A Poem. "Two Dreams." A Tribute to Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.

This is a response to Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.'s "I Have a Dream" speech, 50 years later.

Dreams come in two varieties:

            Weak-Wispy dreams,
            and Prophetic-Powerful dreams
Dreams that we reach towards and do not attain
and Dreams that reach toward us,
            that grip us
            and that do not let go.
      Dreams that arrest us
      Dreams that give us Hope
            and Hope does not disappoint
            for God has poured out His Love
            for God is the One
                        who gave us Dreams in the first place
            for God is the One
                        who fulfills the Dreams He has given.

There are Dreams that, like the flower,
            fade and blow away,
and then there are Dreams that
            become more substantial, not ghostly,
            as the Light shines, as the Day dawns,
                        as the Real usurps the false reality
                        of the Unreal,
                        as the kingdoms of the world
                        become the Kingdom of our God and King,
                        as the City coming down from Heaven
                        becomes the shining City on a Hill
                        which was prophetically declared by
                                    the King Himself.

There are Dreams that pass us by
            like cars on the interstate,
            like houses down the road,
and then there are Dreams that
            bring Revelation
            that open our eyes
            that transform our thinking
            that renew our understanding
            that change our world.


There are Dreams that die
and then there are Dreams
            worth dying for.

(Ian Edward Caveny, 08/07/13)

The Myth of the Myth.

Recently I read perhaps one of the most profound works of literature that I have ever laid eyes upon. Considered a classic of the fantasy genre, The Last Unicorn by Peter S. Beagle is, in my thoughts, the perfect fairy tale. It is far more than its title or plot might reveal. The simple of the story is that of a unicorn who journeys to go and find the rest of her kind. Along the way she meets Schmendrick, a failed magician with a great destiny, and Molly Grue, a brusque bandit woman, and they journey together to find the unicorns.

But the brilliance of this novel lies not in its plot, but in its amazing moments of revelation. Throughout the story, there seems to be this idea that the Unicorn (and other Immortal beings) are "more real" than the world around them. For example, when the Unicorn is captured by Madame Fortuna, Schmendrick notes the witch's mistake in capturing two Immortals: "She should have never done it, never meddled with a real harpy, a real unicorn. The truth melts her magic, always..." (The Last Unicorn, 26)

This idea is epitomized in a brilliant discussion between Schmendrick and Molly Grue. Schmendrick, as wizards often do in fantasy novels (see Fizban, &c.), breaks the fourth wall and says:

"...'Haven't you ever been in a fairy tale before? ... The hero has to make a prophecy come true, and the villain is the one who has to stop him -- though in another kind of story, it's more often the other way around. And a hero has to be in trouble from the moment of his birth, or he's not a real hero. It's a great relief to find out about Prince Lír. I've been waiting for this tale to turn out a leading man.'  

The unicorn was there as a star is suddenly there, moving a little way ahead of them, a sail in the dark. Molly said, 'If Lír is the hero, what is she?' 

'That's different. Haggard and Lír and Drinn and you and I -- we are in a fairy tale, and must go where it goes. But she is real. She is real.'" 

                                                               (The Last Unicorn, 108-109)

And Schmendrick's statement vastly reinterprets the entire tale. As a reader, we thought we were reading a tale about a unicorn searching for others of her kind. But Schmendrick tells us that the Unicorn isn't a part of the story at all -- she's just gliding through. She's real, and the rest are all just parts and pieces of the story that she's floating into. (And more about her interaction with the real world in a later post.)

 As I read this incredible book, a profound thought came to my mind. What if "the last unicorn" (in the book) is truly The Last Unicorn (the book itself)? What if the entire story is self-referential, and that the very same Unicorn who wanders out of the woods in search of the others is that same story in which she is contained? (Making this tale similar, in one sense, to House of Leaves' self-reference -- for the book, as well as the house, is a labyrinth, holding a monster that might be a Minotaur and might not be a Minotaur within...)

Just like the Unicorn, the book is hidden in plain sight. When she first leaves her woods, the people do not see her, but see a beautiful white mare. Beautiful, but not Immortal. Not "Other." (I would almost use the word "Holy," but only for its sense of "Otherness," not for its sense of "Goodness.") In fact, the people have such a problem in seeing the Unicorn for what she is that the witch actually has to enchant her so people believe that she is a unicorn! Likewise, The Last Unicorn sits on shelves as a beautiful white mare -- -- but I am convinced that should a Schmendrick or Molly Grue pick it up, they will recognize they true Myth of this work.

