Whenever there are events involving injustice and wildness, we often say, it is ‘jungle raaj’ [the law of the jungle]. The jungle is abused as we often abuse a man who has done an indecent job calling him a dog. A crow, when crows, is a harbinger of a cherished guest, but a crow, nowadays is mentioned more as one, who is killed and hung aloft for a lesson to other crows.
When we compare a man’s mischief, we go to monkeys and cats, and when we refer to his power, we catch the lion. However, when men eat human flesh, and turn indiscriminate, we invoke wolves. A man who is dunce is likened to an ass, and if something is going very fast, it is said to be talking to the winds. How is power of a man measured if not as horsepower. And most of all, when we have to reject something as absurd, a bull comes to our rescue, along with his shit. We call it ‘bull-shit’. The jungle is never far away when we men have to say something, and it has to be exemplified from the animal world.
In fact, we go to nature to authenticate our experience. In the same way as we quote from great authors and thinkers and even from Vedas. If some man has eaten up some other person, there is no way to say it more effectively than saying that he has eaten into him like ‘deemak’ [termiotes]. If some misfortune strikes a man, we compare it with lightning.
If we have to compare a man’s steadfastness, we invoke mountains. If a man starts going to a place of worship after committing sins, we are reminded of a cat going for Hajj after eating nine hundred mice. And if we want to tell man he should have a great patience, Farid the great poet says: a man should have the patience of a tree. Men who are full of wisdom, are humble just as a branch bearing a fruit bends. As pure as the Ganges, as high as the Himalayas, I wonder if there is any human emotion which can be delivered authentically without referring to nature.
So, it is the nature which we often call the ‘jungle raaj’. The idea of ‘jungle raaj’ conveys the idea of lack of justice in the human world. It is interesting to see why man thinks that his world is more just, as compared to the world of nature. Here is a glimpse of the life of the jungle, which human beings often denounce. The big fish eat the small fish. The powerful kill the less powerful. This is what happens in the jungle and even in oceans and the same thing happens in the world of men too. But the point of departure between the two world arrives soon, and I wonder if we can really accuse the world of nature as a land of lawlessness.
The Order of Nature
The order that we find in nature is far more powerful and more established than in the human world. Birds, animals are born with a default understanding of their role. Just imagine, they have no schools. It is only the human being who needs training in schools. And we need worship places to teach us how to pray and remain connected to the creator, whereas animals are always in a state of prayer. A Punjabi poet, Prof. Puran Singh finds the buffaloes and calves [animals on their fours] always in a state of prostration. Animals and birds have no liquor shops, they do not have ‘bars’, they do not have rave parties, they do not molest women. And most of everything, have you come across any murder in the forest?
In the forest, which we call the ‘jungle raaj’, there are killings. The big animals eat away the smaller animals. In fact, most of the birds are non-vegetarian. They eat up smaller insects. But nobody raises any cry. Because it is their way of life. There are no murders as I said, no police stations, no violation of rights. There are no courts to ensure justice. Only we human beings need courts of justice because the human world thrives on injustice. Murders take place in the human world only. The jungle has no underworld. They have no armies. No weapons dump. We have never seen them fighting pitched battles as men have done in the past over land for oil or resources.
Nature is a repository of sense and wisdom. Jungle is far more composed and balanced in its attitude towards life. They do not attack humans. Only humans have assaulted and molested the vegetation and the trees.
In fact, for the human world, ‘jungle raaj’ refers to the lack of justice and fairness, and a world which is given to crime. The fact is that the world of the jungle is the real world of nature where the law of the creator, the original laws are in operation. Man, with his greed and weapons, has created a world of crime which he equates with the ‘jungle raaj’. In my opinion, we denigrate the jungle in order to establish our superiority, whereas the facts prove it otherwise.
