Thursday, December 9, 2010

Dear Dr. Sexson

Dr. Sexson,

Thank you so much for the class.  Coming from the background I do, I really had very little knowledge of the Bible at the start of the semester.  I don't at all claim to have much knowledge of the Bible even now, for as I learned more about the 'good book' from your class, I was humbled by the vastness of the Bible as a literary work.  This semester was unexpectedly and intensely chaotic, and I found myself unfortunately juggling too many obligations at once with an unlucky combination of happenstance bombshells falling in my way.  I wish I could have more blog posts for you to read, but I took your advice and tried to produce quality over quantity.  I hope my writing reflects my genuine interest, as you have inspired a drive and curiosity in me to continue studying the Bible as a literary text long after our final exam.  Again, thank you for the experience.

Dan Goodman

A Comparison of Universes

During my reading of Isaac Singer's The Slave, I came upon an interesting passage in which Jacob is asking the big questions beneath the stars as he walks.  The same questions strike me as well when I am in a contemplative mood on a clear night.

"Raising his eyes, he saw more stars appearing, large and brilliant her in the mountains.  The workings of the heavens were visible to hi, each orbiting light going its prescrived way and fulfilling its function.  Notions he had had as a boy returned to him.  Suppose he had wings and flew in one direction forever, would he come to the end of space?  But how could space end?  What extended beyond?  Or was the material world infinite?  But if it was, infinity stretched both to the east and west, and how could there be twice infinity?  And what of time?  How could even God have had no beginning?  How could anything be eternal?  Where had everything come form?  These questions were impertinent, he knew, impermissible, pushing the inquirer toward heresy and madness.

He continued to walk.  How strange and feeble was man.  Surrounded on every side by eternity, in the midst of powers, angels, seraphim, cherubim, arcane worlds, and divine mysteries, all he could lust for was flesh and blood.  Yet man's smallness was no less a wonder than God's greatness."(Singer 136).

This last paragraph is the product of man's difficulty comprehending the insignificance of himself so he projects his on self onto a greater being to fill the void.  At least that is my belief, and this is how differentiate between his descriptions of the universe and mine:

            I had an epiphany.  My mind was transported.  The universe transformed from a puzzlingly existential three-dimensional world, to an infinitely intertwining system of perfect elegance.   The realization struck suddenly.  My senses ignited.  Awareness is entirely relative.  My reality was once like a house I lived in from the time I was born.  It took nineteen years before I accidentally discovered a door and wandered outside. 
            The epiphany came as a simultaneous, unified realization.  There was no initial conscious ordering of logic or thought experiment involved.  The understanding just appeared suddenly before me.  Yet there are seemingly no words to appropriately describe it and encompass everything it contains.  Explaining it is like trying to bang a nail into a very hard wall with a very small hammer.  A description is a swing and a glancing blow, bending the nail or sending it flying, while the stubborn wall remains unchanged and blind.

 Later in the novel after Wanda has died, Jacob of course has endured intense tragedy and physical exhaustion  He has gone through a transformation, struggling through the loss of his wife just like his namesake Jacob of the Bible, he realizes this connection to the holy book.  Like a whirlwind epiphany, Jacob realizes the name he must give his boy:

"Benjamin.  Like the first Benjamin, this child was a Be-oni, a child born of sorrow.... The river's calmness, purity, and radiance refuted the darkness of the night.  Set against this luminosity even death seemed only a bad dream.  Neither the sky, nor the river, nor the dunes were dead.  Everything was alive, the earth, the sun, each stone." (Singer 278).

This altered description of reality struck me personally.  I previously had written this description myself:
 
The tall grass moves in waves with the wind.   Air billows above the forgiving green blades, bending them nearly to the ground in fanning processions across the valley.  The varying rush of the front tumbles past my ears.  Like a constant blast of white noise, every gust deafens.  The sun that was striking my face and arms from above begins to slip behind the fringes of a dark grey torrent of cloud.  Yet light still glints from the ripples of a narrow creek, cutting deep grooves into the land.  Even my body shifts in response to the current, swaying to the left with every gust, and returning after it passes.  Just like the grass.  

The only thing that seemingly does not move in this ordered chaos is the cabin.  A flexing skeleton of its former design, it remains rigid, hollow, and floorless.  But even this creation is in motion.  Through the lens of a lifetime, wood floorboards are consumed from the bottom up.  The spine of the ceiling arcs more and more with the pull of the earth.  Panels weaken, nails rust, and generations of organisms are born, taken refuge, and die.  A hundred winters and a thousand storms like this one have changed its image, but it still persists for now.  Yet time will sink this cabin beneath the ground.  Time will crumble every plank and nail.  For everything in this system is in motion.  Every element is apart of the whole.  Every atom is a participant in this chaotic order. 
There is a rhythm to it all.  A story.

 They may be quite different at a glance, but I believe both my own and the narrator's descriptions allude to a greater universal reality. 

The Invention of Lying

I watched a fantastic movie the other night called The Invention of Lying.  If you haven't seen it, the premise of the movie takes place in a satirical version of the modern day world in which lying is not an aspect of the human condition.  The protagonist; Mark Bellison played Rick Gervais, has a sudden epiphany while at the bank.  He creates the first lie in history to get more money than he actually had in his account from the bank teller.  No matter what he says people believe him without question because lying is not a comprehendable concept.  In accordance with this reality, there are no words for such concepts as truth and fiction.  This implication of the dictation of language on a society's understanding of the world reminded me of a poem by Wallace Stevens titled The Idea of Order at Key West handed out by Robert Bennett in my Literary Criticism class:

