeed. You
shamelessly
watched
Monty Python’s Life of Brian
just like one of those young monks, and you
knew
it was evil, not because it was funny, but because it unfolds according to the best principles of the comedic art. There is something very twisted about its being so
good
. So long as humor remains a mere ethnic joke of the working class told over too many beers, it can be tolerated, but raised to a standard of educated taste, even to the level of philosophy, it is more threatening to authorities, religious or political, in Jorge’s view. Such humor undermines the efforts of our serious “betters” to shepherd us toward order—unless of course (and this is what Jorge misses) those “betters” are Roman or British. If our “betters” are these psychotic Christians of the Falwell type, who cannot ever laugh at themselves, then yes, the comedy becomes a palpable threat as the humor becomes more intelligent. In the case of
Monty Python’s Life of Brian
, the
better
the film is at depicting the times of Christ, the more diabolical is the effect to pathetic followers of the dead God.
Monty Python’s Life of Brian
is, by the estimate of all the Pythons, their best film.
⁴⁰
Yet the British do not worry (much).
⁴¹
How can this be sac-religious unless one has already taken the immortal soul too seriously?

Now let’s consider
your
soul. You apparently have two souls. The soul you
know
about is human, mortal (as far as you can tell), and inhabits this world, this life only. This is the soul which “animates” your physical existence, brings you to life, moves your body, fuels your consciousness. The immortal soul, if there is one, is a sort of sojourner in this world, it doesn’t much like your body (and if you look in the mirror I’m sure you’ll see the reasons), and frankly can’t wait to get the hell out of Dodge (or Hampstead, in fact, especially Hampstead). If these two souls are really the same, it isn’t obvious. So which soul is in peril? Must you lose one to save the other?

There was a morose philosopher named Blaise Pascal (1623-1662) who, in spite of his dreary mood, can help you. We have seen the extent of your sin. You laughed. You may think this not your worst sin, but if so, you just aren’t listening. I almost think you must be British. Anyway, Pascal thought too much,
way
too much, and left behind his fragmentary putterings which were gathered together and published by still gloomier admirers, and
that
takes some doing.
⁴²
One of these fragments received the number “233,” and contains what is called “Pascal’s Wager.” I won’t ruin your dinner with Pascal’s words, but I’ll adapt his wager to your current dilemma, according my own less moribund, er, umm . . . “idiom Sir?” Yes, that’s it, idiom; thank you Patsy.

So you
know
you have a finite soul. You also know that infinite things exist, like numbers. But here is a curiosity: “Infinity” is by definition a number, yet no one knows
what
it is, or much about it—for instance, whether it is odd or even. Yet, every number
must
be either odd or even. Don’t get your knickers in a twist. You don’t
need
to know, but you see it’s possible for you to know
that
something
exists
without knowing
what
it is. Your immortal soul is analogous. It may exist even if you don’t know what it is (and of course, the same for God, but never mind Him). And if you have an immortal soul, you have already wagered it: you laughed, not once but repeatedly during
Monty Python’s Life of Brian
. I firmly suspect you saw it more than once; you probably have the video somewhere, don’t you? You have wagered. Now what do you stand to lose and gain? If you have an immortal soul and the dead God isn’t
quite
dead, isn’t an ex-God, is only stunned or resting, you lose all. But if the dead God never was God, and you do have an immortal soul, then you don’t really know if you’ve gained or lost, since that really depends on whether God finds Monty Python funny—in short, if God is British, you’re okay—your laughter even counts as worship of such a God, you are among the elect, and will receive a fine German car in paradise (since it is paradise, it won’t be a
British
car). What I mean by “British” is that God is of the sort who not only can take a joke, but positively
laugh at Himself. You have wagered your immortal soul, if you have one, on the chance that God is British. Does that make you worried or what?