The final truth about the law of the jungle and the law of man’s land is a comparison between a sense of live and let live, and a passion for greed and exploitation and ultimate elimination of the other. The jungle ‘raaj’ is original and superior, whereas man’s laws are artificial and inferior, if not altogether infernal.
Dr. Jernail Singh Anand, with an opus of 190 plus books, is Laureate of the Seneca, Charter of Morava, Franz Kafka and Maxim Gorky awards. His name adorns the Poets’ Rock in Serbia. Anand’s work embodies a rare fusion of creativity, intellect, and moral vision. He is President of the International Academy of Ethics.
Inside the meadow there was a stand of trees and inside there was the cool shade and whimsical winds sometimes made a sound through the branches. I stood there and rested, halfway through my sojourn exploring nature. There were times outside of there that blue butterflies were thriving and many grasshoppers bloomed, plus some spiders.
Up above in the summers a blue sky often, but, if it turned and became overcast and that atmospheric energy entered the air, that sort of ‘before the storms’ feeling, well that was just as good as I wasn’t that far from the paths that led out and it was also an interesting change to feel that charge in the air.
And in the four seasons, that area was a dutiful and true friend, for it at its base never wavered. I think I realize now that the truth of the truth of the truth of the real and actual truth is that that area became along the way a special and loved and loving destination, a marriage of sorts between a poet and the lands where the walking would help the poet go a symbolic and literal step more towards becoming a mystic.
Spirit message. Intuition. Renewal of the mind, body, and spirit. self-healing. Kindness. Clarity. A structure out of regular psychological sets and more centred in the universal or cosmic. Society was literally and figuratively so far away in those moments, times with feet grounded on the earth, and say, the summer fields colourful or the spring universe beginning to bloom, but also the autumnal grounds with leaves or after, the wild winter, its snow resting upon the world’s reeds, branches, and pathways. Yes, it was a fine place to be and learn, to get ideas for poems, stories, and pictures. And to naturally expand consciousness.
La Belle et la Bête – Opera Parallèle (Photo: Stefan Cohen)
La Belle et la Bête
Opera Parallèle
Zellerbach Hall
Berkeley, California
Beast Against Beauty
A review by Christopher Bernard
Over a recent weekend in March, Cal Performances hosted an original production by the local company Opera Parallèle, combining movie and stage, of Philip Glass’s uniquely beautiful conversion of Jean Cocteau’s classic film La Belle et la Bête into a cinematic opera.
The original “Beauty and the Beast” was written by the eighteenth-century French novelist Gabrielle-Suzanne Barbot de Villeneuve and appeared in her book La Jeune Américaine, et les Contes marins. The story, set in a romanticized High Renaissance France of François Premier and Diane de Poitiers, was later revised and abridged by Jeanne-Marie Leprince de Beaumont in the version best known down the generations. The story’s magnetic appeal has never weakened; in the age of toxic masculinity, it has never been, in some ways, more timely.
To say nothing of the aggression inherent in all masculine sexuality: Has there ever been a sensitive young man in love with a beautiful woman who did not, at some time, darkly suspect that, in reality, he was ugly, disgusting, unworthy of either loving or being loved—a beast indeed? Has there ever been a woman who wasn’t afraid at some point of bringing out the beast in the man who claimed he loved her? And, the claims in the fairy tale notwithstanding, how often has it occurred, not that the beast turned into Prince Charming, but that Prince Charming turned into the Beast?
Cocteau’s film, a masterpiece of French surrealism from the middle of the last century, contains some of cinema’s most famous sequences: the line of chandeliers held by disembodied arms protruding from a corridor’s halls, the moving eyes in the faces carved into a mantel above a blazing chimney fire, a pearl necklace turning into a writhing snake in the hands of a wicked sister, the dissolves from beast to human and from human to beast, and Belle’s gliding down a night-time hallway with windblown curtains without apparently stirring a foot, to name only a few.
