đ¨đ| SPOILER ALERT: I will be discussing the end of the TV show Itâs a Sin so donât read on if itâs in your plans to watch it and you hope to do so, unspoiltâŚ
Pink Narcissus (1971, dir. James Bidgood)
Hello,
In the finale of Russel T. Daviesâ wonderful Itâs a Sin, a once elfin and doe-eyed Ritchie, now spectral and stricken with AIDS, asks his mother what âpeopleâ - the neighbours and his aunt Cath - know. When she brusquely responds that it is none of their business, Ritchie muses:
I donât want to be a secret. Boys die, in London, and they say itâs cancer or pneumonia, and they donât say what it really is⌠Itâs a lie and I donât want that. Do you know why? âŚI had so much fun! I had all those boys. I had hundreds of them and do you know what? I can remember every single one of them⌠Some boyâs hair or his lips, the way he laughed at a joke, his bedroom, the stairs, his photographs, his face as he comes, seeing him across a club six years later and thinking âAh! Thatâs him! âŚand heâs with somebody and he looks happyâ and I think, âah thatâs niceâ âŚâCause they were great. Some of them were bastards, but they were all great. Thatâs what people will forget - that it was so much fun. (S1E5; 34:00mins)
In a sense, Ritchieâs sentiment is not hard to relate to. As an anthropologist, I feel well placed to explain: sex is fun; moar sex is moar fun; especially if youâre a boy; especially with other boys⌠In another sense, however, is much harder to grasp as it swims counter to much of what we are asked to think about disease - both this disease in particular and the thing in general - and the risks of developing it.
Ritchie does not blame his condition on anything other than his lifestyle and choices (as a progressive, hoping to vilify âstigmaâ or âhomophobiaâ, might like him to), but neither does he express any remorse or regret over them (as a social conservative, looking to blame hyper-promiscuity or degenerate practices, might demand he do). Quite on the contrary. Instead, Ritchie foregrounds the intense meaning that these choices bore for him. As a result of them, he was able to form dozens of connections, however fleeting, with boys whose memories he now cherishes (âthey were greatâ, he says, âall greatâ) and with whom he shared an existence of heightened sexual freedom and passion - as a tragic consequence of which, he contracted HIV and developed AIDS. He does not go quite as far as saying that it was worth it, but neither does he say that he would do anything differently. Ultimately, though obviously saddened, he seems at peace with the life that he led, and passes with few regrets.
Ritchie Tozer
To me, Ritchieâs speech emphasises a truth whose triviality is exceeded only by its moral import and modern-day neglect: that disease, any disease, is only ever experienced in the context of a particular life, and its impact (the one that extends far beyond the remit of biological or physiological fact) can only ever be properly evaluated in that context, for that person1. Ritchieâs AIDS is tragic - unquestionably so - but would he have been better off with Public Health, as it existed at the time, doing what it could to prevent him from making the choices and leading the intensely meaningful, unregrettable life that led to him contracting it? This is likely a question-without-answer (not least because its complexities likely extend far beyond what any counterfactual ratiocination could manage), but the fact that the answer is not a self-evident âyesâ suggests that we should exercise much greater caution than our institutions currently allow, including public health, in making and imposing value judgements on others about the ways that any given thing matters.
Lives and experiences - including of âobjectively-badâ seeming things like disease or death2 - are plural and our ways of thinking about them should come to reflect that.
Iâm not wholly a relativist - I donât, for example, really believe that a diagnosis of AIDS could ever be anything other than tragic. My point, however, is that how this tragedy is experienced and reasoned with depends on the particularities of a personâs life, and to thus resist the thought that its tragedy self-evidently implies some ethico-political claim like âthe State should do all that it can to prevent this horrible, tragic disease from being spreadâ.
I'm wondering if Ritchie would still say no regrets today, armed with all the knowledge -- prevention, management, etc. Also wondering what motivation states would have to "solve" health crises if they didn't assume dissatisfaction.
To say all diseases are to each their own is a convoluted way of saying 'how you sow, so you reap', no? You're making the same value judgment that you're seeking to do away with.
"...disease, any disease, is only ever experienced in the context of a particular life, and its impact can only ever be properly evaluated in that context, for that person." đ
I'm wondering if Ritchie would still say no regrets today, armed with all the knowledge -- prevention, management, etc. Also wondering what motivation states would have to "solve" health crises if they didn't assume dissatisfaction.
To say all diseases are to each their own is a convoluted way of saying 'how you sow, so you reap', no? You're making the same value judgment that you're seeking to do away with.
"...disease, any disease, is only ever experienced in the context of a particular life, and its impact can only ever be properly evaluated in that context, for that person." đ