Friday, July 30, 2010

The Enemy of the Good

Everyone wants to change humanity but no-one wants to change himself. - Leo Tolstoy

Men never do evil so completely and cheerfully as when they do it from religious conviction.
- Pascal (frontispiece quotations)

I recently read a novel by Michael Arditti entitled 'The Enemy of the Good' (2009). In essence it's a novel which highlights the on-going conflict between liberalism and fundamentalism and to a lesser extent, the relationship between art and religion.

The central characters are the Granville family who consist of Edwin, a retired Bishop who no longer believes in God, but continues to believe in the idea of God and the institution of the Church; his wife Marta, a survivor of the Warsaw ghetto and a distinguished anthropologist, and their two children Susannah and Clement.

Novels which debate upon contentious issues such as religious faith are few and far between these days. Ever since the scandalous debacle which followed in the wake of Salman Rushdie's 'The Satanic Verses' (1988) the battle-lines have been drawn up between adherents of liberalism and fundamentalism, resulting in artists being wary of, and fearing to offend the wrath of religious sensibilities; indeed it's with some trepidation that I myself attempt to discuss a subject which arouses stronger than ever feelings amongst some.

The beliefs of the Granville grown-up children Clement and Susannah are central to the novel . Clement, a gay artist with HIV, retains his progressive Christian faith whilst finding himself increasingly embroiled in controversy, hatred and suffering for his liberal views. His sister Susannah discovers her true spiritual identity by embracing the ultra-orthodox faith of Hasidic Judaism. These two siblings find it increasingly difficult to accept each others beliefs, as their relationship deteriorates, the view-points of liberalism and fundamentalism are clearly delineated in their spiritual and intellectual conflict. Articulating lines such as-

'Sex is one of God's greatest gifts to us. To reject it in favour of bloodless chastity is in a very real sense to reject God', and 'Fundamentalists don't think: they bray, they parrot' uttered by the gay artist Clement, clearly display which side of the fence his character represents, while his sister-in-law Carla, the widow of Clement's twin brother, unambiguously states-

'for people with no inner life, sexuality has become the all-important measure of authenticity'.

In this novel the author Michael Arditti has written a realistic portrait of religious faith in Britain today. It's a thought-provoking, lively, at times amusing, more often tragic, tale of a conflict which continues to grow in ferocity. I particularly liked Clement's astute statement upon how the all-pervasive internet has, and continues to erode aesthetic judgement -

'Memory lies at the heart of what it is to be human. In fact I'd go further: it's the reason we both need and respond to art. It's the part of our brain that creates and shapes narratives, that filters images, that draws analogies and chucks away inessentials.... Can it be an accident that, at a time when we're trusting less and less to our memories, we're growing less and less discriminating about art? We may have a world of information at our fingertips, but we've got fewer and fewer ways to assess it'.

Arditti's novel has received numerous glowing reviews far more articulate than anything I can write; the author Philip Pullman (b.1946, Norwich) for example stated of this novel -

' The Enemy of the Good' is a vivid picture of the religious life as it's lived among the conflicts and compromises of modern Britain. Michael Arditti has extended and deepened the vision that made (his) Easter so interesting, and he must be our best chronicler of the rewards and pitfalls of present day faith'.

I recommend 'The Enemy of the Good' to anyone who is interested in acquiring a greater understanding of the complex issues arising from the conflict between liberalism and fundamentalism today, albeit in the form of an entertaining and extremely well-written work of fiction.

In an age which remains obsessed with nationalism, despite two world wars which devastated Europe, I also recommend Arditti's short statement upon a vision of a united Europe.

Wednesday, July 28, 2010

Glorious Goodwood


Time to enjoy summer on the Sussex Downs for the 5 days of the Glorious Goodwood meeting; awash with strawberries and cream, Pimms, Panama hats, classy fashion and of course, classy thoroughbred horses, at what must be the most scenic of all British race-courses. Sadly, I'm only there in spirit this year, following the meeting on TV.

Vulture



The last in a short series on the symbolism of birds, in particular, in comparative religion and alchemy.

Because it devours corpses, the vulture has often been given a bad press; however, in ancient Egypt it was identified with the goddess Isis and represented the cycle of death and rebirth. In the Grecian-Roman tradition it was seen as a bird of augury, and like the swan and raven, it was considered sacred to the god Apollo because it provided omens.

In his contemplation of religious rites for the dead, Sir Thomas Browne noted in his Discourse, Urn-Burial  (1658) -

And the Persees now in India, which expose their bodies unto Vultures, and endure not so much as feretra or Biers of Wood.........

