Wednesday, September 14, 2011

The Hangman by Maurice Ogden | Sacramento for Democracy #edreform

The Hangman by Maurice Ogden | Sacramento for Democracy:

The Hangman by Maurice Ogden


The Hangman - 1964 Animated Version of Maurice Ogden's Powerful Poem

    You may well remember this poem from your high school days (if you are of a certain age) and it is something to which those in a liberal education environment were exposed. It seems somehow to have been lost in the rush to follow curricula perhaps considered more modern, which is a great shame. The poem in its simplistic power is easy enough for ten year olds to take in the ramifications of its message..

    This marvellous animation, a real blast from the past, is the 1964 animated version of the poem, created by Les Goldman and Paul Julian. Herschel Bernardi is the narrator. The film was a co-winner of the Silver Sail award at the Locarno International Film Festival in 1964.

    The story is quite simple as it the somewhat dated animation techniques (which do give it a real flavor of its time and place however). A hangman who arrives in a small town and begins to execute its citizens one by one. As each citizen is led to the gallows, the rest are afraid to object out of fear that they will be next. Ultimately there is nobody left in the town apart from the Hangman and the poem's narrator. The narrator is then executed by the hangman as there is no one left who will defend him.

    The poem is about about acquiescence to the state when it begins to oppress others. Some though that Ogden was referring to The Holocaust, others yet thought that he was delivering a metaphorical critique of McCarthyism. If he indeed wrote about anything specific it is not necessary to know the absolute specifics as we must interpret the work for our own time. With that in mind, the poem has lost none of its powers.

    "Dead," I whispered. And amiably
    "Murdered," the Hangman corrected me:
    "First the foreigner, then the Jew...
    I did no more than you let me do."


THE HANGMAN

By Maurice Ogden

    Into our town the hangman came,
    smelling of gold and blood and flame.
    He paced our bricks with a different air,
    and built his frame on the courthouse square.

    The scaffold stood by the courthouse side,
    only as wide as the door was wide
    with a frame as tall, or a little more,
    than the capping sill of the courthouse door.

    And we wondered whenever we had the time,
    Who the criminal? What the crime?
    The hangman judged with the yellow twist
    of knotted hemp in his busy fist.

    And innocent though we were with dread,
    we passed those eyes of buckshot lead.
    Till one cried, "Hangman, who is he,
    for whom you raised the gallows-tree?"

    Then a twinkle grew in his buckshot eye
    and he gave a riddle instead of reply.
    "He who serves me best," said he
    "Shall earn the rope on the gallows-tree."

    And he stepped down and laid his hand
    on a man who came from another land.
    And we breathed again, for anothers grief
    at the hangmans hand, was our relief.

    And the gallows frame on the courthouse lawn
    by tomorrow's sun would be struck and gone.
    So we gave him way and no one spoke
    out of respect for his hangmans cloak.

    The next day's sun looked mildly down
    on roof and street in our quiet town;
    and stark and black in the morning air
    the gallows-tree on the courthouse square.

    And the hangman stood at his usual stand
    with the yellow hemp in his busy hand.
    With his buckshot eye and his jaw like a pike,
    and his air so knowing and business-like.

    And we cried, "Hangman, have you not done,
    yesterday with the alien one?"
    Then we fell silent and stood amazed.
    "Oh, not for him was the gallows raised."

    He laughed a laugh as he looked at us,
    "Do you think I've gone to all this fuss,
    To hang one man? That's the thing I do.
    To stretch the rope when the rope is new."

    Above our silence a voice cried "Shame!"
    and into our midst the hangman came;
    to that mans place, "Do you hold," said he,
    "With him that was meat for the gallows-tree?"

    He laid his hand on that one's arm
    and we shrank back in quick alarm.
    We gave him way, and no one spoke,
    out of fear of the hangmans cloak.

    That night we saw with dread surprise
    the hangmans scaffold had grown in size.
    Fed by the blood beneath the chute,
    the gallows-tree had taken root.

    Now as wide, or a little more
    than the steps that led to the courthouse door.
    As tall as the writing, or nearly as tall,
    half way up on the courthouse wall.

    The third he took, we had all heard tell,
    was a usurer..., an infidel.
    And "What" said the hangman, "Have you to do
    with the gallows-bound..., and he a Jew?"

    And we cried out, "Is this one he
    who has served you well and faithfully?"
    The hangman smiled, "It's a clever scheme
    to try the strength of the gallows beam."

    The fourth man's dark accusing song
    had scratched our comfort hard and long.
    "And what concern," he gave us back,
    "Have you ... for the doomed and black?"

    The fifth, the sixth, and we cried again,
    "Hangman, hangman, is this the man?"
    "It's a trick", said he, "that we hangman know
    for easing the trap when the trap springs slow."

    And so we ceased and asked now more
    as the hangman tallied his bloody score.
    And sun by sun, and night by night
    the gallows grew to monstrous height.

    The wings of the scaffold opened wide
    until they covered the square from side to side.
    And the monster cross beam looking down,
    cast its shadow across the town.

    Then through the town the hangman came
    and called through the empy streets...my name.
    I looked at the gallows soaring tall
    and thought ... there's no one left at all

    for hanging ... and so he called to me
    to help take down the gallows-tree.
    And I went out with right good hope
    to the hangmans tree and the hangmans rope.

    He smiled at me as I came down
    to the courthouse square...through the silent town.
    Supple and stretched in his busy hand,
    was the yellow twist of hempen strand.

    He whistled his tune as he tried the trap
    and it sprang down with a ready snap.
    Then with a smile of awful command,
    He laid his hand upon my hand.

    "You tricked me Hangman." I shouted then,
    "That your scaffold was built for other men,
    and I'm no henchman of yours." I cried.
    "You lied to me Hangman, foully lied."

    Then a twinkle grew in his buckshot eye,
    "Lied to you...tricked you?" He said "Not I...
    for I answered straight and told you true.
    The scaffold was raised for none but you."

    "For who has served more faithfully?
    With your coward's hope." said He,
    "And where are the others that might have stood
    side by your side, in the common good?"

    "Dead!" I answered, and amiably
    "Murdered," the Hangman corrected me.
    "First the alien ... then the Jew.
    I did no more than you let me do."

    Beneath the beam that blocked the sky
    none before stood so alone as I.
    The Hangman then strapped me...with no voice there
    to cry "Stay!" ... for me in the empty square.