"She sang beyond the genius of the sea.
The water never formed to mind or voice,
Like a body wholly body, fluttering
Its empty sleeves; and yet its mimic motion
Made constant cry, caused constantly a cry,
That was not ours although we understood,
Inhuman, of the veritable ocean. The sea was not a mask. No more was she.
The song and water were not medleyed sound
Even if what she sang was what she heard,
Since what she sang was uttered word by word.
It may be that in all her phrases stirred
The grinding water and the gasping wind;
But it was she and not the sea we heard.
For she was the maker of the song she sang.
The ever-hooded, tragic-gestured sea
Was merely a place by which she walked to sing.
Whose spirit is this? we said, because we knew
It was the spirit that we sought and knew
That we should ask this often as she sang.
If it was only the dark voice of the sea
That rose, or even colored by many waves;
If it was only the outer voice of sky
And cloud, of the sunken coral water-walled,
However clear, it would have been deep air,
The heaving speech of air, a summer sound
Repeated in a summer without end
And sound alone. But it was more than that,
More even than her voice, and ours, among
The meaningless plungings of water and the wind,
Theatrical distances, bronze shadows heaped
On high horizons, mountainous atmospheres
Of sky and sea.
                   It was her voice that made
The sky acutest at its vanishing.
She measured to the hour its solitude.
She was the single artificer of the world
In which she sang. And when she sang, the sea,
Whatever self it had, became the self
That was her song, for she was the maker. Then we,
As we beheld her striding there alone,
Knew that there never was a world for her
Except the one she sang and, singing, made.
Ramon Fernandez, tell me, if you know,
Why, when the singing ended and we turned
Toward the town, tell why the glassy lights,
The lights in the fishing boats at anchor there,
As the night descended, tilting in the air,
Mastered the night and portioned out the sea,
Fixing emblazoned zones and fiery poles,
Arranging, deepening, enchanting night.
Oh! Blessed rage for order, pale Ramon,
The maker's rage to order words of the sea,
Words of the fragrant portals, dimly-starred,
And of ourselves and of our origins,
In ghostlier demarcations, keener sounds."

Anyway, Mark begins lying constantly and getting everything he could possibly want.  As I watched the movie, I began to see many references to the story of Moses becoming a prophet of the Israelites.  When his mother is dieing, her begins lying to her about how she will go to a wonderful place when she dies and everyone she has ever loved will be there.  Tears poor from both mother and son as her spirits are lifted by Mark's words as she passes away, a very powerful moment in the movie.  Word gets out about what Mark said, and Mark finds himself having to describe heaven to eager and gullible crowds.  Mark tells the people that his has been given this information by "The Man in the Sky".  Mark is clearly Moses.  His metaphorical struggle to summit Mount Sinai can be found in the brutal and heartfelt insults and judgments thrown at him by society for not being overly handsome or wealthy. 

Before addressing the masses concerning his lie to his dieing mother, he even writes his message on two pizza boxes for display, a reference perhaps to the existence of two tablets on which the Ten Commandments were inscribed, or the more interesting fact that two versions of the Ten Commandments exist in the Bible.  The first set of Ten Commandments can be found in Exodus 20:2-17.


And God spake all these words, saying,

I am the LORD thy God, which have brought thee out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of bondage.

Thou shalt have no other gods before me.

Thou shalt not make unto thee any graven image, or any likeness of any thing that is in heaven above, or that is in the earth beneath, or that is in the water under the earth:

thou shalt not bow down thyself to them, nor serve them: for I the LORD thy God am a jealous God, visiting the iniquity of the fathers upon the children unto the third and fourth generation of them that hate me;

and showing mercy unto thousands of them that love me, and keep my commandments. 

Thou shalt not take the name of the LORD thy God in vain: for the LORD will not hold him guiltless that taketh his name in vain.

Remember the sabbath day, to keep it holy. 

Six days shalt thou labor, and do all thy work:

but the seventh day is the sabbath of the LORD thy God: in it thou shalt not do any work, thou, nor thy son, nor thy daughter, thy manservant, nor thy maidservant, nor thy cattle, nor thy stranger that is within thy gates:

for in six days the LORD made heaven and earth, the sea, and all that in them is, and rested the seventh day: wherefore the LORD blessed the sabbath day, and hallowed it. 

Honor thy father and thy mother: that thy days may be long upon the land which the LORD thy God giveth thee.

Thou shalt not kill. 

Thou shalt not commit adultery. 

Thou shalt not steal.

Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbor. 

Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor's house, thou shalt not covet thy neighbor's wife, nor his manservant, nor his maidservant, nor his ox, nor his ass, nor any thing that is thy neighbor's.  

This is the more popular version of the Ten Commandments.  The other version comes from Deuteronomy 5:6-21.

I am the LORD thy God, which brought thee out of the land of Egypt, from the house of bondage. Thou shalt have none other gods before me.
Thou shalt not make thee any graven image, or any likeness of any thing that is in heaven above, or that is in the earth beneath, or that is in the waters beneath the earth:
Thou shalt not bow down thyself unto them, nor serve them: for I the LORD thy God am a jealous God, visiting the iniquity of the fathers upon the children unto the third and fourth generation of them that hate me,
And shewing mercy unto thousands of them that love me and keep my commandments.
Thou shalt not take the name of the LORD thy God in vain: for the LORD will not hold him guiltless that taketh his name in vain.
Keep the sabbath day to sanctify it, as the LORD thy God hath commanded thee.
Six days thou shalt labour, and do all thy work:
But the seventh day is the sabbath of the LORD thy God: in it thou shalt not do any work, thou, nor thy son, nor thy daughter, nor thy manservant, nor thy maidservant, nor thine ox, nor thine ass, nor any of thy cattle, nor thy stranger that is within thy gates; that thy manservant and thy maidservant may rest as well as thou.
And remember that thou wast a servant in the land of Egypt, and that the LORD thy God brought thee out thence through a mighty hand and by a stretched out arm: therefore the LORD thy God commanded thee to keep the sabbath day.
Honour thy father and thy mother, as the LORD thy God hath commanded thee; that thy days may be prolonged, and that it may go well with thee, in the land which the LORD thy God giveth thee.
 Thou shalt not kill.
Neither shalt thou commit adultery.
Neither shalt thou steal.
Neither shalt thou bear false witness against thy neighbour.
Neither shalt thou desire thy neighbour's wife, neither shalt thou covet thy neighbour's house, his field, or his manservant, or his maidservant, his ox, or his ass, or any thing that is thy neighbour's.

Obviously the development of the bible by multiple authors explains the duality.  I enjoyed David Plotz's discussion of this in The Good Book.  I personally did not grow up in a religious family.  I might have mentioned it earlier but I don't recall, but I have never even been baptized.  As early as elementary school I would joke to my friends that I was an ungodly heathen.  "A child of satan!" I would taught.  I wasn't actually a bad kid, but I got a kick out of the reactions of some.  Also if I did not mention this earlier, I am an atheist as well.  I tend to agree with Buddhist views on spirituality rather than the psychological undertaking of theism, though I suppose both belief in god and belief in no god can be difficult to live with depending on who you are and where you come from. 

