A Jester’s Guide to Creative See[k]ing across Disciplines s Diane Rosen For many centuries and in many cultures, jesters recited tales of heroic exploits, but they did more than simply recount past events—they amused, cajoled, and spun tales that transported listeners to the edge of mysterious, unmapped territories. Through the transformative power of play and the imagination, they reworked what was already understood and created from it new realities that transcended the established order. The author maintains that such imaginative play is vital to creativity in any medium and is fundamental for optimal human development. She explores possibilities for cultivating creativity through the playful, paradoxical stance of the jester—a serendipitous and purposeful, strange and familiar, disrup- tive and productive figure. Her discussion, grounded in a visual-arts practice that leverages uncertainty and randomness, considers the role of play in light of its wider implications for knowledge and creativity. Keywords: creativity; imagina- tion; jester; play and creativity Prologue I began this inquiry because I was curious about the jester as a ludic char- acter—as a jokester and as an entertaining narrator of adventure tales. The word jester, after all, comes from the Old French geste—a narrative of exploits, action, and romance—and from the Latin for deeds and achievements, gesta. What I discovered is that the jester not only portrays an icon of play and subversive humor but of powerful, creative imagination as well. More than mere clowns or storytellers, these complex, multidimensional figures were profoundly clever, provocative, and—according to King Lear—“oft prophetic” game changers. The jester per- sona has played an essential role as an agent for change throughout history and across cultures. Just as his acerbic humor spurred political change within the court, the jester’s masterful sense of play is a central force of creative change in the larger world. His antics and waggish retorts are more than amusing; they can be revelatory. By drawing listeners into an uncanny traveler’s space that no 310 American Journal of Play, volume 4, number 3. © The Strong Contact Diane Rosen at [email protected] A Jester’s Guide to Creative See[k]ing across Disciplines 311 longer involves departure and does not yet include arrival, putting everything at a distance from recognizable places, jesters disoriented, dislocated, and trans- ported kings and commoners alike to the boundaries of the familiar. Where these neatly marked borders dissolve, we discover the roots of our own creativity in the serendipities of disorder, uncertainty, and accident. For this exploration of the creative process, let us imagine a similar paradoxical space with the jester serving as metaphorical guide to things both familiar and strange, things both controlled and playfully improvisatory, things both fixed and uncertain, and things both destructive and brimming with possibilities for constructing new realities. Political Jester: The Subversive Outsider The jester and other lords of mischief are ubiquitous in legends and lore around the world. The personification of a provocateur—Latin provocare, meaning challenge, from pro (forth) plus vocare (to call)—they stand at or wholly outside the margin of any organized system while challenging those within to see things differently. In European traditions, their earliest antecedents were probably the comic actors of ancient Rome. Frequently in trouble with imperial magistrates or church officials who disapproved of their outspokenness, many jesters took to the road in search of greater freedom. Successive waves of such wandering comics may have laid the foundations for medieval jesterdom.1 By the Middle Ages, the jester had become a familiar figure as a comic entertainer whose madness or imbecility, real or feigned, made him a source of amusement. Much as depicted even today, the jester wore multicolored garb and a quirky three-pointed hood representing the ears and tail of an ass. This droll outward appearance, however, belied a careful and penetrating wit. Where freedom of speech was not considered a universal right, the seemingly nonsen- sical utterances of a “fool” might easily be dismissed, enabling jesters to speak frankly on controversial issues in a way those with greater status—and more to lose—did not dare. Note that “jester” and “fool” are synonymous and can be used interchangeably. Although I primarily use jester in this article, I retain the word fool where it appears in quotes and for specific references such as the Fool card in a tarot deck. During the Renaissance, jesters enjoyed official status as entertainers, advis- ers, and critics; most royal courts and aristocratic households employed licensed jesters. Historian Jacques Barzun notes that the institution of the king’s fool 312 A M ERICAN JOURNAL OF PLAY s WINTER 2012 was “a political device based on sound psychology, as well as ancient