THE GARDEN OF EARTHLY DELIGHTS Decoded: Love Marked by Death

Have you ever imagined your death? Or the process of dying? When you know that you have stepped onto a path whose end fades into the darkness of the other side, with only the decomposition of the body and all-encompassing fear ahead, until the end. It is not easy to force oneself to think about it in times of cults of the body and the gradual annihilation of the awareness of death as something shamefully hidden behind a veil of unsaid things, something that does not fit the mechanism of the modern world, yet at the same time a taboo as old as death itself. After all, death is a commodity that sells poorly, although paradoxically, it generates significant profits. This final stage of life no longer belongs to the culture of our commercial civilization; there is no place for it in the prime time of the television vanity fair or in advertising slots. It is pushed out of common awareness. That makes it even harder to tell a serious story about it. The Garden of Earthly Delights.

Lech Majewski, taking on his own novel Metaphysics, chose a daring approach, combining this subtle theme with another aspect of our lives that evokes no less emotion – love. Love marked by death and death marked by love. A theme as old as the world, easy to fall into pathos and create a tear-jerking story in the style of Love Story. However, Majewski manages to avoid the pitfalls of banality. The film tells the story of the last months of Claudine’s life and the man accompanying her on this journey, Chris. This image, however, would not be complete without one more, equally important yet silent character, which is probably one of the most mysterious masterpieces of painting, the triptych The Garden of Earthly Delights by Hieronymus Bosch, from which the director borrowed the film’s title.

Chris, initially helping Claudine gather materials for her doctoral work on this very artwork, soon becomes the closest person to her, her lover and confidant. As both an observer and participant, he takes part in the final stage of Claudine’s life – the discovery of the true meanings of The Garden… True meanings not in the sense of searching for a universal code for the multifaceted threads of the artwork, but in the sense of meanings very personal, shifted from the realm of academic considerations to the realm of sensations and feelings. The literal realization of scenes from Bosch’s apocalyptic visions gives the film more than just a painterly character, it becomes a metaphysical rite of passage, blurring the boundary between dream and reality.

The richness of the Flemish painter’s masterpiece presents itself to us here and now, urging us to stop and reflect on the meanings of its individual elements. It gives a physical dimension to the brilliant concept, becoming the final piece of Claudine’s life puzzle, the physical reflection of The Garden of Earthly Delights, and at the same time, the vestibule of death, as foretold by the last part of Bosch’s triptych. Majewski does not hesitate to lead the viewer down the risky paths of death-marked eroticism, not allowing us to forget the full cycle that human life must go through, from birth, through blooming, to the journey to the other side of the Styx. We walk there together with the characters, crossing the successive stages painted by the genius’s imagination. The lovers forget themselves in their physicality. The body, not only as a form of shackles binding our self but also as a source of sensation, pleasure, and suffering, is strongly emphasized in the film.

In perhaps the most moving scene of the film, a kind of alchemical ritual takes place. Chris, at Claudine’s request, gathers the chemical equivalents of the human body, the physical equivalent of a person: water, nitrogen, carbon, iron, zinc, copper – symbols of our existence, the components of which we are the result. A symbolic mixing of them occurs – Chris, like a demiurge, an alchemist – a madman in his laboratory, creating the mythical homunculus. Unfortunately, what we are dealing with is not a myth, but mundane reality, the result of which is nothing more than a handful of decidedly non-divine mud. But isn’t that exactly what we are, a handful of primal chemistry formed by evolution? Perhaps The Garden of Earthly Delights is the only thing left for us, maybe what Bosch points to is that what may begin for us here on Earth is truly all we can achieve.

Despite the metaphysical, dreamlike atmosphere introduced by Bosch’s work, Majewski does not escape from the brutal reality. Everything we see on screen is already just a memory. The ritual has already taken place, and what remains are a few video tapes of the beloved woman desperately seeking a place for herself in her final moments. In every frame of the electronic memories, just like in every element of Bosch’s brilliant painting, there lurks the premonition of the approaching death, despair, not cheap like from poor television movies, but sincere, deep, all-encompassing.

Watching Chris torturing himself with images of Claudine, we observe the image of a man for whom a single glance from the chosen woman was all he ever expected from life. Lack, loneliness, the feeling of loss pour out of the screen. The viewer, watching the digital recording of the passion and love of Claudine’s last months, reaches into the afterlife, immersing himself in the unreality of the master’s painting transported into such a familiar environment. The Garden of Earthly Delights… is salvation for all those suffering; it is a world beyond guilt and punishment, something that reminds us that paradise can begin for us here on Earth. Before our body decays and the soul, if it exists, ascends to an unknown realm, we may experience pleasure.

Grabbing at the last moments, however, is far from hedonism; there is nothing here of indulgence or blind vision of approaching death leading to debauchery. There is instead closeness and devotion, because, although it is a true banality, the only way to achieve happiness on this vale of tears is sincerity of feeling. And with such an impression, I left the cinema.