And that is why this book is fantastic. The plot is good, the setting general fantasy, the characters caricatured, the writing is poetic, but the Myth is profound. In fact, it is likely the most profoundly Mythological (in my sense, see the introduction to this blog) novel that I have ever read. C.S. Lewis praised George MacDonald for being a Myth-Maker, but this novel is perhaps an even truer Myth than Phantases or Lilith, because it is a Myth about Myth. It is the Myth of the Myth as she searches for Myth in the midst of a Fairy Tale, which is a different kind of Myth.

Again, like the Unicorn, this novel is hard to catch and hard to see. It is hard to pin down. I finished reading it two or three weeks ago, and I am just now finding words to write a little bit about it. The Last Unicorn, itself a unicorn, hides in the thicket, runs quite quickly, and is very difficult to hold, tie up, or wrangle.

And... that is okay, actually. That is, perhaps, one of the morals of the story. Haggard appreciates the Myth so much that he locks them all away by brute force in the ocean. In a sense, Haggard is much like the Judge from Blood Meridian, discontent with anything existing outside of his permission. He despises Mystery. But for Myth to be beautiful, it must have Mystery. (C.S. Lewis, again, posits this in his autobiographical work, Surprised by Joy - as does G.K. Chesterton in his chapter about Romance in Heretics.)

If I were to bring a hard exposition down on The Last Unicorn, I would rob the Unicorn of its freedom, capture it with the harsh logic of my Red Bull, and lock it away in the sea where it is not free, it is not beautiful, and, most importantly, it has no power to renew the world. So, I'm alright with this novel being difficult to explain. It is more subtle and more mysterious than that.

My intention here, then, is to open your eyes, should you read it. To allow you, like Schmendrick or Molly Grue, to recognize the Unicorn for what she is, and to accept the Mystery.

A Poem: "Refreshed by Beauty."

I am refreshed through Beauty –
whether the sublime tones of music,
            that liquid art, that flowing creativity!
or through the concrete traces of art,
            though solid, flows
            though firm, moves
            though unchangeable, changes
or, perhaps, the ethereal reaches of the sky
            with its empyreal heights
            and the Sun on its throne,
                        directing all beneath it. 

I am revitalized – brought to life –
as I see my pen form letters
            and letters, words
            and words, phrases
            and phrases, poetry,
                        literature, story, myth

What is the role of the Artist, I wonder?
To capture Beauty, or to set it free?
            To create Beauty, or to organize it?
And how is it that such a thing
can restore my bleeding life
            which drains as I live
            and seeps away – –

Until, again, I am refreshed by Beauty.

 

(Ian Edward Caveny, 08/06/2013)

Totemism and American Politics.

Today, I took a little time out of my day to read another chapter of Claude Lévi-Strauss' The Savage Mind, which I will undoubtedly discuss more in depth at a later date (Mr. Lévi-Strauss says quite a bit about the nature of Myth - in particular, concerning a structural interpretation of Mythology...).

One of the key things that Lévi-Strauss investigates in the book (and, actually, throughout his career as an anthropologist) are the totem relationships of tribal peoples. For those not familiar with totemism, here's a brief survey:

• members of a totem-clan are determined by patri- or matri-lineal relationships
• members of a totem-clan revere a particular animal (or, in some instances, plant or natural) spirit -- as such, they do not eat (or disturb) that particular totem
• members of a totem-clan are forbidden from marrying inside of their totem and from marrying a rival totem-clan
• and, of course, there are systems of religious stories and ritual that are associated uniquely with each totem-clan

(It is not without some value to also add that this whole concept of totemism is what lead Sigmund Freud to develop his concepts of incest and taboo relationships -- which is further developed in his book Totem and Taboo.)

As I look at these totemic systems from tribal peoples, I'm reminded that... well... people are people. The human race, looked at clearly through the lens of history, hasn't really changed as much as our Postmodern world would like to believe. One of the most freeing realizations, actually, has been the fact that human thought has actually not "advanced" in the modern era, but has really simply consisted of the same elements in different forms. Now, instead of animal sacrifice, we appease the gods of commercialism through the sacrifice of abstract concepts, time and money. ... ... But I get ahead of myself.

The thing that I realized was this: Totemism still exists today. Rather than explaining it initially, I will show it:



Freud analyzed the psychological implications of totemism, and Lévi-Strauss looked at the anthropological (and mythological) implications -- I'm going to look at the sociological implications.