Anyway, Mark describes heaven and naively creates a fairytale for his listeners.  Then someone asks if bad people "get mansions" too.  Suddenly this creates a difficult dilemma.  A barrage of questions ensues as Mark recklessly creates a three strike policy for sins committed before going to 'Hell'.  The creation of more detailed moral guidelines is essentially a spoof on the development of the entire book of Deuteronomy.  The movie even shows the effects of such beliefs on society, including a radical promoting the committing of the first two strikes because they don't count as long as you don't commit a third. 

The Invention of Lying also had a touching message.  Mark's ability to lie was really his ability to say something other than the universally perceived common reality.  Mark had imagination.  The ability to imagine not only allows one to lie, but also allows one to see beyond the superficial judgments of society.  The Invention of Lying was not only a spoof on aspects of the Bible, it also accredited the Moses and the Bible in general albeit indirectly with the ability to provide hope, faith, and positivity for the future.  I would highly recommend this movie as I certainly enjoyed it myself.

Listening for the Bible

I had not truly opened my eyes and ears to look for the bible in the world around me until about a week ago.  I started keeping a memo on my Blackberry, and in two days I ended up with a list of over twenty references.  I suppose for now I'll just start at the top of the list.

The other day I was driving to campus listening to the new Kanye West album I had just downloaded, which by the way is incredibly self centered as expected.  A friend of mine told me a story about something Kanye West had said about the bible as well so I looked it up.  Apparently Kanye said "I changed the sound of music more than one time... For all those reasons, I'd be a part of the Bible.  I'm definitely in the history books already." ...Wow.  I think if Kanye West actually read some of the Bible he would realize exactly why he is not in it, but that's just judgmental me talking.  Anyway... Track 12 (an ironic track number if I do say so myself) entitled, "Who Will Survive in America" pulls from a work by Amiri Baraka.

"People don't even want to hear the preachers spill or squeal,
Because gods hoard has been thoroughly peaked
And America is now blood and tears instead of milk and honey"

More lyrics: http://www.lyricsmode.com/lyrics/k/kanye_west/#share

It was the 'milk and honey' line that initially caught my attention.  It reminded my of a failed vision of John Winthrop's, 'City on a Hill.'  Winthrop was a Puritan leader landing at Plymouth Rock, one of the first settlements in the future American colonies.  His sermon describing his hope for a new nation was originally drawn from Matthew 5:14 in which Jesus says to his followers, "You are the light of the world. A city that is set on a hill cannot be hidden".

"and I am come down to deliver them out of the hand of the Egyptians, and to bring them up out of that land unto a good land and a large, unto a land flowing with milk and honey." (Exodus 3:8).

As religious as the Puritans were... and I don't doubt Winthrop's knowledge of Exodus among other books in the Bible, I wonder what it must have felt like for Winthrop to give that sermon.  It must have been a powerful moment for all who were present.  Considering the trials of the Puritans leading up to their voyage as well as the crossing of the Atlantic Ocean, this reference to the chosen people being delivered out of Egypt must have been a poignant and moving experience... but perhaps I have a tendency to romanticize the past.


Garden Movie Representation

Here is the link to the movie that goes with this blog  (If there isn't actually a link below, it is because it has not uploaded to youtube yet so I cannot post the link, but I will.)  Unfortunately the video I exported to Youtube must have coded incorrectly or something because the music from some of the clips I muted when making the movie and dubbing in my own music somehow became unmuted.  I am extremely annoyed about this, but hopefully you aren't as agitated by the jarring interruptions as I am:


I thought I'd post the movie I made for our group Garden project in class.  Basically I ripped movies from youtube and pieced them together with iMovie.  I really enjoy video editing, so I figured I would take that on and certainly got a little carried away.  I also am extremely grateful to BBC's Planet Earth from which much of the cinematography came from.  This montage interpretation was basically my take on the first few days in Genesis.  I thought I'd put a CGI representation of the Big Bang at the beginning not only to reference God's famous line "Let there be light", but also to attach a scientific implication.  This inclusion of our scientific understanding of the world in a montage work representing Genesis emphasizes my belief that a literal reading of Genesis is a rather limited one.  Northrop Frye's four kinds of language; descriptive, conceptual, rhetorical, and mythic certainly speak to this. 

Once the earth comes into view and begins to rapidly zoom in, the sublime laughing-scream of Pink Floyd's 'Speak to Me/ Breath' transforms to melody and day two of Genesis begins.  The creation of mist from the earth is represented by the floating clouds.  The introduction of cells multiplying was again the inclusion of a scientific interpretation on the creation of man or Adam.  I wanted to display the development of the fetus leading up to the first line of 'Speak to Me/ Breath' when David Gilmour sings the following:

Breathe, breathe in the air.Don't be afraid to care.
Leave but don't leave me.
Look around and choose your own ground.
Long you live and high you fly
And smiles you'll give and tears you'll cry
And all you touch and all you see
Is all your life will ever be.

 The first two words, 'Breathe, breath' reminded me of God breathing life into Adam.  Just like when a baby takes its first breathe.  The more I listened to the lyrics, the more they sounded like God's declaration to man, albeit a loose connection.  'Leave but don't leave me'.  Hmmmm....perhaps God the Father talking to his children?  If God is the ultimate patriarch and the Garden of Eden and all that is created in it (Adam and Eve included) represents the feminine, then he is also speaking to his lover.  This combined with the previous suggestion, 'Don't be afraid to care' emphasizes a yearning by God not to be forgotten by his children.  Reminds me of my parents when I moved out and into the dorms.  The last four lines of the lyrics I used have a similar tone, but more prophetic.  They recall Frye's fifth language of the bible the kerygmatic, or the language of God spoken indirectly through someone else or by God himself.  These lines, especially the more depressing final two; 'And all you touch and all you see/ is all your life will ever be.' speak to the ignorance of both Adam and Eve before the eating of the fruit.  Considering that "the eyes of them both were opened" (Genesis 3:7) upon eating from the tree of knowledge of good and evil, a connection to ignorance at the beginning of creation exists.  I intentionally transitioned clips from puffy white clouds to storm clouds rapidly aproaching for these last lines.  At God's (Pink Floyd's)...(and no I don't think Pink Floyd is God)...last word at the end of the second day, lightning flashes slowly across the sky.  The sound of rain also crescendos in the background and before its decrescendo as a very different song is also brought in for Eden's creation on the third day.  I don't mean to pat myself on the back, but I was especially proud of this transition.  The sound of rain was ripped from a clip of a rainstorm I also found on youtube.  The song for the third day that fades in at this transition also was ripped from a clip on youtube that I came across when searching for 'Heartbeat' in hopes of finding a sound affect for the creation of Adam, an idea I eventually abandoned.  Even the transition clip of the lightning rumbling slowly across the sky had extremely poor audio quality so I found the sound of thunder recorded in other videos of storms and matched the audio/video as well as I could.  Sometimes these things are really difficult, but sometimes they just fall into place...this was definitely a first attempt match up that worked perfectly. 

