Stańczyk and the Paradox of the Sad Clown

🇵🇱 Jan Matejko - Stańczyk at a dance in the court of Queen Bona after the loss of Smolensk (1862)

Since some time ago, I have been immersed in contemplating a pictorial work by the master Jan Matejko, Stanczyk. Although I often select paintings and reflect on them in my writings, I do not claim to be an art analyst. However, I would harbor the desire to call myself that someday. What I often think and believe I am is a jester.

This painting deeply impacts me. Stanczyk, as you can see, is sitting with his back to a party that seems to be happening behind him. Despite his role as a jester, whose task is to entertain and bring joy to others, he himself is unable to find happiness or cheer up. Why is Stanczyk able to bring joy to others but unable to find it within himself?

According to various analyses I found on the internet, through YouTube and several blogs, Stanczyk seems to be affected by the capture of the city of Smolensk by the Russian Empire. Jan Matejko, an extraordinarily intelligent Pole, like Stanczyk, painted this picture that could well be a self-portrait, showing how much the capture of the city of Smolensk affects Stanczyk while the Polish elite seems indifferent and celebrates. It is important to note that the date indicated in the painting is 1539, although historically the events occurred at another time. However, I am not sure if this is intentional since Jan Matejko is a meticulous and insightful painter, specialized in the representation of historical scenes.

I have often felt the same way, that is, unable to cheer myself up, saying many funny things without intending to make others laugh, but causing many people I have met throughout my life to laugh not only at me but with me. In general, I don't mind being laughed at. I really enjoy making people laugh, but I enjoy laughing with people or making people laugh with me even more. And why not? I also enjoy laughing at people. But above all, I enjoy laughing while being alone, something that has become quite difficult for me throughout my life.

However, even though I can make others laugh, I often cannot achieve that same ability to bring joy to other people within myself because I cannot live in the present. As you can see in the painting, Stanczyk is completely lost in his thoughts. The carpet under his feet is pushed aside, indicating that he dropped into the chair and stretched his legs. You can see how there is a crumpled paper on the desk and how his instrument is thrown as if he dropped it when he threw himself into the chair. The news was probably devastating.

But how do you make people see that they should care about a specific problem or fact if those same people are very focused on escaping from reality in other ways? How do you help other people focus on reality when your job as a jester is to make others laugh, whether it's at you or with you? Mainly at you... it's difficult to make others laugh with you when you can't laugh at yourself.

This is the paradox of the sad clown, which you have probably heard time and time again. But if not, let me tell you a little more about it and share some personal anecdotes because I believe that learning to laugh at oneself and not taking oneself too seriously is very, very important...

When I was a child, I once accompanied my mother on one of her trips to Peñón Blanco, a town in Coahuila. My mother was teaching some kind of class, I don't remember the reason, but I went with her. I always enjoyed accompanying my mother because she knew places and, in general, I really liked spending time with her. We had finished my mother's workday on that occasion at a party for one of the teachers or students of her class or course. It was a birthday celebration. I remember that on that day, while there were activities for children, during the piñata game, I, trying to make a good impression and make friends, had very little success.

I remember participating, laughing, talking to other children, but it was always difficult for other people to accept me. I suppose my name has a lot to do with it, but also my heavy and alienating attitude. I don't remember how old I was, but I was still a child. In one of those attempts to make a good impression, I wanted to participate when the event's entertainer called for it. I don't remember if it was another clown like me or an adult addressing the others to hit the piñata again. There was another one of those classic moments when the party entertainer asked the children to bring items from their parents to him in exchange for a prize. Unfortunately, I fell to the ground, and although I didn't hurt myself, I remember that everyone started laughing at me. By that time, I had already overcome my foot problem, I couldn't straighten them, always measuring my left foot, and it seemed like I walked crookedly. At that time, I was wearing these slippery orthopedic shoes, and unfortunately, that was what caused me to slip and provide a moment of joy for many people, especially children.

