Complacency and Indifference
To all appearances I am complacent and indifferent.
That is, I appear to be complacent and indifferent.
And, in fact, I am complacent in that I am
indifferent to appearances. My apparent indifference
and myapparent complacency would seem to be
the result of my position in the social world.
I am well-fed. I am well-dressed. I am,
to all appearances, without need. No one would challenge
me that I do not understand the value of my resources,
that I should have undertaken actions that would result
in waste and make me a burden to society.
These outward manifestations, these appearances,
show nothing about my --if I may use the word --
spiritual or my intellectual well-being,
though commonly they are taken to do so.
Our common experience is that spiritual
or intellectual degeneration cannot take place
without outward manifestations. Our common
experience is that beggars on the street or
madmen who rant and tear their clothing
should not be approached except in acts of
defense of society. So, my indifference is
different from the indifference of the beggar or
the madman. My indifference is wedded to complacency,
and complacency is reassuring at all times,
signifying as it does, the stability and
reality of the things of this world.
Thus, you have honored my ticket, which certainly
you should not have had I appeared before you
as a beggar or as a madman.
The irony of the threatening aspect
of complacency is too complicated to
go into here, except to remark that
there is some connection between the threat and
the continuing illusion of stability and
reality, which illusion is so valuable to us all.
I have driven my husband from me by my
complacency and my indifference. The moment of
his departure, which was inevitable, is of
little consequence, except for the drama --which
purports to teach us something. -- Robert Ashley, Improvement (Don Leaves Linda)
Read the full libretto here.
Passage above appears on page 12, lines 371 - 410