Now you may
have
no immortal soul (I mean others, yes, but not
you
), and in that case the bet is really off. Might as well enjoy yourself—where was the Castle Anthrax exactly? But let’s suppose you have one, so it’s down to God being British. We need some way to decide. The evidence is a bit ambiguous. I mean, the sinking of the Spanish Armada and Trafalgar seem to suggest God
may
be British. But it’s hard to be sure. We only know He isn’t Spanish or French. God might still be German, but here Nietzsche helps, since the “madman” was unable to find him there. If God is German, He is hiding or afraid of us or has emigrated (in which case He might still be British by naturalization). Since God was drinking Two-Buck-Chuck with me, He isn’t Italian. If God is Russian, everyone is screwed, starting with the Russians. No point in worrying over that. We might go on by this process of elimination that philosophers call “induction” until the salmon goes bad, but let’s use a handier method. Philosophers call it “deduction,” which is induction for lazy, impatient people.

1. If God is not British, you are screwed (since you laughed at Brian).

2. If God is British, you’re saved.

3. God is either British or not British

This last proposition (3) is where the cheating occurs. It’s called the Law of Excluded Middle, which is a fancy name designed to distract you from it’s real nature, which is The Law of I Shall Finish this Thought by Tea Time. If (1) is true, indulge your mortal soul for whatever time it has left. I know you watched
Monty Python’s Life of Brian
and you laughed—this hasn’t actually been revealed to me, I’m doing induction. You’re still reading this. Only three possibilities present themselves: (a) you watched the movie and laughed (like a Roman soldier); (b) you are
going
to watch the movie and laugh (which amounts to the same as (a)); or (c) you have nefarious intentions toward me and everyone like me. In case you haven’t noticed, if a’s and b’s are screwed for
watching Monty Python’s Life of Brian
, imagine how it will be for
me
. So if you have evil intentions toward my lot, have a little faith in your cheerless
God and let Him take care of me and my ilk. Your “God” has already fed Graham Chapman to Lucifer and the rest of us can’t be so far behind. Be patient and have the courage of your convictions. So I
know
the rest of you are A’s or B’s, which means either God is British or it’s too late for you.

I realize you want some modicum of hope that God is not only
not
French, but actually
is
British. Here is the hope. The strongest competitor for God’s nationality is, well, American. If ever a bunch of undeserving people was touched by divine favor, it’s the Americans—even luck seems eliminated as a competitor. Now, if God is an American, you’re a goner. And frankly, most of the evidence, with the exception of Viet Nam and Iraq, points to an American God. But consider: isn’t it right that
only
a British God could have thought up America? America is to Britain what Disneyworld is to, well, America. It’s an impossible gift, beyond human imagination, to be allowed to be British and to see what your entire culture would look like if it were a cartoon. It is true that America could never be as funny to the British as they are to themselves, but it runs a fair second. Yes, God is British and when the Britons had everything else God could give them, and became bored with it, the Supernatural Make-a-Wish Foundation for declining empires waved a wand. Poof. America. And here we are: watching Monty Python, not exactly getting it, but laughing at it just as cartoon characters would laugh at us if they could see us watching them on the telly. And if you must know, that is
why
the penguin was on top of it. The penguin was an American spy, not Burmese. It also explains the bomb.

You can get off your knees now. Brian’s saving work is done. You’ve been naughty, but God is not an American and your mortal soul is healthy. Your immortal soul, if you have one, has my assurance that God is not angry, and that your enemies will all die at some point. I could be wrong of course. Now go away, or I shall taunt you a second time.
⁴³

REBECCA HOUSEL

We’re Knights of the Round Table
We dance whene’er we’re able.
We do routines and chorus scenes
With footwork impeccable.
We dine well here in Camelot
We eat ham and jam and Spam a lot.

—Knights,
Monty Python and the Holy Grail

T
his chapter examines the historical and philosophical context and significance of Arthurian legend and Grail romances to uncover the serious roots of this very funny film,
Monty Python and the Holy Grail
. Aristotle (384-322 B.C.) said, “The roots of education are bitter, but the fruit is sweet.” Humor is always rooted in truth, which is exactly why it’s so amusing. Looking at the intriguing, yet serious, undertones of
Monty Python and the Holy Grail
will enrich any audience experience. Now let’s move on before this book’s editors decide to sack the author or—worse—forty specially-trained, Ecuadorian mountain llamas decide to take over.

