Trial of the Fool

SAGE: Fool, you stand before this court under trial for the tribulations of mankind. You are charged with eating the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge, of casting us out of Eden to the forsaken land. You are charged with causing the pain, suffering and strife that plagues us. This charge bears the highest penalty. This is your one chance to explain yourself. Do so, now, to the jury of mankind, and they will decide whether you are guilty of these crimes.

FOOL: You try me unjustly. This I can see, despite my foolishness. For from the very beginning, have you not banished me to my own fate? Have you not scoffed at my pleas for wisdom? How then am I to be punished for the crime you accuse me of? I have not deceived you. I never claimed to be wise, and if I did it was only because I was a fool and knew no better. You ask me why I ate the fruit. I will only tell you, it is because I knew no better, and neither would you if you too were a fool. You who were supposed to be my guide, where were you when the serpent appeared and whispered in Eve’s ear, that most vile prompting? Where were you when the Fool made his foolish plans? You were in the great palace, making great plans of your own. You who cast me out, you now place too much blame. I have searched the faces of men, looked for an answer, but no one would confess so much as a trifle of wisdom, and that in a language I did not understand. I turned to Heaven, but was scathed and cast down upon my face. I begged you for an ounce of that most precious of gifts, that wisdom that you hold so dear, but you would not offer me even a drop. You mocked and chided me, threw me scraps from your table as if I were a dog. You told me, go ask God. And again I would turn to Heaven with my prayers, only to be cast down in the sod.

            It was you who named me Fool. I had no choice in the matter. I might just as well have been called Man, had you known better. You claim to know, though perhaps not outright. But deep in your hearts you hold fast to your wisdom, and it is bound with bitterness, and even, spite! For I see the way you look upon me. Your scolding glances cut me to the quick. You cherish my foolishness, for it gives you right to be called wise. Your neglect, your mistreatment of me—that is my, and Man’s, undoing. Why don’t you try acting on impulse for once in your existence? Ah, but your only impulse is to learn. But learning only makes a thing fact, it does not make a thing real. You see through such thick lenses, you have forgotten that your eyes are also alive. My eyes are quick, if rather dim. They have seen much, perhaps more than your own. They have seen men with great wisdom striking down the meek and helpless. They have seen sages turn their backs on the world for the sake of more wisdom. Is this wise? I ask you, is this not the greatest folly, to forsake life itself for wisdom’s gain? I have lived more life in an instant than all the greatest sages have for a lifetime, for I have allowed myself the ability to be wrong, I have been in the dust, and known its taste on my tongue!

            Instead of punishing me for my folly, you might learn from me, perhaps even worship me. I have such gifts to give! The gift of laughter, yes, but also beauty, and even truth. What is the statement? “Live and let live.” There is a bit of wisdom for a fool! You say that deep down, I myself lust after wisdom, which is why I’ll never find it. That it is this lust for wisdom that makes me the Fool, but I will tell you, it is not the lust for wisdom that makes me the Fool, but the lust for life. You sages do not lust for life. You readily admit this. What, then, do you lust for? You say you do not lust? I say you lie, and in fact I would say you lust for death. The difference, then, between us is, in my lust for life, I consummate the desire over and over again, whereas your lust is in constant denial for something inevitable, and when it comes you do not even know it is there. Wisdom, your prized possession, is nothing more than a retreat from life itself. Folly, then, is the blind assault upon life, and life is its own reward. Not so with death, oh sages. If that be folly, then strike me down.

            Why not pass on your wisdom to me? You fear I would use it falsely, but I would say the opposite is true.  To attempt to teach a man how to live, that is your folly, oh sages! Man will live as fate would have him live. A life of wisdom leads to death, as does a life of folly. It is not his wisdom or folly that a man gives, but himself and himself alone. His life is his only legacy. You fear this truth, so you build your towers of wisdom to block it out, but when the door is closed, the tower will fall, my friends! And who will be there to pick up the pieces? Only the next fool who desires wisdom.

            But what is a fool to do with so many pieces and no direction? He only constructs chaos, a maze for other fools to wander through that has no end. He builds this maze around himself, leaving himself in the middle with no escape. Yes, the Fool is the loneliest of creatures. And you would condemn him further, when he already suffers immeasurably? The fool holds no sway, his foolishness is his own and no other’s. He alone suffers. Why does the sage not come to his aid? “Leave a fool to his folly.” That is what they say. Why then do you insist on punishing me? Let me wander off, if you must. I will gladly leave this place behind. I assure you, even if you deign to execute me, Foolishness will not die. The greatest of sages will find folly somehow. This I can guarantee.

            And indeed I would argue that this trial is folly. You say I cause pain, suffering, and strife. This may be true, but the majority of these things are mine and mine alone. And further I would say that in my pain, I bring others the greatest joy, and even, understanding. In my nakedness, others are aware of their clothes. In my sorrow, others are aware of their joy. Do you wish to also remove these elements from your lives? If so, do as you must, but be warned: a life without foolishness is a life of foreboding, for how are you to appreciate life if you are not reminded of your own humility? You sages fear death. That is why you worship it. Without the fool to recall you to your lives, from what platform will you worship? The scale will tip, and all of your wisdom will scatter to the four winds.

            You may negate all this by saying it is foolishness. But deep in your hearts you know that there is wisdom in it. You laugh and mock me to hide your fear, but your eyes behold this fool and see a man, just like you.

         I have committed no crime by choice. I have lived my life only trying to serve, but have been unable because I was never able to serve myself. I have my whole life relied upon you to be my guide. Yet now you wish to punish me, and I will say this: By punishing me you will be punishing yourself, for it was your failure to guide me that caused the strife. So let it be so! Do what you will. I will speak no more. My conviction is not my will.

SAGE: Enough! Each word you speak brings us all one step closer to death! Your folly is endless, it seems. You have stated your case--that beyond all wisdom and folly lies fate. Let us hear what yours shall be. Let the jury discuss, and we shall wait.

MAN: We have reached our decision. The Fool is guilty as charged.

SAGE: Because the folly of the Fool is the root of all evil in the world, we must dig deep in the soil of existence to uproot him, and that is what we sages will do. We will send you, the Fool, to the outer reaches of existence, where nothing grows but doubt and darkness, and cut out your tongue that your folly may not echo back to us. We will put out your eyes that you can see nothing but the folly of your own making. We will cut off your hands so that nothing of folly will ever reach creation. You will sit in the chair in the room of perdition. Solitude and darkness await you there. This punishment will perhaps teach you the meaning of wisdom, and if you ever learn to be happy with your condition, you may return, and will be forgiven.