Browne was a keen scholar of comparative religion. His mention of the prophet Zoroaster and the Persee's, migratory adherents of the Zoroastrian religion, is in fact the earliest recorded in English literature.

The vulture is encountered once more in Browne's writings, this time in his surreal catalogue of books, pictures and objects entitled Museum Clausum,

A noble Quandros or Stone taken out of a Vulture's Head.

The 'noble stone' visualized by Browne may well originate from Biblical symbolism in the form of the wisdom of the book of Job. Written in the form of poetry, the book of Job is one of the oldest and profoundest spiritual texts to deal with the problem of Man's suffering. It was well-known to pious alchemists. The Bible, however much Christian Fundamentalists refuse to acknowledge it, in their denial of the discoveries of comparative religion, (see Ostrich), contains both astrological and alchemical symbolism, including imagery of refinement and dross; whilst the 'testing' of human souls is likened to the testing of metals. Chapter 28 of Job contains an inventory of various precious metals and stones, including silver, gold, topaz, their material value to contrasted to spiritual wisdom. The Book of Job also includes the line -

There is a path which no fowl knoweth, and which the vulture's eye hath not seen. (v.7 KJV)

However, the puzzle of what is exactly a 'noble stone' or Quandros, is best solved by consulting the Martin Ruland's Dictionary of Alchemy, (both father and son were named Martin Ruland). The Rulands were theologically inclined Paracelsian physicians who served in the Court of Emperor Rudolph II of Prague. In their Dictionary of Alchemy (1612), a book which Browne owned, (Sales Catalogue page 22 no.119) a Quandros is defined as-

a Stone or Jewel which is found in the brain and head of the Vulture, and is said to be of a bright white colour. It fills the breasts with milk, and is said to be a safeguard against dangerous accidents.

 Ruland's dictionary definition of a 'noble Stone' is in all probability the source of Browne's Quandros. Such an object would be an extremely useful talisman!

Sunday, July 25, 2010

Ostrich


More avian facts and speculation in relation to Sir Thomas Browne and avian symbolism; here's the Ostrich, the largest of all birds and flightless.

I've occasionally wondered just how Browne actually managed to acquire an ostrich. Here's how I deductively speculate he might have.......Edward Browne, his eldest son, who lived in London, had access to the Royal Court of Charles II. Sometime during the 1670's the King of Morocco's ambassador gave as a gift of good-will, no less than six ostriches to Charles II; shortly after the novelty of viewing these rare birds abated for the Royal Court of Saint James Palace, Edward made so bold as to request sending one to his father. Remembering that King Charles had been acquainted with the Browne's senior and junior, since his visit to Norwich in September 1671, engaging in extended conversation with both father and son, it's not improbable that King Charles II could have indulged the dutiful son and zoologically inclined father. Unless of course there were other paths by which Browne could have acquired an ostrich . Do tell! With more than a dash of tolerant astonishment, Browne writes of the ostrich-

When it first came into my garden, it soon ate up all the gilliflowers, tulip-leaves, and fed greedily upon what was green, as lettuce, endive, sorrell; it would feed on oats, barley, peas, beans; swallow onions; eat sheep's lights and livers. When it took down a large onion, it stuck awhile in the gullet, and did not descend directly, but wound backward behind the neck; whereby I might perceive that the gullet turned much; but this is not peculiar to the ostrich; but the same hath been observed in the stork, when it swallows down frogs and pretty big bits. It made a strange noise; had a very odd note, especially in the morning, and perhaps, when hungry.... If wearing of feather-fans should come up again, it might much increase the trade of plumage from Barbary.

It would appear from the above quotation that ostrich-feathers have been a fluttering element of ladies fashion for many generations now; while among the many creatures discussed in Browne's encyclopaedia Pseudodoxia Epidemica a chapter is devoted to the ostrich which debates upon the common misapprehension, 'That the ostrich digesteth iron'. (Bk 3: Ch.22)

Browne's study of bird-life in Norfolk was extensive enough to assist with notes, descriptions and illustrations of various birds to John Ray (1627-1705) and Francis Willoughby (1635-72) for the first definitive work upon British birds entitled Ornithologia (first published in London 1678). A copy of it is listed as once in Browne's library. (1711 Catalogue p.18 no.33)

Evidence that Browne was familiar with the gentleman's sport of Falconry exists in the form of a short surviving tract on hawks and falconry (Tract V). In Religio Medici he uses imagery associated with falconry terms:

thus I teach my haggard and unreclaimed reason to stoop unto the lure of faith ( R.M. 1:10)

It's also in Religio Medici that an extraordinary example of cosmic avian symbolism occurs - a likening of the act of incubation to the Creation:

This is that gentle heat that brooded on the waters, and in six days hatched the world; (R.M.I:32)

Thoughts on birds and perhaps upon alchemy also, preoccupied Browne's mind late in his life, when compiling Museum Clausum, an inventory of imaginary or lost, books, pictures and objects which includes the curio-

A large Ostrich's Egg, whereon is neatly and fully wrought that famous battle of Alcazar, in which three Kings lost their lives.

