Although I love words, lately, I have been reluctant to use them, at least not in writing, so I expect blogging to be light for a few days. Perhaps this is because I have been up to my ears in reading (and writing) for class; I have also been busy with other obligations.
When I have had a moment to spare, I have been more introspective than expressive (so to speak). Perhaps some of my ideas will find their way into future posts. Class reading has also kept me thinking. One or our assigned books, Maya Deren’s, Divine Horsemen: The Living Gods of Haiti , has helped open my eyes to a religion which I had once thought was little more than witchcraft, concerned largely with zombies and kewpie dolls — the focus of ridicule and horror movies.
As I learn that what we call “voodoo” is far more than a cult, I wonder at many things we misunderstand. In reading just a few pages of Deren’s book, we learn how the Voudoun religion developed when European colonists brought West Africans to Caribbean islands as slaves. Those enslaved people developed a new religion, mixing elements of their African spiritual heritage with the Christian tradition of their masters. A rich faith, as complex and nuanced as Christianity, Judaism or even the ancient Greek religion, resulted.
When I compare what the Voudoun religion really is to what I had thought just a month ago, I wonder if many on the Left see the GOP as I once saw (what most people call) “voodoo.” They define it not by what it is, but what others have portrayed it to be. We have, alas, learned about voodoo from those who wish to dismiss it as sorcery and witchcraft. Just as all too often, those on the left dismiss the GOP as a reactionary force. Both are wrong.
Much as I have come to appreciate the richness of the Voudoun tradition, I dare say I will not convert to this fascinating faith. By the same token, I would hope that those on the left would learn to appreciate the GOP for what it is — and not the caricature that its enemies have presented.
-Dan (AKA GayPatriotWest): GayPatriotWest@aol.com
Plato’s Symposium–an Ancient Work Essential to the Contemporary Conversation on Gay Relationships
I have made it no secret that I am not pleased with the caliber of the debate on gay issues. Gay writers and activists repeat the same mantras over and over again and label nearly every idea they disagree with as “anti-gay.” Their social conservative opponents are no better; they seem to think that all gay people have the same “lifestyle,” that we are incapable of committed monogamous relationships and that such relationships are little more than two individuals shacking up so that they can more easily pursue sexual dalliances.
It never occurs to those people that gay relationships can have as transformative and effect on the individuals involved as marriage has for straight individuals. And with few exceptions (for example, Andrew Sullivan’s first piece on gay marriage), it doesn’t seem to occur to gay people to talk about that “civilizing” potential of gay marriage.
Fortunately, for my class on Græco-Roman Mythology (part of my graduate program), we are required to read a book that has long been on my list of books to re-read. As I began reading Plato’s Symposium, this weekend, I realized that although that it was written 2,400 years ago, it remains the best book on gay relationships ever published. And remains as fresh as relevant today as it was in classical Athens.
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Light Blogging, “Beauty & the Beast” and Carl Jung
As I have been quite busy working on two papers for my graduate program in mythology, I have not be able to blog as regularly as I would like this week. This evening, I completed the first draft of a paper for my class in Folklore and Fairy Tales, an essay attempting an archetypal interpretation of “Beauty and the Beast.” Much as I love the Disney version, as I read older versions of the tale, I realized how much it had strayed from those “classic” versions of the story. For example, it was an evil fairy who had cursed the dashing prince to live in beastly form — and not (as in the film) a beautiful enchantress masquerading as an ugly old woman trying to teach a lesson to a “spoiled, selfish and unkind” young man.
The Disney movie does offer a power message about learning to see with the heart and about one’s ability to change, to overcome one’s faults, but in straying from the various fairy tales, the film alters the story’s original meaning.
I have just begun to outline and write my second paper for my class in Jungian Depth Psychology and as I prepare to write on individuation, I again came across a letter a patient wrote to Carl Jung which he included in his “Commentary on The Secret of the Golden Flower” in Volume 13 of his Collected Works. Reading that letter fourteen years ago (in a book on Jung by the celebrated British psychiatrist Anthony Storr) helped me overcome my doubts about accepting my feelings for men and so helped spring the proverbial closet door. I thought I would share this powerful passage with y’all:
Out of evil, much good has come tome. By keeping quiet, repressing nothing, remaining attentive, and by accepting reality-taking things as they are, and not as I wanted them to be-by doing all this, unusual knowledge has come to me, and unusual powers as well, such as I could never have imagined before. I always thought that when we accepted things they overpowered us some way or other. This turns out not to be true at all, and it is only by accepting them that one can assume an attitude towards them. So now I intend to play the game of life, being receptive to whatever comes to me, good and bad, sun and shadow forever altering, and, in this way, also accepting my own nature with its positive and negative sides. Thus everything becomes more alive to me. What a fool I was! How I tried to force everything to go according to the way I thought it ought to!
