Well There's Nothing More Revolutionary Than Calling for Communism Then Diddling the Maid

Helene Demuth (1820-1890)

 

 

This morning, whilst reading on the subject of famous last words, I discovered that Karl Marx had little time for such death bed theatrics.

 

'Go on, get out!' he apparently barked to his housekeeper, who was pottering about his room in the hope of recording some memorable final statement: 'Last words are for fools trying to compensate for having said nothing of any significance in life!'

 

I have to say, I was shocked - not by Marx's attitude, but by the fact that he - a revolutionary socialist and author of a work calling for the establishment of a classless society - should employ a domestic servant.

 

Worse: it's alleged that his German housekeeper, Helene, [1] was impregnated by Marx and gave birth to an illegitimate son, in 1851, who was discreetly placed with a working-class foster family in London shortly afterwards [2]. 

 

If anything exposes the bourgeois hypocrisy (and the sexism) implicit within Marxism, it's this. As Elaine Benes might sarcastically note: There's nothing more revolutionary than calling for communism, then diddling the maid. [3]   

 

 

Notes

 

[1] The daughter of parents belonging to the peasant class, Helene Demuth began her life as a maid in 1840, aged 20, entering into the Marx household five years later, where she stayed until Karl's death in 1883. Helene died in London in 1890, and was buried in the Marx family grave (and later re-interred in the tomb of Karl Marx at Highgate Cemetery).

 

[2] Some scholars accept that Marx was the father of the child; a view based upon surviving correspondence from the Marx family and their wider circle, as well as the fact that Marx's wife had been on a trip abroad nine months prior to the birth. The child's paternity, however, remains a subject of controversy, and there is no conclusive documentary evidence as such to prove that Marx had been diddling the maid. 

 

[3] In the season 9 episode of Seinfeld entitled 'The Maid' - dir. Andy Ackerman (1998) - Jerry forms a sexual relationship with his maid, Cindy (played by Angela Featherstone). Although he tries to convince Elaine that the arrangement is somewhat sophisticated, the latter is not convinced. Click here to watch the scene on YouTube.  

    

To read an earlier post on the erotic fascination with maids in the pornographic imagination, click here. 

 

 

Stone Me, What a Life! (A Brief Post in Memory of Tony Hancock)

The Lad Himself

Anthony [Aloysius St John] Hancock 

(1924 - 1968)

 

 

On this day in 1968, the English comic actor Tony Hancock committed suicide, aged 44. The perfect way to die [1] and the perfect age to exit this life [2]. So as well as his comedic skills, I admire him for his courage and his timing.

 

Hancock was found dead at his rented flat in Sydney, Australia, besides an empty vodka bottle and a handful of barbiturates. Apparently, he left several suicide notes, in one of which he wrote: Things just seemed to go too wrong too many times.

 

Which is a concise, clear and honest statement; qualities that I think are important in such a document, though I don't mind more philosophically cryptic last words, such as those famously spoken by Socrates to Crito: We owe a cock to Aesclepius [3].

 

What I don't like are outpourings of guilt, regret, bitterness, or recrimination; nor even a desperate last minute attempt at humour. If that's all you have to offer, then best to go in silence. For as Nanette Newman's young Existentialist character Josey might say: Why waste words when you can quietly waste yourself? [4]

 

 

Notes

 

[1] There are several posts on Torpedo the Ark in which I write in praise of suicide as the simplest of pleasures and set out reasons for so doing: click here, for example, or here and here. 

 

[2] Many people I admire died at 44, including D. H. Lawrence, F. Scott Fitzgerald, Robert Louis Stevenson, and Spinoza. It has always seemed to me a good age to take one's leave of this life, although, sadly, I missed my opportunity to do so some years ago. 

     

[3] For my thoughts on the death of Socrates and his famous last words, see the post of 30 October 2015: click here. 

[4] I'm referring here to a character played by Newman in Tony Hancock's first feature film, The Rebel (dir. Robert Day, 1961), who asks the crucial question: Why kill time when you can kill yourself? Click here to watch the scene on YouTube,   

 

 

Musical bonus: Babyshambles, 'Stone Me' - click here. 

      This 2007 track, written by Pete Doherty and Mick Whitnall, was inspired by one of Hancock's favourite phrases; as was the title of the debut album by Doherty's other band, The Libertines - Up the Bracket (Rough Trade, 2002). 

      Doherty also wrote a song called 'Lady Don't Fall Backwards' after the book at the centre of the Hancock's Half Hour episode 'The Missing Page' (S6/E2, 1960), which can be found on his solo album Grace/Wastelands (EMI, 2009). 

      He also references Hancock by name in the lyrics to 'You're My Waterloo', a song on the third studio album by The Libertines, Anthems for Doomed Youth (Virgin EMI, 2015): click here.