The original script, itself rich with poetry yet containing enough realism to empower the magic, and Georges Auric’s film score work with these magical images to create a world of consummate fantasy speaking the curious truths poetry is uniquely capable of expressing. Philip Glass’s decision, half a century after the film’s release, to strip out and replace not only the soundtrack and sound design but all the dialogue as well into an immense musical fabric proved to be, not only as provocative as any surrealist gesture, but brilliantly successful and entirely aligned with the soul of the work. Unlike the notorious mustache on the Mona Lisa, Glass’s gambit enhances and even completes the work in a way one can only feel the original artists (with, of course, the possible exception of the silenced M. Auric) would have completely approved. It doesn’t displace the original but provides a perfectly viable alternative.
When I heard about Opera Parallèle’s production, I imagined one of three possibilities: a straight screening of a silent version of the film, with sound provided by live singers and instrumentalists, much like what I was lucky to experience on my first exposure to Glass’s setting. Or it might be an entirely live staging, with a few discreet bows to the film. Or it might be the most interesting but most perilous of the three: a fusion of the film with live action. But if they tried the latter, how would they solve the problem at the heart of any such attempt: how integrate the two without their blundering regularly and clumsily into each other? Because if staging and film weren’t merged into a seamless whole, it could be, indeed would be fatal: the genius of the film would require equal genius, above all in judgment, taste, and tact, in the staging, otherwise it would be in danger of overbalancing, then irretrievably sinking, the performance.
If this third choice were attempted, surely (I thought) the director would realize that film and staging would need to alternate; presenting them both at the same time would have to be generally avoided, for obvious reasons: the audience would not know which one to watch, the staging or the screen (or if two screens were used, which screen?). Staging theater is not like staging a dance or a concert, where multiple strands of movement or sound can be processed by the human mind without what is aptly called brain freeze.
One of the main problems was that some in the audience might resent any attempt to deflect their attention from the brilliance of Cocteau’s film. Concentrating the audience’s focus is, of course, one of any stage director’s primary responsibilities; diffusing attention must be avoided except for brief periods and for reasons that are perfectly clear to the audience as well as emotionally telling, whether dramatic or comic. And deliberately dividing their attention can court disaster.
Alas, this production did not solve the problem described, mostly because it did not seem to realize there was a problem to solve in the first place. The film and the staging stubbornly refused to combine; at times, they even stood in hostile and irreconcilable opposition: the concept for the piece was often at war with the piece’s aesthetic, with frustrating consequences.
Almost all of Cocteau’s film was screened on a darkened wall placed mid-stage as part of the handsomely designed and lit set (kudos to the unnamed set designer). At apparently random moments, live singers, in full costume, walked onstage and, distractingly, more or less imitated what appeared on film. In a few instances the film was paused and the action of the story was given entirely by live singers on stage. These few scenes were the most effective in the performance; effective enough for one to wish there had been more.
To add to the problem of divided attention, there were also a (gratefully) few attempts to screen a second film, which again imitated the action in the Cocteau. The concluding scene of the production abandons Cocteau’s film entirely, replacing it with a shot-by-shot imitation of the film’s famous concluding sequence, this time of the singers we had seen live onstage. If this was meant to bring all of the elements of the performance together in a transcendent conclusion, it was only partly successful.
It is always dangerous to fiddle with a masterpiece once; to fiddle with it twice can be fatal.
Fortunately, the musical elements of the evening came off, for the most part, very well: Hadleigh Adams was in excellent form in multiple roles, including the Beast, as was Chen Kang as Belle. Sophie Delphis did fine double duty as both of the evil sisters, and Aurelien Mangwa was strong-voiced in three well-differentiated roles. Nicole Paiement conducted the small but powerful ensemble, perhaps pressing too hard at times on the volume. The wonderful costumes were designed by Natalie Barshow, and not to be forgotten, given the opulence of the era in which the story takes place, were the hair and makeup designs by Y. Sharon Peng.
