When tragedies occur, people need a way of explaining them in order to move past them. We build stories to explain and make sense of things we can't possibly understand, and often those stories are related to religion. Religion provides a narrative lens to view historical events through and decipher them, and this is exemplified in Lamentations in the way religion is used to explain the destruction of Jerusalem by the Babylonians in 586 BC.
Lamentations describes the horrific destruction of Jerusalem as God's punishment for leading sinful lives. After acknowledging the faults of the people, the narrative proceeds to ask God for forgiveness and pleads, "that we may be restored; renew our days as of old"(5.13 22-23). They create hope by taking decisions out of their hands and placing them in God's. In this case, giving up control is a way to move on past the tragedy. Even though life is horrible now, there is significant hope that it will improve, because God is forgiving and basically Good.
As we discussed in class, there is a significant parallel between the destruction of Jerusalem in 586 BC and the 9/11 crisis in 2001 AD. People responded in similar ways to make sense of the tragedy, with both religious and secular narratives. The process of unloading emotional trauma in a creative way is a universal human trait. In any tragedy, the same sort of emotional responses occur as in Lamentations. Religion has a way of bringing people together, and post-tragedy, the last thing one wants to feel is alone. The sacking of Jerusalem and the emotional response of "the city" parallel many tragic situations and the typical human response to them; narratives are created to explain the unexplainable catastrophes in life and provide hope for the future.
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
Religion as Dividing Force
Religion binds one to others with the same beliefs, while alienating them from others with conflicting beliefs. Religion divides as well as coalesces, drawing invisible "do not cross" lines between humans and humans, and especially between humans and nature. "Grizzly Man" offers insight into the difficulties of "crossing back" into nature; Timothy Treadwell attempted to dwell with bears, and encountered much criticism from fellow humans in the process (and ultimately from the bears themselves, if you can call it that).
In the Paleolithic Age, humans and bears inhabited similar terrain and hunted the same large mammals, and they generally kept to themselves directly because they were competitors for the same resources. Though no religion had strictly divided humans from the rest of the world at that point, animals did not live in a happy Paleolithic commune cohabitating with different species. The myth that humans once convened with the bears is not supported by logic or proof. Now, religion has molded society and strictly divided humans from nature through beliefs of the sort found in Genesis: "Then God said, 'Let us make humankind in our image, according to our likeness; and let them have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the birds of the air, and over the cattle, and over all the wild animals of the earth'"(1.26). The divide is clear; humans have control over all other animals so we cannot possibly live in the same sphere of existence.
As religion initially forms a line, technology and "progress" thickens that line, creating an even larger divide between humans and nature. Technology enables us to do so much more than our animal friends, so we see ourselves as increasingly superior to them. Interestingly enough, advanced technology was absolutely necessary for Treadwell in his return to nature.
It was miraculous how long Treadwell managed to survive in that environment, despite his insistence of the inherent similarities between humans and animals and his complete lack of fear of the bears. Unlike Paleolithic hunters, Treadwell had no respect for differences between humans and animals and treated bears like humans, though they are obviously much stronger and more aggressive. Most of the interviewees wasted no time in attacking Treadwell and his beliefs, some insisting that he "did more harm than good" in trying to protect the bears by living with them. Despite that his project was a result of more than just a desire to protect the bears (his early years were riddled with drug and alcohol abuse and other personal issues, so living with bears was an escape for him), I believe it is too severe and unnecessary to be critical of him after his gruesome death. Even though I don't agree with Treadwell's beliefs, I still respect him for living with those beliefs through the enormous amount of criticism he encountered along the way.