The battle in which three Kings lost their lives refers to the historical battle of Alcazar, Northern Morocco, in 1578 when Portugal and a large Ottoman Army fought against the Moroccans.

But it's also possible to interpret this image as an allusion to the operations of an alchemist working in his 'elaboratory', for the apparatus capable of acid-dissolving in it 'stomach' was nick-named, 'the ostrich' by alchemists. Although only the egg of an ostrich is named here, the egg itself was also a common symbol in alchemy, representing death and re-birth. Far less tenuous is the fact that the three substances believed to be the foundation of all life by alchemists, namely Salt, Sulphur and Mercury, were alluded to in alchemical tracts as none other than three Kings.

The alchemist in his 'elaboratory' witnessed the 'death' and 'rebirth' of substances. The substance of mercury or 'quicksilver' as it was sometimes known, 'quick' signifying its 'living' qualities as a liquid metal, in particular, fascinated alchemists.

Doubts that Browne was only peripherally involved in laboratory alchemy evaporate in his confession in Religio Medici-

I have often beheld as a miracle, that artificial resurrection and revivification of Mercury, how being mortified into thousand shapes it assumes again its own, and returns into its numerical self. (R.M. Part 1:48)

But perhaps the real alchemy here is none other than Browne's selection and conjoining of an unusual artifact to an historical event; for both object and event share the provenance of North Africa. Browne displays a witty and refined aesthetic sensibility in his conjuring of a neat and fully wrought delineation of a battle upon an egg! He is after all, the aesthete who openly confessed-

I can look a whole day upon a handsome picture, though it be but of an Horse. (R.M.Part 2:9)



An example of American Masonic Folk Art, a finely incised Ostrich Egg commemorating George Washington. (1852)

Wednesday, July 21, 2010

Pelican

Today, while browsing through Sir Thomas Browne's miscellaneous writings, trying to find his assessment upon Peruvian cinchona bark, new to 17th century medicine and hailed as a 'miracle' cure of malaria, I came upon a short amusing paragraph worth reproducing as regards Browne's ornithological inclinations.

Among his numerous interests Browne was a keen bird-fancier. It's recorded that at one time he kept as a pet an owl, a bittern, an eagle and even an ostrich. A short tract upon Falconry survives, and he's also credited with coining the word 'incubation' into the English language. One wonders just how he found time to attend to any of his patients with his many hobbies!

I'm planning to add a page upon the many neologisms Browne coined into the English language soon. Anyway, here's the paragraph from a tract on the Birds of Norfolk which made me chuckle, nearly as much as seeing a photo of an octopus embracing a bottle of Ouzo. And no, a pelican did not fly over my garden today either! In his short tract on the birds of Norfolk, Browne writes-

An onocrotalus, or pelican, shot upon Horsey Fen, May 22, 1663, which stuffed and cleansed, I yet retain. It was three yards and a half between the extremities of the wings; the chowle and beak answering the usual description; the rest of the body white; a fowl which none could remember upon this coast. About the same time I heard of the king's pelican's was lost at St. James; perhaps this might be the same.

Far less funny is the plight this summer of thousands of American pelicans in the Gulf of Mexico, due to the oil disaster. Just innocent bystanders in the collision between human greed and nature. Over 612 Brown pelicans killed as a result of the spillage as of July 2010.

The Pelican was the name for a common piece of alchemical apparatus. Its function was 'the digestion of substances by long steeping in hot fluid to extract the essence'. The apparatus worked by reflux distillation - the substance under treatment was boiled and the vapour condensed in a glass head, it then flowed back again, causing a process of circulation.

Alchemical and Christian iconography often used the emblem of the Pelican as a symbol of Christ for it's self-sacrificing qualities. Browne was of course familiar with this emblem, opening the fifth book of his encyclopaedia, Pseudodoxia Epidemica with a discussion upon it, as ever attributing the antiquity of its symbolic roots to his beloved ancient Egypt, writing,

And first in every place we meet with the picture of the Pelican, opening her breast with her bill, and feeding her young ones with the blood distilling from her. Thus is it set forth not only in common Signs, but in the Crest and Scutcheon of many Noble families; hath been asserted by many holy Writers, and was an Hieroglyphic of piety and pity among the Egyptians; on which consideration, they spared them at their tables.