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Christopher Bernard is an award-winning novelist and poet. His most recent book is the poetry collection The Beauty of Matter.
Regular contributor Bill Tope has launched a new literary magazine, Topiary, which is now accepting submissions! Please send short stories to billtopiary1950@gmail.com.
In March we will have a presence at the Association of Writing Programs conference in Baltimore which will include a free public offsite reading at Urban Reads on Friday, March 6th at 6 pm. All are welcome to attend!
So far the lineup for our reading, the Audible Browsing Experience, includes Elwin Cotman, Katrina Byrd, Terry Tierney, Terena Bell, Shakespeare Okuni, and our editor, Cristina Deptula. If there’s time, an open mic will follow.
Our Urban Reads bookstore in Baltimore
Our next issue, Mid-March 2026, will come out Sunday March 22nd.
Yucheng Tao announces the winners of his poetry competition, Steve Schwei and Mark DuCharme. We’ve invited both winners to submit their poetry to Synchronized Chaos for everyone to read!
Now, for March’s first issue! This issue, Fingering the Spines, pays homage to our annual in-person reading, the Audible Browsing Experience. It’s a visual metaphor for looking through various titles in a global bookstore or library.
Genevieve Guevara rings in the dynamic energy of the Fire Horse for Chinese New Year.
Jesus Rafael Marcano celebrates the beauty of France, likening the nation to butterflies. Timothee Bordenave honors the beauty and majesty of Christian faith, as shown through Notre Dame. Su Yun’s abstract work reflects a meditative, spiritual sensibility. Soumen Roy describes a physical and mental journey towards spiritual inspiration.
Abdumajidova Zuhroxon Ibrohimjon qizi explores themes of hardship and endurance, destiny, faith, patriotism, and loyalty in Shuhrat’s classic Uzbek novel Oltin Zanglamas. Iroda Ibragimova explores themes of resilience and human dignity through oppression in Shukrullo’s novel Buried Without a Shroud.Bakhtiyorova Zakro Farkhod qizi speaks to the role of the short story in Uzbek literature. Ro’zimatova Madinaxon Sherzod qizi analyzes themes of strength, weakness and humanity in Abdulla Qahhor’s story “Ming bir jon.” Anvarova Mohira Sanjarbek qizi contributes a heartfelt poem from the perspective of Gulchehra, a character in O’lmas Umarbekov’s “Being Human is Hard.”
Azimov Mirsaid draws on Ray Bradbury and traditional Uzbek crafts and hospitality to illustrate the value of human warmth and imperfection. Dr. Jernail Singh Anand urges humanity to look into the words of our past and present writers and philosophers for wisdom in this age of great technological advancement. Dr. Jernail Singh Anand also expresses hope for the continuance of human creativity in the age of artificial intelligence. Daniela Chourio-Soto renders all-too-human morning sleepiness with lively humor. Eva Petropoulou Lianou explores the feelings and inspirations of emerging Greek painter Vivian Daouti.
Author Victoria Chukwuemeka discusses her creative journey towards exploring psychology and the subconscious, becoming deeper and more straightforward in her words. Kassandra Aguilera’s work mourns her speaker’s incompleteness, probing whether we need observers to fully realize ourselves. Ananya S. Guha reflects on distance, separation, and reunion, how roads can both bring us apart and together.
Emeniano Somoza poetically compares creative writing and glassblowing: arts where creators shape, rather than force, their materials. Poet Su Yun collects a set of poems from children at the East-West Public School in Bangalore on the theme of “the power of the pen vs the sword.” Taylor Dibbert’s short piece is almost anti-poetry, suggesting without communicating a metaphor.
Stephen Jarrell Williams’ poetry speaks to the risks and joys of openness to emotion and experience. Komilova Parizod reminds us to make the most of our lives and appreciate the joy around us. Priyanka Neogi urges us to act with wisdom and restraint. Boymirzayeva Dilrabo highlights the importance of motivation and discipline in reaching one’s goals.
