Markup /zellig/45439

Comment
In Ongezellig, we observe a tragic manifestation of the dissolution of traditional forms, a slow collapse into the void where once stood the pillars of hierarchy, order, and transcendence. This series, a vignette of postmodern decay, offers a window into the plight of those unmoored from the sacred and the eternal, abandoned to the whims of the temporal. Here, the modern individual is reflected in the figures of Maya, Coco, and Mymy, whose lives unfold in bleak resignation to the tides of secular materialism, to a realm devoid of both principle and purpose.

At the center of Ongezellig stands Maya, a character emblematic of the fractured nature of modernity, whose existence has become a theater of transient desires, torn between impulse and despair. Maya embodies the “lunar” qualities that, in their unchecked form, are so vehemently decried: she is animated by feeling, by mere sensation, and yet these offer her no consolation, for her actions remain rootless, unanchored in any transcendent reality. She drifts, like so many in this desacralized age, in a state of perpetual distraction, seeking meaning in a life where the higher calling has long been obscured.

In this way, Ongezellig unveils the family as a mere skeleton of its former self, stripped of the vital structures and meanings that once elevated it. Where once there was a hierarchy rooted in the divine, a chain that connected the earthly to the heavenly, we now find only a flat expanse, a place where chaos reigns in the absence of order. The relationships among Maya, Coco, and Mymy are discordant, reflective of a society that has lost all knowledge of initiation, of hierarchy, of duty. Instead of harmonious unity, we witness disintegration, an ever-deepening alienation that mirrors the social entropy of modernity.

These characters, far from embodying roles imbued with sacred duty, drift in a confusion that reflects the democratization of the soul—a levelling that blurs all distinction between impulse and will, between action and virtue. They reveal the absence of that “solar” force which orders life toward the eternal. Each of them, instead, is guided only by an inner vacillation, a ceaseless wavering that signals the spiritual exhaustion of a society deprived of the heroic ideal.

It is a bitter irony, for in Ongezellig we see not the fulfillment of life but its degradation, the spiritual malaise that follows the loss of the transcendent. For Evola, such figures as Maya, Coco, and Mymy could have once been initiates into a higher order; they might have been participants in the sacred dramas of life. But instead, they are mere casualties of a fallen age, bound to the profane and condemned to a formless existence.

Thus, Ongezellig stands as an unconscious testament to the need for a return to hierarchy, to sacred law, to the embrace of the eternal. It is only through such a return that the soul, lost in this maze of unanchored desires, may find liberation. Only then might there emerge once again the archetype of the True Man, he who lives not for himself but as a bridge between the material and the divine.