One thing I think I should also mention before discussing my representation of the third day of creation is the emphasis on the vastness of space at the beginning of the movie and the relativity of time.  I chose many time lapsed clips preceded by a cosmic zoom of the universe to emphasize the infinity of God.  In some ways, this description of both God and space-time (perhaps one in the same) is a reminder of both the lessons from Phillip K Dick and the movie Waking Life as well as the latest astrophysical understandings of space-time and the universe.

The third day is basically self explanatory.  I wanted to suggest the creation of the Garden of Eden as a gradual development, sort of like pond scum turning into an oak tree after a couple billion years.  The scenes gradually widen as the day continues, again an attempt at gradualism to include a part by time.  Two clips before the end of the day when the sunset is introduced, a circling pan of an almost glowing green tree is included.  I put this clip near the climax of the day to introduce a reference to specifically the tree of life.  I tried to find some good footage of pomegranates ; ) but I was surprisingly unsuccessful.  After the sunset shot the scene transitions to a sunrise.  I thought about including nighttime scenes between the sunset and sunrise until remembering the mantra at the end of each day's story, "And the evening and the morning were the first (or second, third, fouth, fifth, and sixth) day." (Genesis 1:8, 13, 19, 23, 31)

I transition to the fifth day at this point rather than the third.  I decided that creating an additional montage showing the creation of the division of day and night, the seasons, and the first seeds, or in other words the creation of the passage of time would be redundant to include.  Again, I wanted to emphasize the more modern understandings of the universe by involving time from the beginning of the film.  As time and space are inseparable in space-time, they are also impossible to ignore when watching any video clip with moving images.  The first perception of change or transition of the image would instantly  bring about the inclusion of time, for the viewer would perceive the change... but I digress. 

The fifth day is brought in with a song from the K-PAX Original Soundtrack called Taxi Ride.  The first clip of the fifth day emerges the viewer in water and bubbles.  I also included rain again for this transition to recall the side of pragmatism which would argue that rivers come from the cycle of evaporation of water into clouds that precipitate at mountain range faces.  At the end of the fifth day the last clip taken from space shows the river separating into tributaries.  This was at least an attempted and indirect reference towards multiple rivers created by God according to Genesis.

The sixth day represents God's declaration, "'Let the earth bring forth the living creature after his kind, cattle, and creeping thing, and beast of the earth after his kind'" (Genesis 2:24).  I introduced more basic creatures like snails into the film, then gradually brought larger species as a wave to my old friend evolution. 

I left the seventh day and the Jahwist creation story for our class presentation. 