Axmedova Gulchiroyxon expresses her tender love and concern for her mother. Nurmurodova Masrura Xurshedovna honors the patient, dedicated, behind-the-scenes love of her father. Gulsanam Sherzod qizi Suyarova explicates the value of friendship and how to be a good friend. Aminova Feruza Oktamjon kizi celebrates the beauty and innocence of young love. Qozoqboyeva Husnida yearns with devotion for her soulmate’s arrival. Mesfakus Salahin falls into a reverie about a fanciful love that exists between his imagination and his memory. Prasanna Kumar Dalai smiles through a delicate and tender love. Joeb expresses his hopes for personal and global love and peace. Lan Xin celebrates transcendent union with all others and the universe, with the world as her homeland, in her fanciful dinner piece. Husanxon Odilov laments a love which he acknowledges will never return. Nicholas Gunther reflects on a high school lost love or friendship through a casual ghazal. Bill Tope and Doug Hawley present an unusual relationship arrangement that seems to make several older people happy. Masharipova Yorqinoy Ravshanbek qizi celebrates the tenderness of a mother’s love. Brian Barbeito’s gentle childlike piece creates a surreal atmosphere rich in memory and care. Orzigul Sharobiddinova Ibragimova versifies her love and longing for her Uzbek homeland.
Zarifaxon Nozimjon Odilova qizi highlights the historical contributions of Uzbek statesman and humanist leader Zahriddin Muhammad Babur. Toshkentboyeva Xumora outlines the contributions of Amir Temur to modern Central Asian statecraft. Poet Lan Xin highlights the wisdom and compassion of Chinese Dongba cultural leader Wan Yilong. Abdusaidova Jasmina explicates themes of spirituality, heritage, and love in Alisher Navoiy’s writing. Abduxalilova Shoxsanamxon Azizbek qizi celebrates the benefits of reading culture for society.
Olimova Marjona Ubaydullayevna celebrates the literary heritage of Zulfiya and her themes of patriotism, women’s dignity, and compassion. Munisa Yo’ldosheva highlights how Zulfiya’s life influenced her works and her contributions to supporting emerging authors. Nozigul Baxshilloyeva discusses emotional and spiritual themes within Zulfiya’s work and how they affect Uzbek readers. Sultonova Shahlo Baxtiyor qizi highlights the literary and cultural influence of Zulfiya’s poetry. Jurayeva Barchinoy does the same, while also highlighting her commitments to education and women’s rights. Nematullayeva Mukhlisa Sherali kizi relates the value of Zulfiya’s work through a narrative story. Gayratova Dilnavo highlights the enduring legacy of Zulfiya’s work, especially what it means for many Uzbek women.
Loki Nounou’s piece dramatizes a woman stripped of her individuality in a toxic marriage, becoming only a vessel to hold others’ dreams. Abigail George probes the maternal and domestic as both sacred and violent, an origin and a wound, along with critiques of colonialism and the power of self-kindness. Manik Chakraborty calls for a natural, spiritual feminine awakening. Asadullo Habibullayev warns of the dangers and social injustices young women can face in Uzbekistan, even when educated, and calls for the younger generation to respect the wisdom of their elders. Eva Petropoulou Lianou urges respect for women and for the roles women play in society, including motherhood. Maxmarajabova Durdona Ismat qizi celebrates the love and care of human mothers and the value of Mother Earth.