Monty Python and the Holy Grail
is the top-rated comedic film in Great Britain according to the British Press Association, and the film ranks highly with American audiences, too. In fact, the popularity of the film in America has spilled over into other entertainment venues, notably the musical based on the film,
Spamalot
, directed by Mike Nichols and written by Eric Idle. As they would later do with their controversial film
Monty Python’s Life of Brian
, the Pythons chose a subject iconic in Western popular culture.

King Arthur and his Knights of the Round Table stand tall as chivalric heroes in popular culture. The legend arose during a time in Europe when there were four distinct and powerful mythological strands: the classical Roman, classical Greek, Germanic, and Celtic strands. Arthurian and Grail romances developed during 1150 to 1250 A.D., with the help of Chretien de Troyes, Wolfram von Eschenbach, and Sir Thomas Malory. Each of these authors crafted different renditions of the quest for the Holy Grail over the course of approximately one hundred years. Like all mythology, these romances reflected their time by assimilating various cultural notions from the four mythological strands. The cultural tapestry of Arthurian and Grail romances is woven from a patriarchal warrior society and what Joseph Campbell, famous for his scholarly work on world cultures and religions, called an “earthoriented, mother-goddess society,” with an overlay of Christianity.
⁴⁴
The romances represent the idea of the individual and the individual path, an idea derived from the four mythological strands. They also combine the Christian notion of community with an emphasis on rules and laws. The result is a powerful and patriarchal cultural stew.

The Pythons, however, changed the recipe. They wrote and produced
Monty Python and the Holy Grail
in the early 1970s in the midst of a growing movement for women’s liberation. In 1968 Britain legalized abortion, followed by the United States’ legalization of abortion in 1973 and France’s two years later. Britain’s Sex
Discrimination Act of 1975 also gave women greater equality. Yet in that same year the movement faced resistance in the United States, for example in the Hyde Amendment of 1976 (which cut federal funding for abortions) and in increased criticism of foreign aid for programs tolerant of abortion. Still, women were gaining political power, with nineteen women elected to the U.S. Congress in 1975 and 604 elected to state legislatures in the same year. Much as the Arthurian legends reflect the cultural and political currents of their time,
Monty Python and the Holy Grail
reflects these developments.

But there is a twist. Arthurian legend has traditionally been used to maintain and endorse patriarchal ideas and attitudes. From the days of King Edward of Britain in 1286 to the modern Boy Scout movement (its founder, Britain’s Sir Robert Baden-Powell, even inscribed Arthurian legend as historic fact in his Boy Scout manual’s
Knight’s Code
) the legend has trumpeted the importance of male gender in society. With Monty Python, however, the connective tissue between the world politics of the women’s movement and Arthurian legend in the film is flipped. The Pythons use Arthurian legend to speak to the
absurdity
of patriarchy and its reverberations in the twentieth century.

Some of these reverberations are philosophical. The Pythons are infamous for their use of philosophy and, in particular, for their attention to analytic philosophy.
Monty Python and the Holy Grail
has a strong thread of analytic philosophy—a philosophical program that analyzes individual statements. It endorses a kind of atomism—the idea that an idea can be understood best by breaking down the whole to its separate parts, and examining the relationships among the parts. Atomism opposes the philosophical idea of holism, according to which the whole is primary and greater than the sum of its parts. Joseph Campbell finds holism at the core of mythic stories about the hero. Such stories feature a theme of transcendence through which the hero journeys from duality to an underlying singularity and unity with the universe.
⁴⁵
Parmenides (around 515 B.C.-450 B.C.) perhaps set the stage for this kind of quest, famously writing that “All is One. Nor is it divisible, wherefore it is wholly continuous.”