Femininity: Divine or Satanic


The devil is always at work.  Or at least in Isaac Bashevis Singer’s Nobel Prize winning novel The Slave, the Polish Jews of the seventeenth century believed this.  Jacob, a pious Jewish slave who falls in love with a non-Jewish gentile girl by the name of Wanda, struggles with this belief throughout the book.  After being ransomed out of Wanda’s village by other Jews living in the entirely Jewish community of Josefov in Poland, Jacob finds himself wandering back to the village for days to take Wanda away.  Throughout his journey as well as the trials of Jacob and Wanda during her pregnancy, the birth of their son Benjamin, and Wanda’s death bringing him into the world, Jacob struggles with the forces of human nature.  He believes them to be the work of Satan. This perceived direct connection between the devil’s tinkering and the desires of human nature place women in an inferior societal role stimulated further by the faith in the stories of the Old Testament.
At the core of the drive of human nature is the goal to procreate for the sake of survival.  Women play a key role in the natural cycle of reproduction, being the object of men’s affection and the bearers of lust’s result. Yet the strict guidelines of Jewish law complicate and forcibly redirect men’s urges into the socially acceptable confines of what is supposedly pious.  Jacob’s love for a non-Jewish woman sparks the conflict between his urges and his beliefs, developing a perceived role of the devil in Jacob’s desires.  After Wanda deliriously exposes her secret that she is not actually a deaf and dumb Jew named Sarah while giving birth, a lie she had to keep to be married and live with Jacob in Josefov, she dies.  Jacob, realizing he will be excommunicated and in overwhelming grief over the loss of his wife thinks,  “Rather than troubling himself to induce a Jew to eat pork or kindle a fire on the Sabbath, Satan did easier and more important work, advocating those sins deeply rooted in human nature.” (Singer 247).  But Jacob is not simply convinced that his desire for Wanda is the work of the devil.  He sees parallels to his namesake, Jacob in the Old Testament.  Like this Jacob, he loses his wife in childbirth and his newborn son survives.  He names his son Benjamin as does the biblical Jacob. Jacob is portrayed as being much more biblically knowledgeable than his fellow Jews, further complicating his understanding of both God’s and Satan’s roles in his life.  Yet aside from Jacob’s conflicting opinions, the relating of women to the devil still pervades the rest of the culture and is emphasized throughout the novel.
As the end goal of Satan’s lusty persuasion, women appear to be in collusion with evil, creating a mysterious and seemingly sinister existence of the feminine as perceived by ‘pious’ men.  This connection between women and Satan is directly connected back to humanity’s Original Sin.  The narrator’s description of the crowded room where Sarah is giving birth alludes to this connection. “There was silence and everyone listened to Sarah’s groans.  Men bowed their heads; women covered their faces as if ashamed of Eve’s curse.” (Singer 229).  The Reference to “Eve’s curse” is describing God’s punishment after Eve says to God, “The serpent beguiled me, and I did eat.” (Genesis 3:13) God replies booming, "I will greatly multiply thy sorrow and thy conception; in sorrow thou shalt bring forth children; and thy desire shall be to thy husband, and he shall rule over thee.” (Genesis 3:16).  Not only does this reference directly relate Original Sin to Wanda’s desperate situation, but the identity of the serpent in Genesis also emphasizes the sexual nature of women.  Eve is beguiled by a serpent and punished with bearing children.  The serpent’s phallic nature creates a direct reference to the sins of sex.  This metaphor compounds sin and shapes the identity of women in traditional Jewish society.
Other descriptions of women as promiscuous pawns of the devil arise out of The Slave as well.  Lady Pilitzky, the wife of a local Christian tyrant ruling over the Jewish town of Josefov, embodies a Jewish man’s betrayal to God, and the classic female sinner.  Not only is she a Christian, a woman existing outside the bounds of purity, but from adultery to sodomy, Lady Pilitzky breaks every rule of the Torah.  While speaking to Jacob when her husband is not around she even flirts with Jacob, the embodiment of temptation. “Lady Pilitzky smiled.  ‘Ah, the Swedes are angels?  No, Jacob, all men are alike.  Frankly, I don’t blame them.  Women have only one use for them.  A child must nurse and doesn’t care if the breast belongs to a peasant or a princess.  Men are like children.’ Demureness and coquetry met in Lady Pilitzky’s smile.” (Singer 188)  Her words highlight the inferiority of women to men as well as the child-like nature of man’s lust. She describes a sexual correlation between the relationship of a son and his mother and the relationship of a man and his lover.  By saying that “men are like children” while at the same time recognizing the superiority of men to women, the statement suggests that women are not inferior to men in simply a grounded societal sense, but rather in a spiritual sense.  In more worldly terms, Lady Pilitzky’s statement highlights the power of women to be the ultimate desire of men throughout life from boyhood to manhood.  Yet women are spiritually inferior because they are tainted by evil.  This tarnishing comes both from Eve’s act of Original Sin as well as the association of women as sexual objects of temptation for men.
            The manifestation of women’s relationships with evil is directly related with the assumptions and structures of a patriarchal culture. The historical origin of the Jewish faith from which the Torah was created was patriarchal, spawning descendents like the Canaanites and other regionally located cultures of the Fertile Crescent more than 5000 years ago, likely all of which have been consistently patriarchal as well. The dichotomy of the innate power of femininity and the inferiority of women in society would have created a major struggle for the male psyche in such a culture.  A story like the Original Sin in Genesis is a perfect example of a cultural attempt at explanation for this dichotomy at the time.  By telling a story about the creation of the human race and including the disobedience of specifically the first woman to be the first sin of mankind, the myth creates a reason for male superiority.  God’s punishment upon Eve also creates an explanation for why women possess the most important role in humanity, bearing children to continue the survival of the human race.  The creation of a human being inside of a woman is a God-like power innate in only femininity.  By reshaping this power into a punishment through the story of Original Sin, this remarkable ability is discredited.  By categorizing lust and desire as a sin, the power of women to sexually captivate men is also diminished.  Man’s frequent inability to understand the mind of a woman only encourages a sexist mindset, for human beings tend to fear that which they do not understand.  Fearing women gives women more power, but in the way that fearing the devil gives the devil more power.  By attributing women to sin, the power of femininity is both explained and destroyed.
            Isaac Singer’s novel The Slave combats this psychological debacle through Jacob’s character.  Jacob’s extensive knowledge of the Jewish faith and his own piety allow him to seemingly transcend the dogmas of his own religion.  This appears to be a contradiction, but it is Jacob’s understanding and acceptance of the true power of femininity represented in the novel that destroys the stigma of female inferiority.  The feminine and a romanticized natural environment are connected by the innate fertility in both.  “He was solitary here as the original Adam, with no sign anywhere of man and his works.  The birds silent, only the song of the grasshoppers and the bubbling of a stream were heard.  Glacial breezes blew from the mountains.  Jacob breathed in deeply, savoring the familiar odors.  Strange how he had missed not only Wanda but this.” (Singer 135).  Jacob’s noting of his coupled desire for both nature and Wanda allude to the similarly fertile characteristics of each. This connection between nature and femininity by way of fertility is also a key element to the Garden of Eden, God the ultimate patriarch’s original feminine counterpart. The association with Earth as the mother of mankind is not only a common trait throughout many other mythologies around the world, but also lends great credit to the power of femininity.  Jacob’s recognition of fertility’s holy value combined with his contrasting description of Josefov helps to separate his understanding of femininity from the Jews of the town.  “The stale air of Josefov had been unbearable, windows tightly shut, nothing but books all day.” (Singer 135).  Considering his scholarly nature, this rejecting attitude of his towards books in particular stands out in the novel.  By including books in his negative view of a manmade environment outside of nature, Jacob indirectly and offhandedly is rejecting the ultimate book, The Torah.  The word of the bible is being attached to man’s creation, not God’s.  This characteristic helps to highlight the story of Original Sin as an explanatory product of the male psyche.
Singer helps to emphasize the connection between femininity and nature through the bond of fertility through more than just romanticized description.  Even darker descriptions can be found in the novel after the death of Wanda. “He awoke and it was day.  Coils of mist hovered over the naked fields.  A crow flew low and croaked.  At the edge of the horizon to his left a forest stretched like a sash of blue, and emerging from it like the head of a newborn child, small and bloody red, came the sun.” (Singer 252).  This simile helps to connect the relationship between femininity and the natural world by making a less than appealing yet effective reference to fertility.  The inclusion of blood in the description helps to highlight the taboos of perceived impurity in feminine sexuality while simultaneously including references to the first six days of creation in genesis embodied in the details of mist, animals, and the forest.
The Slave’s emphasis on women’s inferior societal position as well as the seemingly divine power of femininity to create life helps to create awareness of such a dichotomy.  It is this comprehension of the conflicting holy power of femininity and the mortally created designation of feminine inferiority that allows so pious a Jew as Jacob to sin by lying with and even marrying Wanda, a non-Jew.  Jacob sins against man’s religion, but remains true to God’s.  Isaac Singer’s novel develops the struggle between feminine power and female inferiority in stunning fashion, illuminating the faults of man and the perfection of God.