Perhaps it will have an effect on some of you similar to the one it had on me. And perhaps later, I will write a little more about how these words changed my life.
-Dan (AKA GayPatriotWest): GayPatriotWest@aol.com
Iambe and the power of laughter
One of my favorite characters in the myth of Demeter (Greek earth goddess particularly concerned with grains) and Persephone is Iambe, servant to King Celeus and Queen Metaneira of Eleusis. After Hades has abducted her daughter Persephone, Demeter wanders the world in search of her child. In her grief, disguised as an old woman, she sits down in the shade near the Virgin’s Well in Eleusis. When the daughters of the king find the goddess there, they invite her into their home. But, their hospitality cannot cheer her.
According to the “First Homeric Hymn to Demeter” (which I have been reading in this translation), the goddess did not smile, eat or drink until “the perceptive Iambe,/with jokes/and with much clowning around/forced/this sacred lady/to smile,/to laugh,/and to cheer up her spirits. It was she too/who later pleased her/in angry moments.”
Six weeks ago, I noted the power of Ruthless People, a “stupid,” but thoroughly entertaining, comedy. Even the Greeks recognized the great power of laughter. For only Iambe’s jokes and clowning around could cheer the grief-stricken goddess Demeter. So, here’s to Iambe–and the power of laughter.
Peggy Noonan–my Athena
Peggy Noonan‘s latest column reminds me yet again why I call her my Athena. The Greek goddess of war, handicrafts, industry and skill, Athena sprung fully formed–and fully armed–from the head of her father Zeus, king of the gods, whose favorite she was. In some tellings, Athena was born only after Zeus swallowed his pregnant first wife, Metis, goddess of wisdom, thus making his favorite child an incarnation of wisdom.
Peggy Noonan also incarnates a certain wisdom. Like Athena, she is a hawk. A speechwriter for Ronald Reagan, she penned an excellent memoir of her White House days, What I saw at the Revolution: A Political Life in the Reagan era. The book’s eighth chapter, “Who Was That Masked Man?” as well her her 2001 besteller, When Character was King: A Story of Ronald Reagan, capture the essence of the Gipper.
In her latest column, defending John Bolton, the president’s much (and wrongly) maligned choice for U.N. Ambassador, she notes that Bolton is not the only public figure alleged to have a bad temper. She doesn’t think however that such a bad temper should necessarily disqualify him from service:
Bad temper is a bad thing in a public servant, but it is not the worst thing. Worse is the person who judges all questions as either career-enhancing or career-retarding, who lets the right but tough choice slide if standing for it will make him controversial and therefore a target. Mr. Bolton apparently never does that. Worse is the person who doesn’t really care that the right thing be done, as long he gets his paycheck. That’s not Mr. Bolton either. Worse still is the cynic who is above caring about anything beyond his own concerns. And that isn’t Mr. Bolton either.
Emphasis added. It was that bolded (and italicized) line which reminded me of Peggy’s Athena-qualities.
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Learning the lesson of Pentheus–and honoring Dionysus
Today, I inaugurate a new topic in which I will attempt to link my passion for mythology with the real world, today (Wednesday, April 20) showing how a myth helped me better understand my unusual day. In my previous post, I noted that I had not checked the news regularly. For some reason, I couldn’t focus. Only, later, in the day, did I realize that I was learning the lesson that the Theban king, Pentheus, learned just before his demise.
Pentheus, you see, refused to honor Dionysus, the god of, among other things, wine and ecstasy. In the end, as we shall see, the god punished him severely for this dishonor. I had planned today to do, as I have done for the past few days (including the weekend) and read for my classes, then write, either for myself or this blog. I would be very productive and focus on rational endeavors.
And the day began according to plan. I woke early, took my car to the mechanic for its oil change and “checkup,” then walked to a nearby Starbucks to get my morning coffee where I read for my classes and reviewed two print-outs, one Gallup’s analysis of its recent poll on attitudes toward gay marriage, the other, a long post from Jane Galt’s blog on gay marriage. (More on both anon.)
When I learned that the work on my car would take longer than I had anticipated, I walked home, fully intending to work as hard today as I had these past few days. But, back here (at my place), I couldn’t focus. I kept trying to be practical and saying I needed to write, but gave up and ended up being idle. In short, I wasted part of the day.
Finally, just after my mechanic called to say the car was ready, I rushed out to get my car and, for some reason, decided to enjoy my walk. I would challenge myself to see if I could make the light at each crosswalk, no matter how far away I was (when the light turned green). I didn’t care if people thought I looked silly running (in my street clothes). I wanted to make this long walk — on a dull street — fun. I began to feel better.
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