Behold Man without God

 

Canadian artist William Kurelek suffered severe depression throughout life—ameliorated, in later years, perhaps cured, by embracing Catholicism. 

This was due to childhood abuse by his father.

The experience influences much of his work.

This is a detail from his 1957 painting “Behold Man without God,” done at about the time of his conversion. The figure at the top left is recognizable as his father. His father appears again at the bottom right.

Together, they are a portrait of childhood abuse in the real world. Like most great artists, Kurelek is an astute psychologist.

First, the form of abuse that is featured most prominently in visual terms is verbal, not physical—at the bottom right. He is scourged by his father’s tongue. This is far worse than physical abuse. And worse still, it is not simply criticism or insult: it is bait and switch. A reward is dangled in front of him, here a loaf of bread, but one he will never receive. This is the standard technique of the true abuser, false promises and misdirection. This is worst of all, because it corrodes the sense of what is real and not real, true or untrue, right or wrong.

This produces the sense of disorientation and meaninglessness that is the core experience we call depression.

Kurelek is also shown here pulling his father seated. He is carrying him emotionally. This is the general experience of the family of a narcissist, even when the narcissist himself is mild mannered or favours them: the narcissist will lean on them emotionally. If the narcissist has a bad feeling, it is always the child or spouse’s responsibility to do something about it. The narcissist is emotionally weak, unable to walk on their own.

In the centre of the detail shown, a ring of people are trapped by the head or neck, under a sign that reads “Home Sweet Home.” A commentator on the museum site says this is a “group of abused children.” Not quite; not all are obviously children. As the sign tells us, it is an image of the dysfunctional family. They are all trapped by the head or neck by the shared family dynamic or delusion emanating from the narcissistic parent, even if the narcissistic parent is not present. They are all feebly biting each other and hitting one another with maces, wherever they can. 

This is the family situation the abusive parent will set up: they will deliberately foster enmity among all other members of the family. This increases their power and control. By, for example, promising this child or that child special favour, often in return for turning against a sibling.

Kurelek, the scapegoat, beaten at the top left, seems also to be one of the figures trapped at the neck by the revolving table. He seems to be the figure in the foreground.

That it is revolving is also important: no progress is ever made. It is all set up this way by the narcissist, who fears breaking out of a severely constrained orbit. The outside world, and progress itself, threatens his delusions of his own importance and his control. Any outside contacts or friendships will be discouraged in a dysfunctional family; they will be notably clannish. Any feints towards outside success will be discouraged. Any signs of originality of thought will be punished. One must conform to the family pattern. 

Hence the sense of meaninglessness and an inability to progress that most characterizes what we call “depression.” A sense of being trapped in a horribly banal world, like Dorothy at the outset of The Wizard of Oz. A sense that you, or those around you, are robotic. Because narcissists are.

Happily, Kurelek also points the way to break out of this horror: Through art, that sees the transcendent, and through religion, that takes us there.