Theatre Of Derision

Sadly, post-modern playwright Eugene Ionesco died in Paris last week. Not to worry: the Theater of the Absurd is alive and well at Harvard. An improvisational troupe, which performs every Sunday night in random locations, provides immense entertainment for beleaguered students. In keeping with the principles developed by Ionesco, Beckett, and Gide, the dramatic group refers to itself with a symbolically august title: the Undergraduate Council.

There is a rumor that the members of this theatrical company must actually be elected to their positions-no doubt a witty critique of bourgeois social conventions. The actors sometimes even pretend to be "representatives" of the human struggle against the meaninglessness of life. The audience cannot help but appreciate such divine commentary on the absurdity of the human condition.

In a performance before Spring Break, the council transcended more mundane diversions. The central plot was simple and brilliant: members "voted" over whelmingly to raise the fees that they charge students by a whopping 50 percent. The preposterous idea had been exaggerated to comic proportions, achieving self-referential irony. As if true" representatives" would actually vote themselves a huge tax increase!

And it was almost too unbelievable for its intended effect. Yet, with post-modern sensibility, mere reality was not the object of depiction, but derision. By subverting the most fundamental principles of a democratic legislature, the council provocatively demonstrated the absurdity of "representative democracy." Through their deft drama, the political concept essentially becomes an oxymoron.

In a starring role which stole the show, a mysterious and brooding Harvard senior played the part of Michael P. Beys '94. This recurring character is best known as the former leader of the council's "government."

Beys, with deliciously self-mocking wit, explained that the council must vote itself more money, because that was the will of the students. He cited a curious survey, supposedly conducted long ago ("last year) to confirm his premonitions as vox populi.

After asking himself the intriguing question of whether to increase the budget, Beys offered the audience an amusingly pithy proclamation: "I say yes, and I think the students say yes."

Of course, we should e wary of taking the actor's lines out of context. so we let the character speak for himself: "If we vote this increase, we're doing what the students want." Clearly, this Beys figure mocks the very concept of the" man of the people," while employing impeccably faculty logic to reach ill-conceived conclusions.

For pure amusement, we should rationally entertain the logic of the Beys argument.

Step 1: many students would like more social activities. Step 2: the council can provide more social activities. Step 3: the council would need more money to provide more social activities. Step 4. most students want to give more money to the council. step 5: the council must increase the mandatory fee on student's term bills. Q.E.D.

To underline the absurdity of the whole affair, the drama concluded with a few quick resolutions to allocate students' money, including $400 for a felt banner (!) to be displayed at all council ceremonies. Although certainly a fitting ending, the council might consider hiring a live rhinoceros for its next production. (Cost should not be a concern.)

Brad Edward White's column appears on alternate Wednesdays.