Sunday, December 5, 2010

An Accounting of Time


 The following is a single day's account of my own contemplations.  I wrote each excerpt randomly throughout the past year in the back of a notebook of mine.  I decided to finally put them all together and post them here.  Structured by a linear concept of time, these personal and often highly critical passages of mine are a tribute to the illusion of time in general.  Throughout the development of this work, I was also reading a book by Allen Lightman entitled Einstein's Dreams.  The book itself is a series of vignettes based around a small town in Switzerland where Albert Einstein was once a Patent Clerk.  Each chapter described a reality drastically altered by the function of time.  Each vignette essentially applies an element or concept of Special Relativity, hence the title of the book.  I believe Relativity is a result of time's illusory qualities.  Phillip K. Dick's bizarre experience which I blogged about earlier along with Buddhist concepts of time as not existing in the form of a past, present, and future but rather simply in the here and now hint at this as well. The account of mine which I have gathered together and posted below speaks to the struggles of living within time's illusion.  This struggle is the same struggle that interpreters of the Bible must deal with, whether they realize it or not.

8:30 AM.
            Good morning.  Alarm clocks are my least favorite greeting.  Mine has a flat, digital tone.  A cacophonous annoyance and I need contacts to see.  Right now I am blind and I like it.  Shut out the world and take me back to my own.  And the clock will not stop.  Just pause it and let me stay in bed.  It’s like a vignette in Einstein’s Dreams.  The morning is like an alternative reality.  The more you want time to slow down, the faster it speeds up.  People try all their lives to live a little longer, and when they come to die, discover that they have not lived.  Oh, good morning to you too Mr. Thoreau.  
            Last night I was, once again, too motivated for my own good.  Rolling over to face the ceiling, I discover the result of my nocturnal habits.  C-A-R-P-E D-I-E-M.  Written on nine blank sheets of printing paper, ordered, and sticky-tacked, it grips the plaster directly over my head.  I planned this out.  Each black letter takes an entire sheet of paper.  Good job Dan.  You wasted paper and thought ahead at the same time.  Without contacts, I cannot even see the numbers on my clock, but I can see these letters.  I can read this.  It reminds me of the E on the top of those vision charts.  I planned this out.
            C-A-R-P-E N-O-C-T-E-M would probably be a more accurate phrase to describe my lifestyle.  Even my mind is more active after sunset.  But it would be redundant to put that on my ceiling.  I do not need help in that area.  I need help waking up.  Thank you 3:00 AM motivation.  Carpe Diem is getting me out of bed.

12:43 PM.
            I am late.  The corner of my computer says 12:43 PM.  I slam it closed and pull myself off the couch.  My legs strain and ache as I stand up.  My muscles are torn from working out.  Self-improvement comes with a price.  Or maybe it is just vanity.  I quickly move into the dining room with my open, ugly, dark green backpack hanging from my fingertips.  I swing it on to a chair and snatch my yellow folder and shove it in.  Stray paper crinkles but who cares?  I am late.  I believe my watch is taunting me as the second hand moves closer to the ninth dash on the left.  I try to be carefree but I suppose I am often ruled by time like so many others.  As long as I don’t start worshipping it the way they do in another one of the vignettes in Einstein’s Dreams, I know I have not completely lost myself.  But I am still late.
            Throwing the backpack over my shoulder, I run out the door, down the crumbling concrete steps and onto the wet pavement.  The wet comes from melting slabs of ice resting in jagged strips on the road, grey and speckled with grit.  Water falls from roofs, twigs, gutters, everything.  Melting.  The dripping reminds me of this movie I used to watch when I was young.  I always remember this beautiful song in the background.  “We’re walking in the air.”  Other than that, it was a short, silent, animated film.  It was called The Snowman.  This little boy makes a snowman.  The snowman comes to life, and they travel to the North Pole and see Santa Clause together.  The next day, the boy comes out of his house to find the snowman has melted.  As a little boy myself, I use to cry at this part.  The Snowman is the only movie I have ever cried in.
            I am now hurrying along the sidewalk trying to get to class in time.  The sunlight reflecting off the damp street and the brown puddles, like reflecting pools for parasites, feels as if it is slapping my eyeballs.  I have to squint.  My watch says 12:44.
            I reach a fork leading to my destination.  A shortcut through soggy grass and slush.  I glance at my shoes.  They are new.  White K-Swiss Limited Editions.  Limited Editions that were probably sold everywhere for a long time before the line was discontinued at a price fifteen bucks more than the other K-Swiss choices.  Still, they are that new white that never lasts.  Some people hate that blinding shade and others try to preserve it as long as they can.  I like to savor that out of the box glare. 
            So now I have a choice.  Do I sacrifice the shoes for the sake of time, or do I sacrifice the time for the sake of the shoes?  In sacrificing one, am I then being ruled by the other?  Now my shoes and my watch are taunting me simultaneously.  Consumerism and schedules.  Whatever.  I take the shortcut.
            Soon I reach the hallway to my classroom.  The door is closed.  Class started already and now I am officially late.  Everyone loves to glance around at you when you enter late.  I reach the door, open it, and walk in.  Everyone glances around at me.  What a surprise.  I was two minutes late.  The professor ignores me as I take my seat.  My shoes are dirty.  It doesn’t even matter. 

2:12 PM.
So much of life is trivial.  So much of life is bullshit.  My brother once told me 95 percent of life was bullshit.  I try and focus on the 5 percent that matters.  In the words of Forest Gump, “That’s all I got to say about that.”

3:45 PM.
            I am in my honors class.  It is called “Imagination”.  The first day of class I think we had to define the word “Imagination”.  Actually I do not even remember the first day, but I bet that is exactly what we did.  I believe imagination is that intangible essence of mind that creates.  We too often confine the definition to creations of art, literature, and so on.  Based on my definition, every thought, feeling, and response is part of the imagination.  Every product of my mind is a product of my imagination.  My voice.  My inner-conversation.  My inner-monologue.
            I must be paying attention.