At that time, being as young as I was, I couldn't bear the humiliation and ran out of the event crying because it was very difficult to try to please people who didn't identify with me or didn't want anything to do with me. I was always the "terrorist," "the Muslim," "the foreigner," despite how calm I am, being Mexican, primarily speaking Spanish, and being an atheist.

I couldn't handle the shame, and I went outside to cry, thinking that I would never ever come back. I tried to go into the forest, which was literally a few steps away from the house where the party was taking place. My mother came after me, quite angry because she thought I wanted to make a fool of myself. She shouted at me, "Where are you going, Abdo? Why did you do that?" And I cried, unable to do anything but hide my gaze. Besides the shame, I had the good fortune of encountering a wolf quite close by, maybe it was a very large dog, but I got scared and ran in the opposite direction. My mother tried to calm me down when she saw that I was upset and said, "I thought you did it on purpose," because before the fall, I had been trying to "make a good impression" like Stanczyk, like a jester!

It is worth mentioning that it was difficult for me to return to the party because of the shame, but oh surprise, all the children wanted to play with me. Even though I had tears in my eyes, my embarrassment and misfortune automatically made me a lighthearted person and a child who ended up playing a lot of soccer with the others and even sharing sweets. The truth is, on that day, although it was a tough experience, I had a great time because I learned to take myself less seriously. That doesn't mean that nowadays, while I can take myself less seriously and have a talent for making others laugh in moments of high stress and anxiety, I often find myself with a lost gaze, remembering negative things or reliving traumatic situations that are already in the past.

Why can't I make myself laugh sometimes? I remember another situation when I was living in Belgium, where I had an extremely severe anxiety attack and ended up calming myself down by pulling my hair, thinking that if I styled my hair in a certain way, I would look great, and the act of pulling out my hair wouldn't be noticeable. I kept cutting and cutting until my hair was completely uneven. When my roommates and friends saw me, they burst into laughter, except for my dear friend Umur, who exclaimed, "AAAA!" He said, "Tomorrow, after work, I'll take you to a salon to get a proper haircut. You look like a punk lesbian." I know that back then, it was common to see girls with the same haircut I tried to give myself, which was similar to what is known as a mohawk, and Umur was referring to the movie "The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo." The next day, I went to work at the shared workspace Winkelhaak in Antwerp, where I lived, and caused quite a laugh. Many people asked me what had happened to me, and that day I was on fire, cracking jokes. I said I had cancer but had been cured, that I had lost a bet and let a blind friend cut my hair, that I had watched some match and ended up pulling out my hair out of anger, that someone in training had cut my hair but I didn't want to disrespect them and let them cut my hair without complaining, but hey, it was free! None of it was true, but I had a great time lying and joking that day.

In truth, on that day, I forgot about the hardship I had experienced at the moment I decided to cut my hair. While I don't remember taking a photo, I did forget about the difficult moments I was going through living in another country, away from my home, from my own country, for the first time, and having already experienced many traumatic situations that are not the focus right now, but trust me, I had been through many traumatizing things up to that point. I can only say that there were many breakups, many betrayals, much hatred, and many goodbyes... of course, at the end of the day, it all ended up in a Kapsalon or Turkish salon with Umur, where I got my hair cut, and it turned out great. Since then, I haven't had my hair that long again.

The point I want to make is that every time we have those moments of silence and sadness where all we can do is gaze into emptiness and silently suffer like Stanczyk, detached from what is actually happening, those are moments of introspection that, according to Jacques Lacan, are moments when we are connecting with our own identity. By thinking about these traumatic or sad situations, we are reliving the mirror stage. Who am I? What am I doing? Why can't I show anyone how much I'm suffering right now? Jacques Lacan said that we humans are made to suffer, and our minds are made to stop the suffering. It is no surprise that Stanczyk, unable to project his suffering because his job is to make others laugh, finds himself like me and probably like you, sitting, gazing into emptiness, without making any expression, silently suffering, while others can't stop laughing and enjoying the misery in less painful ways, and sometimes amidst many laughter, perhaps empty, perhaps not.