Zamira Moldiyeva Bahodirovna analyzes what the nature motifs in Alexander Feinberg’s work reveal about his thoughts on memory and identity. Noah Berlatsky draws on trees to illustrate our shared human heritage, how we connect to each other and hold each other up. Dilafruz Muhammadjonova presents a natural and cultural tour of Uzbekistan’s Andijan province. Suyunova Fotima Oybekovna reminds us of how crucial it is to preserve the environment. O’gabek Mardiyev outlines ways to improve the efficiency of solar power generation. Shavkatova Mohinabonu Oybek qizi urges improvements in Uzbek public transit to encourage tourism as well as benefit ecosystems. Sultonaliyeva Go’zaloy Ilhomjon qizi analyzes the social, cultural, ecological and economic aspects of tourism in Central Asia. Turgunov Jonpolat discusses the ways in which media framing of climate issues affects how people address the problem. Surayyo Nosirova highlights the need for more consistent communication from journalists to the public about climate change in Uzbekistan.
The works of primary school children in China, collected by Su Yun, reflect moments of happiness and ordinary summer fun in nature. Alan Patrick Traynor’s Irish-inspired piece becomes incantatory, mystical, inhabiting littoral and transitional zones at the ocean’s edge. Tea Russo’s spiderweb poem seeks both expansive transcendence and the peace of oblivion, melding into various aspects of nature. Turkan Ergor dreams of the permanence of the ocean’s waves. Eleanor Hill reflects on the calm strength and dignity of a whale, unbothered while creating waves and blowing bubbles. Ri Winters turns to the ocean and its kelp forests as metaphor for the deep, isolating, yet restful morass of depression.
Brian Barbeito sends up a preview of his book Of Love and Mourning,highlighting the original content and the memorials to beloved pets who have passed. Filmmaker Federico Wardal celebrates a film award for a very humane documentary about veterinary care that saved the life of a racehorse. Jerrice J. Baptiste’s piece, accompanied by gentle, colorful artwork, expresses a graceful and natural surrender to death. Sayani Mukherjee’s piece sits between devotion and restlessness, calling the sky a neighbor yet screaming at stars. Mykyta Ryzhykh crafts a fevered love elegy at the edge of war, eros, and annihilation.
Patrick Sweeney sends up a set of index cards from a memory archive. Mark Young’s altered geographies trace the outlines of innocence, memory, and rupture. John Grey’s urban character and landscape pieces show dry, unsentimental grace.
Image c/o Jacques Fleury
Duane Vorhees’ poetry meditates on time’s circularity, embracing contradictions and the past, present, and future. Ibrahim Honjo reflects that one day his home and everything he knows will fade into memory. Christopher Bernard continues exploring hope, ruin, and creative resilience in the second installment of his prose poem “Senor Despair.”
Maja Milojkovic speaks to the implacable ticking of conscience. Mahbub Alam laments the selfishness and wickedness of humanity. James Tian dramatizes the pain of being underestimated, dismissed, and misunderstood. Mark Lipman calls for greater taxes on the wealthy and for economic egalitarianism. Jacques Fleury hoists his commentary on the fragility of modern democracy on the scaffolding of an extended construction metaphor.
Orinboyeva Zarina discusses how to help children psychologically and emotionally navigate their parents’ divorce. Botiriva Odinaxon elevates the teaching profession and calls for professional development and competence in those who educate young children. Nishonboyeva Shahnoza speaks to her wisdom and dedication towards her goal of becoming a preschool teacher.
Kadirova Feruzakhan Abdiyaminova discusses interactive games that could be useful in science education. Oroqova Nargiza outlines the rise of allergies in children and speculates on the causes. Umidjon Hasamov highlights the potential for artificial intelligence in medical diagnostics. Yunusova Sarvigul Siroj qizi highlights the importance of early screening for gastrointestinal cancer. Rajapova Muqaddas Umidbek qizi highlights the structure and function of the circulatory system.
Shohnazarov Shohjaxon highlights the impact of inflation on a nation’s economy and strategies for managing it. Mamadaliyev Kamronbek highlights the need for cybersecurity technology and cautions about cyberattacks as a weapon of war.
Dr. Jernail S. Anand calls out poets and academics whose lofty ideas don’t connect to present-day reality. While we are all capable of flights of fancy, we hope that this issue is grounded in our world and our humanity.