religious belief. The traditional fool . is like a child, innocent, therefore truthful and sometimes inspired. His sallies are unexpected and amusing. This makeup, native or assumed, is essential to the profession that the fool exercised for centuries at the side of kings.”2 Whereas a natural fool implied being innately dimwitted or mad, licensed fools had the court’s permission to speak freely, even to abuse or ridicule the most exalted of their patrons. Thus, both were excused for their behavior, the first because he couldn’t help it and the second by decree. Court jesters functioned, in this sense, as traditional political humorists. With no vested interest in any region, estate, or church, they existed outside the hierarchal court system, which meant their counsel was more likely unbiased and trustworthy. It was their job to keep the king grounded by mocking his political decisions and life at court in general, not unlike today’s political satirists do for those in positions of power. Symbolic Jester: Play and Creative Power Little is known about the exact origins of tarot imagery, but precedents appear in symbols from sources as diverse as folklore, mythology, ancient religious traditions, and the medieval courts of Italy and France, where tarot first became popular for gaming in the mid-fifteenth century.3 Portraying archetypes of the collective unconscious, tarot cards had long been used for spiritual purposes to deepen insight and divine the future, but the rich symbology of these images enhances even their entirely secular use in games. Having four suits like con- ventional playing cards, the tarot deck adds a twenty-one-card trump suit plus a card known as the Fool. Just as the natural or licensed fool was excused from the consequences of his shenanigans, playing this card can excuse a player from either following suit or playing a trump card on any given trick. The Fool card is, in fact, sometimes called the Excuse. As such, most tarot decks originally made for game playing do not assign a number to this card. There are two exceptions: sometimes the Fool represents zero (before the first) or twenty-two (the last) trump card. Because his unique role in the game is independent of both suit cards and trump cards, the Fool stands completely apart, belonging to neither category and having no number in a set sequence. Poised between positive and negative, resting in the exact middle of the number system, zero perfectly signifies the fool. He can become anything in the A Jester’s Guide to Creative See[k]ing across Disciplines 313 sense of the “joker is wild,” which may be a remnant of the jester’s actual lack of a fixed position at court. Like the air or wind of his etymology—Latin follis means “bellows, bag of wind”—the fool moves around constantly and belongs to no single place. The words “fool” and “foolish,” therefore, also imply that which contains air or breath, i.e. life energy itself. Thus, in various traditions, the fool stands for primal concepts that include absolute being, eternity, the essential self, Tao, Prana, the beginning of new life cycles, and the originating creative power. Fool’s Journey as Creative Process Like all true symbols, tarot images generate an abundance of meanings, many of which have compelling resonance for creativity. One in par- ticular, the fool’s journey, is an apt metaphor for the creative process itself. Symbolizing new beginnings as well as the playing out of what was begun, the fool’s journey may encompass mental, physical, or spiritual dimen- sions, but it is always marked by wonder. It corresponds to any creative path undertaken with childlike innocence, exuberance, and playful spontaneity. Open to the unexpected, travelers in this guise wander freely beyond known coordinates, overturn the status quo, and build new knowledge by means other than reason. Galvanized by curiosity amidst the uncertainties of being on the road, jesters—like their close kin, tricksters “are the lords of in-between . the spirit of the doorway leading out, and of the crossroad at the edge of town. In short, trickster is a boundary-crosser. We constantly distinguish right and wrong, sacred and profane, male and female, young and old, living and dead—and in every case trickster will cross the line and confuse the distinction. Trickster is the creative idiot, the wise fool . the mythic embodiment of ambiguity and ambivalence, doubleness and duplicity, contradiction and paradox.”4 Adapting this notion of a “spirit of the doorway”—doubling and redou- bling as entrance and exit, past and future—creativity theorist and clinical professor of psychiatry Albert Rothenberg coined the term Janusian process to describe creative cognition, defined as actively conceiving opposites or antitheses as if simultaneously coexisting and named for Janus, the ancient Roman god of portals, doorways, and passageways who was a patron of beginnings and endings and whose two faces look simultaneously forward and backward.