More on the Passing of Lenny Bruce

I know what you're probably thinking: Lenny Bruce has been dead for fifty years (this August 3 will mark that anniversary). Why such a headline, as if his passing is still news? Why two posts about a comedian fewer and fewer people remember, and who, when he was still relevant, was thorn in the Church's side?

The answer to the first question is contained in the preceding post: I'm not writing of the Leonard Albert Schneider of history, who indeed died in 1966. I'm writing of the Lenny Bruce of faith, who's memory and cause lived for decades, but has now been killed by the heirs of the very counter-culture who once used his name as a synonym for freedom of speech. The radical activists of today line up on the same side of the issues as Bruce did, but instead of having blunt conversations over uncomfortable topics, they want to shut off conversation that violates their emotional safe space. They are guilty of the very heresy Bruce preached against: making certain words taboo, thus giving them the unnecessary power to wound.

As for his ongoing popularity, or lack there of, Lenny Bruce is one of those artists who's influence is greater than his personal success. Few people know who Gram Parsons was, but without him you probably wouldn't have had country rock. The same can be said of The MC 5 and The New York Dolls, who were forerunners of punk. As he predicted, Orson Welles has been revered in death, but wasn't respected in Hollywood during his life. It took at least a decade for critics to come around to recognizing Citizen Kane (1941) as a game changing masterpiece, and he spent most of the rest of his career fighting for artistic control of his films, struggling to find work and financing both inside and outside the system. But without him there's no film noir, and probably not as much non-linear story telling in movies. 

But the Lenny Bruce of faith is about more than just making the world safe for Sarah Silverman. He's one of those cultural figures who came to prominence in the '60's, didn't survive the decade, but who's shadow was cast long and tall over the culture in general for decades. He has influenced our attitudes toward free speech and artistic expression whether we know it or not. He was commenting on race and war when it was unpopular to do so, and on gay rights, albeit somewhat cryptically, before it was on the general public's radar. So he is still important, maybe more important today than before because the cause of free speech he suffered for is in danger again. 

I ended the last post wondering what Lenny Bruce would think if he visited a college campus today - as he once mused about a fictional visit to St. Patrick's Cathedral by Christ and Moses. Unlike the Biblical visitors, he might be happy with what he sees. In many ways his side did win: it's hard to deny that the majority of college professors are the spiritual descendants of the Lenny Bruce of faith. The academy, as well as the entertainment industry, is safe to champion the cause of minorities, be they ethnic, cultural or sexual. I'm sure Bruce would approve of the inclusion and tolerance for those on the cultural margins presently found in most universities. 

But now the tables are turned. Those who were once the "mad ones" of Kerouac's On the Road are now controlling the leavers of the institutional machine that free speech activist Mario Savio said needed to be laid upon and jammed. Those who were sitting in in 1968 educated the next generation of the establishment. Through them old orthodoxies have given way to new, and are defended with more rigger than what came before. If Lenny Bruce came back what would he think of the fact that words he used to spin into a stream of consciousness poem of irony and satire are now forbidden? What would he think that any reference to race or gender or sexual orientation that doesn't comply with strict speech codes can get the speaker put in front of human rights commissions? What would he think that stand up comics, most of whom draw their material from what they observe, are more and more abandoning the college circuit because their observations, no matter how innocuous, are sometimes condemned as offensive? 

The answer to this question depends on if the Lenny Bruce of faith is the same as the Leonard Schneider of history. I do believe speech codes and safe spaces violates the spirit of the Lenny Bruce of faith. I don't know enough about the man to say what the flesh and blood Leonard Schneider would say. Many who did know him and defended him, people as diverse as George Carlin, Steve Allen and Dorothy Kilgallen, are gone. Maybe Mort Sahl could answer the question. Would Lenny Bruce be content that his side won, so let the losers roast? Is this really all about power, and since the power is in the hands of progressives they can limit speech as they see fit? Even though I disagree with many things he said, particularly about the Catholic Church, I'd hate to think the flesh and blood man who suffered so much for the cause of free speech only wanted it for himself, and his comrades. 

As for his swipes at the Church, I'm a bit philosophical. When asked once if he was familiar with Bruce's Christ and Moses at St. Pat's routine, Archbishop Sheen, one of the targets in the one man sketch, claimed not to know who Lenny Bruce was, let alone heard the bit. His shots against the Church, and even his own religious tradition, weren't necessarily new, it's just the first time anyone even remotely main stream expressed them publicly. Fulton Sheen and Cardinal Spellman, another object of Bruce's scorn, weren't harmed, and probably were unaware that they were being ridiculed. St. Patrick's is still standing on 5th Avenue, between 50th and 51st streets. The Catholic Church goes on. As I wrote before, there is truth to the routine that should serve as an examination of conscience for Catholics, and even if he was being unjust, we should be unafraid of words: the Church has suffered worse in her history. 

I believe the most difficult commandment that Jesus gave us to follow is the call to love our enemies. I don't think this command requires us to be passive doormats, though. We should answer thoughtfully, and if we can, wittily, and always with charity. But we need the opportunity to answer back. My worry is that the ability to speak freely is being suppressed, ironically, in the name of inclusiveness and tolerance. This is the death knell of a free society, and I know this contravenes the tenets that the Lenny Bruce of faith promoted. I don't condemn, I don't come to bury his memory. I come to lament the death of a rhetorical enemy, knowing that his passing hurts all of us. It's more than about the passing of a man in time, or his memory from the collective consciousness: in this case it's about the death of a powerful idea, and all of us being able to freely express ours.