7:43 PM.
            The local Co-op constantly reminds me of my life plan.  Come to think of it, not a single grocery store, shopping mall, or Wal-Mart will let me forget it. 
I am actually writing this while sitting on a toilet.  It is a surprisingly good place to do so.  I pride myself on the fact that I have read entire books solely while on the toilet.  No, I do not read whole books during a single bathroom break.  I am not a speed-reader.  I am not constipated.  It takes a long time to read a book this way, but it is worth it.  Every public stall should have a magazine rack.  Every household bathroom should have a bookshelf.  If the world did this, maybe we would be a smarter population. 
Anyway, on with my grocery store explanation.  In my junior year of high school, I distinctly remember walking into the local Co-op to buy lunch.  I was wandering the isles when suddenly I opened my ears to all the conversations around me.  I would switch my focus from one dialogue to another as I moved through the store.  In psychology, they call this the “Cocktail Party Effect”, when you can select and listen to specific individuals even among a crowd of gab.  Essentially, I was eavesdropping.  Eavesdropping on segments of everyday life within the Co-op.  That is when the moment came.  My moment.  “Which oranges should we get?”  “I hate two percent” “I need to pick up some Emergen-C for Susan.” “Don’t get skim.” “This one has too many calories.” “That’ll be $23.68.” 
Mediocrity is my greatest fear.  All those people living their lives.  What are they living for?  How do they feel about 9 to 5, Monday to Friday?  I despise it and I am terrified of it.  These people live mundane, monotonous lives and I refuse to end up like them.
In hindsight this was perhaps a rather judgmental generalization on my part, but that is not the point.  The point is, in that moment I decided to make sure my life would not end up as some mediocre, ineffectual existence.  I want to do something great.  I want to die feeling accomplished.  Accomplished and complete. 
That was my metamorphosis.  When Kafka turned Gregor Samsa into an insect, the flaws of the members of his family became blatantly apparent.  Some might say his transformation forced his family to become better people, even though they remained incredibly flawed through to the last page.   They morphed too.  If I never forget my moment, if I remain transformed, will everyone around me become better too?  Probably not.  Despite everyone else, this path is worth it.

11:16 PM.
            The past few hours I have been thinking about paths.  Borges’ paths are the kinds of paths I am thinking about.  Not just any old path in any old garden.  I am thinking about the metaphorical ones.  My choices and my life.  I should not take myself too seriously.  People probably should not take most of life too seriously.  95 percent of it anyway.  There are endless choices to endless scenarios.  Luckily I usually do not get too caught up in it.  Or at least, I do not think I do.  I am glad I am not a whining baby like T.S. Eliot.  “Do I dare/ Disturb the universe?” “So how should I presume?”  I am glad I am a product of Postmodernism.  Apparently the previous age could not handle the complexity of a technologically advanced world.  It reminds me of the generational divide that makes itself most apparent in department store checkout lines.  The self-checkout always has the younger, more computer literate generation.  Of course, this is not always true, but it seems like just about everyone over the age of forty has to go through the assisted checkout. 
            Paths.  I almost forgot.  I really do think Robert Frost was right.  Taking the path less traveled by will make all the difference.



11:56 PM.
“Hole in the Earth” by Deftones.  I hear this song and something inside is pulled to the floor.  Take a net and toss it over your heart and let the weights carry it to the bottom.  Rock bottom.  What is it even about?  This song.   
I replay my day, from when I was listening to it on repeat for nearly an hour.  Who does that?  I was reading Never Let Me Go in the sunlight.  Upon a warm blanket lain across the dewy green grass, I bathed my body in the sun and my mind in the story.  I guess that explains my feeling.  The song reminds me of the book, and there goes my heart again.  Yet this feeling has more.  It’s not just from some book.  I’m thinking of Hannah.  Let me remember and keep me solid.  I will not break and I will not feel.  But my god let me remember.  It’s too tempting not to.

The seats are hard.  Of curving smooth wood laminate, stained dark for visual appeal, they are synthetic and uncomfortable.  Perhaps they are intended to keep the audience conscious, for orchestras and choirs often work as lullabies rather than performances.  I never noticed the natural protrusions of bones in my back until attempting to settle in hopes of a more restful state.  The lights dim, my eyes train to center stage where risers have been arranged for the coming presentation.  The air feels thick and stifling atop the balcony, like a sauna with invisible steam.  After a short wait, the choir begins its procession onto the risers.  Watching the uniformed black dresses of scratchy cotton moving fluidly into position, I search for her.  Expecting only golden hair slung low to her shoulders as the single familiar characteristic from far up in the highest of seats, my eventual recognition surprises me.  More than her hair identifies her as I gaze.  That stride and the swing of her arms signals a pleasant familiarity.
            Organized, row after row, like a single organism rather than individuals, they stand ready.  The audience is quieting and, though less unified, less professionalized, the viewers appear as another larger being anticipating the coming entertainment.  A motley beast impatient for a muse’s songBabble fades to murmur and the murmurs fade to silence.
            And then it begins
.  The melody commences at the jump of the conductor’s hands.  The audience watches the choir but I watch her.  And suddenly I am not watching her.  I am with her.  For me, the music hall dissipates into darkness.  Like vision through a tunnel, the choir surrounding her disperses into the depths, but the song remains.  She remains.
            Green replaces the yellow tinged theaterSunlight and cool earth make a utopian contrast.  The new breeze undoes the stale and sleepy effects of the stagnant air residing in the upper rows.  A luscious scent from the herbal life mixed with the seasoning of pine tugs me further from that prior must of artificiality.  My seat reclines.  Grass sprouts from the chair and the hard wood crumbles to dirt. My shoulder blades now press comfortably into the natural cushion of earth below.  Rather than watching her from a distance, squinting to see the hints of her features from the balcony, I instead look up to her graceful outline blocking the glare of the sun above.  The dimness is gone.  The stuffiness is gone.  I am gone.  Oblivion. 
Her eyes, grey beneath flecks of varying hues of blue, peer through strands of gold.  A narrowed face of contours perfect in design smiles down at me. Her hair cascades around me like a canopy of amber. First a flowery fragrance, and then a gentle kiss.
            The glimpse suddenly fades as the rhythm of the music changes.  The mid-day park transforms to a hillside trail. Raised outcroppings cast shadows over the dry, scraggly clearing from the sideways light.  But the scene is not hidden, for I can still spy the last switchback leading to a bench.  It occupies a pair staring breathlessly to the west.  They are watching the falling sun emanate the colors of heat, yet the air ebbs towards a coming cold.  The final light cast defines beams of yellow constructed by some distant cloud.  Like doorways to the heavens pulling closed, the sun slips behind the outlined mountains and the rays quickly disappear.  Yet the presence of the couple is that which brings beauty to the scene.  Unlike the fading sun, they choose to remain.  I watch us from a memory.
            Again the vision shifts into obscurity.  The glow of the sun has changed.  Before it was red from the atmosphere, and now it is red from the artificial glass covering.  Two of them identical, appeared from the darkness.  Brake lights intrude on the consistency of night as the car reaches the end of the driveway. A flash of blond, matted from the rain, whips through the dark tinted windows as the car quickly turns and drives out of sight.  And then only I remain.  The wind is harsh and unforgiving.  The raindrops batter the world, and leaves are ripped from their twigs.  Whispers of the fall that could have floated in the tempest are drowned to silence by the sorrow.
            And then, like the others, that scene fades into the depths of my mind as well.  A history remembered blends with the choir rhythm as it begins the crescendo of its final line.  The last dramatic note is belted and then the music ceases as precisely as it had begun.  A moment’s pause and then applause and yet, where have I gone?  Watching not the girl with gold and blue from just the balcony but instead from a memory, I have reminisced.  A concert from the fall before, my mind recalls how I would fade to glimpses from within.  Experiences replaced my high-rise view of the music hall, yet the melody carried through the visions.  Reliving the concert now, my thoughts still wander as they had.  Yet appearing to ignore chronology, my mind brings memories created after the music, tuning them to the choir’s carol.  
            To the present I re-enter, and the story only she and I do know.  And to all else, who in frustration wonder, let them discover for themselves a story of their own.