Like these two men, I am making one major assumption with this post: that is, that humans look at the world around them and divide it into logical groups. Then, humans will likewise divide themselves into logical groups. I want to make this assumption clear because I do not believe that such partisan division is a value of the Kingdom of God. This post will be making the assumption of an unredeemed humanity -- ie. a divided humanity. Totemism should not exist in a Christian community. The reason why I make this clear should be evident soon enough.

In The Noble Savage, Lévi-Strauss makes the claim that the "primitive" man is just as intellectual as the "civilized" man -- and that his systematic classification is just as (if not more) developed as the Western Europeans' Linnaean taxonomy. This type of classification, which echoes Adam naming the animals, or Solomon describing them, is actually a natural part of human psychology. The education psychologist Jean Piaget discussed at length the way that humans separate and organize things.

In totemism, a group takes those divisible elements and affiliates themselves with it. So, a tribe that is physiologically swift might be the Hare tribe; or a tribe that is renown for its medicine men might be the Owl tribe, or, better yet, the Herb tribe. Upon making that association, the tribe develops ritual and stories that connect them with their totem animal (or plant, &c.) and so forth... Part of this ritual also distinguishes and organizes how one tribe relates with other tribes. So, the Hare might be in an "enemy" relationship with the Owl (who eats hare) and the Panther, but they might be in a "friendly" relationship with the Carrot tribe. Or something like that.

As is true for all anthropology, it would seem logical to say that these types of relationships apply today. Take the school-yard for instance. In the public school (particularly in a small school -- -- in a larger school these groups become more fluid and dynamic), the jocks have a particular relationship with the cheerleaders and a different type of relationship with the preps and a different relationship with the nerds. And each of these "totemic tribes" have their own "totem" [ie. symbolic similarity -- though in the high school these are more abstract concepts than concrete] and their own "rites and rituals" [for example, weight-lifting, for the jocks].

Politics, in particular, create an interesting form of totemism. I got the idea from a section in The Noble Savage in which some French intellectuals were discussing the different between the Bonapartists and the Orleanists. And I realized, with almost disjointed horror, that the whole American political system is an oversimplified view of totemic relationships! The slow, steady elephant and the quick, bullheaded donkey ... How perfect!

There are certain rites and rituals that Democrats and Republicans have -- which is why when the Democrats talk about gun-control, the Republicans respond in rage; or why when the Republicans talk about bringing Creationism into schools, the Democrats shake their heads. Don't get me wrong, I'm not simplifying American politics into some sort of religious system -- -- there are reasons why their ideologies support or don't support certain things. But what I am saying is that the American political system has become a two-tribe totemic system, which refuses relationship with the other totem.

In fact, recently a new totem has emerged -- that is, the Tea Party -- and it shows some sort of relationship with the Elephant, but it bites at the Donkey's heel to make fall over (kinda like the tribe of Dan).

Why does any of this matter? So, our political system seems to reflect "primitive" systems of social organization -- why should I care? (And I hope you do care -- this is a long blog post!) My concern is a simple one: two (or even three) tribe rule is dangerous for a large civilization. It creates a dangerous homogeneity which is necessary for the success of our country -- particularly since we are talking about America. Because of the pressures created by the totemic tribes, it is impossible for a progressive to be pro-life, and it is impossible for a conservative to be for government regulation. This type of "mold-fitting" socialization is dangerous for any society. (This is why I said that totemic systems are not a part of the Kingdom of God -- because the people of God break such homogenizing boundaries. That being said, there are cliques and divisions within the Body of Christ that fall into tribalistic thinking.)

The development of the Snake tribe [the Tea Party], though I disagree with its purpose and onset, shows a need for some "elbow space" in American politics. But it also develops into a disparity of power as well, since the Snake was formed from members of the Elephant [the GOP]. I am not sure how (or if) a power-balance will develop, nor if some sort of loosening of tribal bounds might be discovered -- but I think both are important for the growth and success of our country. [Of course, this is said from a primarily secular position -- -- as a Christian, I say that there are other, more vital and moral and spiritual things, necessary for our country.]

Again, there's a danger in becoming initiated into one of these "tribes," because they influence many parts of their members' lives. A structural reorganization, or, ideally, a freedom from totemism, are important steps for us as Americans. But, unfortunately, that is an unlikely reality.