Nothing succeeds like success

Aesop's tale of which I was reminded is well known. An eccentric magician enjoyed travelling incognito from place to place. Once in a remote sparsely populated area, after a long day's travel, he came upon an inn and sought shelter for the night and hot food. He was shabbily dressed and, the innkeeper concluded, would not be an adornment for the inn. He was thus advised that there were no vacancies, all tables and rooms were taken. Unperturbed the magician retired to a secluded nearby spot; a whisk of his wand, a muttered incantation, and his shabby travel-worn clothes were swiftly transformed into resplendent robes and finery. Once again he appeared at the door of the inn. His dress and demeanour exuded affluence and authority. The innkeeper was proud to invite him to a place at the high table. Food was served but the magician did not partake of it. Instead he dipped, by turn, his gloves, socks, coat and shirtsleeves and other articles of dress into each dish, solicitously urging them to eat. The innkeeper was perplexed. Not without trepidation he asked at length if the food was not up to standard. No, replied the magician in feigned surprise, he could tell from the aroma that the food was excellent but he assumed that it was meant for his clothes and not for himself as only a short while earlier, in different attire, he had been denied food and even entry into the inn.

There may be more than one moral to this fable, which also underscores a particular aspect of human nature, the tendency among many to genuflect before any semblance of authority and fame. As Dr. Kissinger once observed: "The nice thing about being a celebrity is that when you bore people, they think it's their fault". Indeed the proximity of power and greatness can be heady and may even provide a vicarious sense of achievement.

Tap here to add The Daily Star as a trusted source

But coming back to my friend's anecdote. Some years back he was a delegate at a Regional FAO Ministerial Meeting. The Indian Minister, leading his country's delegation, addressed the conference, as did Ministers and Heads of Delegation of other countries. He was articulate, his speech focused and telling. It contained an apposite quote from "Nobel Laureate Amartya Sen" that reinforced his thesis; few scholars have written on food and famine-related issues with such a feel and insight as Prof. Sen. As is usual in such gatherings, a number of other Ministers and also delegates went up to him, after he had concluded, to extend congratulations.

One delegate, after felicitating the Minister, sought permission -- which was promptly forthcoming -- to pose two questions. The first question; referring to the quote from "Nobel Laureate Amartya Sen", the delegate wondered if the quote in the speech had been from Bertrand Russell or Lester Pearson, would the Minister have prefixed the words Nobel Laureate before their names. The Minister's eyes twinkled. He responded with the hint of a smile: "I had asked myself the same question". The second question; Mother Teresa was awarded the Nobel in 1979 and the Bharat Ratna -- India's highest civilian award, given to the likes of Pandit Nehru and Ghaffar Khan -- the following year. Amartya Sen won the Nobel in 1998 and received the Bharat Ratna in 1999. Was the Bharat Ratna, in both cases, awarded to these distinguished individuals for any outstanding work or achievements after winning the Nobel or were they honoured for achievements of a lifetime, in which case, should not the Bharat Ratna have preceded the Nobel? The Minister's smile broadened and the twinkle in his eyes became pronounced as he replied in Hindi: "Bhai kew ye sawal puchte ho. Is ke jawab tho tumhe ache tara se malum hai. Ham sab tho eki jagey se hai na". (Old chap, why do you persist in questions the answers to which you know very well. We are from the same region after all).

Nothing succeeds like success. Honours and awards may not add substantively to an individual's achievements or contribution to human welfare but these are seldom unwelcome. Most assuredly also, recognition can enhance a person's capacity for future contributions. It is the rare individual of Sartre's individuality, eminence or even eccentricity who can decline the Nobel with the dismissive words: "It is not the same thing if I sign Jean-Paul Sartre or if I sign Jean-Paul Sartre, Nobel Prize winner. A writer must refuse to allow himself to be transformed into an institution, even if it takes place in the most honourable form". The line of demarcation that distinguishes between appearance and achievement, shadow and substance, innate value and functional use can be confusing; thick or thin, blurred or imaginary -- perhaps more patently so in the realm of the arts.

Paul Gauguin was a pioneer among Post-Impressionist painters. He painted and sold his pictures for a living, and lived and died in poverty. At a conservative estimate, the price of an authentic Gauguin today would far exceed, after allowing for inflation, whatever the artist earned in his entire lifetime through the sale of his paintings. What is there in a Gauguin that is so apparent to art lovers and critics today but which was not discernible to connoisseurs of the artist's own time?

The Mona Lisa is without question the most famous and recognisable painting in the world. In 1962, for insurance purposes it was valued at $100,000.000. If by some feat of legerdemain -- courtesy of today's version of Aesop's magician -- it was transported to some art and antiquarian shop in a remote city -- and a passable facsimile surreptitiously put in its place at the Louvre -- it is fair to assume that it would be taken for a copy and not the Da Vinci original by most people. In such circumstances how much would even an art lover be prepared to pay for it? Would its possession afford, whether in terms of functional use or aesthetic pleasure or even pride of possession, the same measure of satisfaction as would, for instance, the ownership of a sleek BMW?

In November of 1954, as part of his eightieth birthday celebrations, a portrait of Sir Winston Churchill, by a respected artist Graham Sutherland, was unveiled at a special session of Parliament. Churchill, himself an amateur painter of talent, was appalled when he saw the work; he felt it made him look half-witted. Lady Churchill, no philistine she, disliked it even more. Aneurin Bevan, an icon of the left and Churchill's bete noire of many years, thought it was "a beautiful work". The painting was removed from public gaze, placed in hiding behind a boiler in a cellar, until in 1955 Lady Churchill "smashed it to the floor and tossed it in the incinerator". A decidedly bizarre and grotesque end for a painting valued at $200,000.

Speaking through a character in one of his short stories, Somerset Maugham once asserted with absolute conviction : "Art is the only thing that matters. In comparison with art, wealth and rank and power are not worth a straw.....We (i.e. artists in general and as a class) give the world significance. You (i.e. others) only are our raw material". There may not be too many arguments on this from connoisseurs of the arts or aesthetes. In the minds of many others though it could beg the question: "What exactly is it that constitutes art"?