Back to reality.  Good evening and thank you for the relapse.  I thoroughly enjoyed the sights, sounds, and pain.  Now end it, close it, and be gone.
            It’s gone. 

            4:15 AM
It may be that I only find peace in absolute oblivion.  Amid the nothingness, devoid of that which is petty and that which is meaningful.  Fact and fiction intermingle.  My perceived reality and my imagination blend and it all just fades away.  I fade.  Goodbye.  Goodbye to all you annoyances, to all you ideas and thoughts that I will probably forget.  Take all of your baggage and flee from me.  You too, Thomas Wyatt.  Exit my mind and I will escape from you, you infestation upon my tranquility.
            It is impossible to focus on oblivion.  Oblivion ought to focus on you.  Be stupid and imperceptible and you are lucky enough to fall asleep.  Be smart and you’re the dumbest of them all.  I think I was coming close to oblivion just now but then I tried too hard.
            Oh rid me of insomnia.  Let me be productive when I should be, but not within the depths of the dead hour when everyone else can rest.
            So much for that nearly acquired, enviable, dreamless sleep.  Here comes another needless 4:00 hours of violent unconsciousness.
            Oblivion.  You have betrayed me.  Good night.           
           

Time is an Illusion

The other day in class a story about the author Philip K. Dick was mentioned.  I had heard the story before in the movie, "Waking Life".  I know someone already beat me to the punch when it comes to posting the scene in Waking Life where the story is told, so I figured I would at least post the whole movie.  The link is below.  The scene describing Philip K. Dick's story can be found at 1:25:30. 

http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=7583894250854515095#

Perhaps this story is a total coincidence.  Perhaps not.  But that is not the point.  The point of the story is to reduce time to a falsity.  The inclusion of the Book of Acts is a rather elegant addition to the question of time, for the Book of Acts is certainly chronologically relativistic in its stories and descriptions.  In very broad terms, the Book of Acts describes the works and trials of the apostles after the ascension of Jesus Christ.  Recounting miracles such as "speaking in tongues" to crowds so that when the apostles preached to spread Christianity, every person heard their sermons in their own language, this book of the bible describes the spread of Christianity after the Pentecost.

If we refuse to confine ourselves to literal interpretations, the Book of Acts is quite remarkable as an account that appears to be confined to a specific place in time, but actually describes the general pattern of Christianity through the last 2000 years.  Lets begin with the "speaking in tongues" issue.  So the apostles are talking to a crowd and even though everyone in the crowd speaks different languages, they all hear the message of the apostles.  Already we have assumed that time in this account exists.  By assuming that there exists a past, present, and future, we also assume that this story takes place at a specific place, at a specific time, and since we do not perceive this account to be currently happening in our specific place and time, we assume the event to be localized in the past.  Including time and assuming the story recounts a single moment, we are forced to assume the apostles are ONLY Jesus' disciples, the crowd was a gathering of local people living ONLY when Jesus' apostles were around, approximately 2000 years ago, and the variety of languages spewing from the mouths of the apostles occurred in that specific instant as nothing other than an act of God.  Now delete time altogether.  By erasing time's existence, everything else in the story breaks down, and yet it arguably becomes more beautiful.  If this story is not limited to place and time, then the apostles represent anyone in the past 2000 years who has preached the word of Christianity.  Therefore, the crowd must include anyone in the past 2000 years who has been preached to and eventually converted.  Taking these things into account, we can then argue that this specific instant in the Book of Acts describes the spread of Christianity east to Constantinople after the first Christian Emperor Constantine of Rome converted the empire.  It describes the spread of Christianity north into Europe, the eventual creation of the Holy Roman Empire in today's Germany, the Crusades, the bringing of Christianity to the 'New World' by the Conquistadors, Puritans, and many others, and so on.  Through thousands of years and thousands of cultures, The Bible has been taught in thousands of tongues.  It is time's illusion that creates this seemingly literal miracle in the Book of Acts. By deconstructing time, our interpretation of this story is loosened, the miracle becomes a reality, and the story becomes a history.

Some would say that this blasphemous interpretation degrades God by explaining away a miracle, but these people have missed the point.  Is not the spread of a religion around the world by its followers a miracle for that religion in itself?  Miracles with explanations can still be miracles can't they?  Too many people get fixated by the supposed supernatural essence of the miraculous.  By eliminating time altogether,  the Book of Acts hits closer to home.  This story is not talking about events in history, it is talking about right now.  Right now is an instant, and it is eternity.