Compassion for Roman Polanski

Posted by Jennine Lanouette on Wednesday, September 30th, 2009

When I first read of Roman Polanski’s arrest in Zurich, I cried out, “Oh no!” and then burst into tears. My partner Ed came rushing over, so I had to reassure him no one had died. “I don’t know why I’m reacting this way,” I said, “but Roman Polanski has been arrested!” I then tried to explain to him what this news meant to me, while also trying to figure out for myself why I was taking it so hard. For the whole rest of the day, whenever I would stop to think about it again, I would feel the urge to cry.

By the next morning, I felt no less pained by it. So I started writing. Soon I had the rough draft of an essay. And a good reason to finally launch that blog people keep telling me to do. Whatever hesitations I’ve had about blogging in the past are now outweighed by a burning need to say something. So here it is:

I feel for Roman Polanski as I would for a family member who had once done a terrible thing that I know has compromised his life and clung to his conscience for years. I consider it part of our human fallibility to make mistakes. Sometimes those mistakes have tragic consequences for another person. When those we love make tragic mistakes, we hope they will show contrition and make amends, but we don’t love them any less.

I have reverence and gratitude towards Mr. Polanski for the human truth and beauty of the cinematic experiences he has created and for all that his work has taught me about the transcendent capabilities of film drama. And I am grateful to the cosmic forces that put such an artist on this earth. I don’t know why those forces saw fit to temper this artist in such fires of hell as he was made to endure in childhood, or to burnish him further with more unfathomable loss in adulthood. Neither do I understand why so often the human response to terrible suffering is the unthinking exploitation of others, in this case, very sadly, a 13-year-old girl.

All I know is when I am faced, once again, with the totality of wrongs encapsulated in this man’s life, as I also hold close the surpassing gifts he has nonetheless been able to manifest, I can’t keep myself from weeping. I wish he hadn’t done what he did, but that doesn’t lessen my compassion for his suffering and my gratitude for his artistry.

This case is as tragic for Mr. Polanski as it was for Ms. Geimer. It is also tragic for those who are now unthinkingly exploiting the sensational aspects of it, in effect piling more abuse on top of the abuses already endured. And it is tragic for the rest of us, always searching for those bits of art and inspiration, so rare and hard won, that can transport us, for a fleeting moment, beyond this hellish existence that we collectively create. Mr. Polanski is a great artist, but he is neither worse nor better than any other human being. Please let this be an opportunity to put the matter to rest.