"The European Lesson" at Black Box Theater

Lost in translation, or:
Ugly Americans? Compared to what?

JIM RUTTER

In his seminal Word and Object, the great 20th Century American philosopher W.V.O. Quine put forth his argument for the indeterminacy of translation. Simply put, Quine argued that a linguist (or anthropologist) who tries to determine the exact meaning of words in an unknown language will ultimately have to appeal to the context in which native speakers use those words. But there’s a Catch-22: In order to determine the context, the researcher will have to first determine the meaning of many other words and phrases (not to mention grammar).

Ultimately, it’s not that the words and phrases possess no meaning; it’s just that foreign or non-native speakers can never determine them with exact certainty.

Or as the erstwhile— though academically unpedigreed— American anthropologist (Jeb Kreager) says about the Slovakians he’s trying to understand in Jo Strømgren’s provocative and amusing The European Lesson: “Are we witnessing resignation or drunkenness, clairvoyance or mental retardation?” From words and gestures, “It’s entirely impossible to tell what is going on.”

However, in Strømgren’s play, Kreager magnifies the problem. He not only wants to determine the meaning of a foreign society’s words and phrases, but to recover the innocence and sincerity of an authentic European culture. His goal: “to deliver to my tribe the wisdom of other tribes,” in order to rescue “American lives, currently lost in a malaise of Tupperware and Wonder Bras.”

Building on arrogance

For a real philosopher like Quine, it’s a pipe dream; but in Strømgren’s play, it’s a bit of a nightmare as well, as The European Lesson builds upon the arrogance of the attempt itself to attack that ne plus ultra of cultural hegemony: the Ugly American. Yet Kreager’s “new style of anthropology” gives him an advantage that Quine never had in his years at Harvard. Hidden behind the stage curtain, Kreager has “brought the field into the classroom” in the form of a family of rundown, poorly dressed Slovakian villagers (Aaron Cromie, Sarah Sanford, Catherine Slusar, and John Zak).

Throughout, Strømgren’s direction infuses mesmerizing imagery; as Kreager pulls back the curtain, we see the muted grey hues of the disheveled Slovakian family slouched on their couch like their American counterparts (sans TV, which comes later). Using a clicker to start and stop the action (and, when that fails, moving them around by force), Kreager shows these foreigners engaged in a minor family drama concerning adultery and an unplanned pregnancy, while simultaneously and subliminally asking us to examine their plight from the American perspective. “What would this mean to us?” he asks. The implication: What should it mean to them?

Obliging him, the Slovakians overact, injecting both nonsensical words and “silly” superstitions to display the heightened emotions that Americans expect of foreigners. And in Strømgren’s play, “The European Lesson” becomes a family drama that Kreager narrates, explains and, unlike a seasoned anthropologist, interferes with and affects.

‘They even use our colors!’

The discipline of anthropology takes its share of knocks, but Ugly American attitudes are the prime target of Strømgren’s irony. Pointing out the Slovak flag, Kreager remarks, “Red, white, and blue— they even use our colors!” Like the U.S. in post-cold war affairs, he runs this circus of foreigners like a ringmaster. And when he can no longer micro-manage the citizens of a tiny nation, his attitude becomes, “Fuck the whole continent.”

But Strømgren muddles his attack on the Ugly American, through misplaced dance interludes and false starts (like the whole TV episode) and gets his digs on the cheap as well.

To be sure, when it comes to understanding international affairs—from the conflict in Georgia to the alleged use of underage girls by the Chinese gymnastic team—we’re all ugly Americans, applying our analysis via a lens of cultural prejudices and built-in biases. But find me the enlightened country whose citizens don’t commit a similar offense? When Vladimir Putin claims that the U.S. cooked up the Georgia conflict to help McCain win the election, it may be because he’s an aggrandizing thug looking to deflect responsibility for his aggression. But when half of Russia agrees with him?

Why ‘Friends’ succeeds in Europe

The European Lesson is utterly cerebral, at times utterly brilliant, and engages and plays on our fascination and anticipation through unusual characters caught in a familiar plot— which is why the TV sitcom “Friends” is just as successful in (translation in) Europe as in America. We want to know how these other humans work out a commonly shared problem. In the best of cases, we want to learn from their solutions. The language barrier, it turns out, has never been a human barrier.

As Strømgren’s show makes very clear, it’s high time American foreign policy displayed more flexibility in understanding as well. But Strømgren—a Norwegian too focused on attacking the alleged singularity of Americans—makes it quite clear that we’re not the only ones who arrogantly generalize from the words and actions of a bad sample of foreigners.