In the Paleolithic Age, humans and bears inhabited similar terrain and hunted the same large mammals, and they generally kept to themselves directly because they were competitors for the same resources. Though no religion had strictly divided humans from the rest of the world at that point, animals did not live in a happy Paleolithic commune cohabitating with different species. The myth that humans once convened with the bears is not supported by logic or proof. Now, religion has molded society and strictly divided humans from nature through beliefs of the sort found in Genesis: "Then God said, 'Let us make humankind in our image, according to our likeness; and let them have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the birds of the air, and over the cattle, and over all the wild animals of the earth'"(1.26). The divide is clear; humans have control over all other animals so we cannot possibly live in the same sphere of existence.
As religion initially forms a line, technology and "progress" thickens that line, creating an even larger divide between humans and nature. Technology enables us to do so much more than our animal friends, so we see ourselves as increasingly superior to them. Interestingly enough, advanced technology was absolutely necessary for Treadwell in his return to nature.
It was miraculous how long Treadwell managed to survive in that environment, despite his insistence of the inherent similarities between humans and animals and his complete lack of fear of the bears. Unlike Paleolithic hunters, Treadwell had no respect for differences between humans and animals and treated bears like humans, though they are obviously much stronger and more aggressive. Most of the interviewees wasted no time in attacking Treadwell and his beliefs, some insisting that he "did more harm than good" in trying to protect the bears by living with them. Despite that his project was a result of more than just a desire to protect the bears (his early years were riddled with drug and alcohol abuse and other personal issues, so living with bears was an escape for him), I believe it is too severe and unnecessary to be critical of him after his gruesome death. Even though I don't agree with Treadwell's beliefs, I still respect him for living with those beliefs through the enormous amount of criticism he encountered along the way.
Response to J.B.'s "Indian Mounds of Wisconsin"
I definitely enjoyed reading J.B.'s "Indian Mounds of Wisconsin" post, especially his speculations derived from R. Clark Mallam's quote that "effigy mounds were built to symbolize and ritually maintain balance and harmony with the natural world within the context of ceremonialism to renew the world."
J.B. asserted that there are two possible ways to interpret that quote. Although his wording implied only two possible ways (total), maybe he meant that he dealt with two interpretations, not that those were the only two. I will briefly address both of J.B.'s interpretations of the quote, and then any other interpretations that were prominent in the reading.
In his first of two interpretations, J.B. attested that ceremonial mounds were built in appreciation for natural gifts (plentiful harvests or hunts, etc.). The mounds represented the overwhelming gratitude the Indians felt for the cause of their good fortune (e.g. God). The second interpretation was a little less clear, and I do not want to alter J.B.'s views, but it was definitely another valid speculation as to Mallam's meaning. In this case, the mounds were not built out of gratitude, but instead almost as a bribe to their higher being. The Indians basically believed in karma, and therefore found reason for inexplicable natural occurences in their own past actions. If that were the case, why do they build mounds at all? This seemed like the logical question to ask of this interpretation. However, since they do still believe in a higher power, building the mounds might create positive karma that would influence their prosperity in the future. These both seemed like possible explanations, more so in the context of the quote and Mallam's interpretation.
Forgetting about Mallam for a minute, the article mentions numerous other possible explanations for the effigy mound building, yet still asserts that "the origins of effigy mound ceremonialism are unclear"(140). It is impossible to know, with complete certainty, the reasons people had for creating huge ceremonial mounds hundreds of years ago. Since "the Late Woodland was an unstable period of rapid technological, economic, and social change; population growth; warfare; and physical movements of tribes and bands"(140), people either needed a way to bring "the world back into balance and harmony"(141), or to "define themselves in relation to intruders and competing ideologies"(141). This reminds me of the transition from the Pleistocene into the Holocene, and how these huge cultural changes spawned a new sense of spirituality. People generally need a gradual transition into a new lifestyle, especially if the change is as dramatic as the culture shift the Late Woodlanders experienced; religion offers a welcome explanation for the new, uncomprehendable circumstances.
J.B. asserted that there are two possible ways to interpret that quote. Although his wording implied only two possible ways (total), maybe he meant that he dealt with two interpretations, not that those were the only two. I will briefly address both of J.B.'s interpretations of the quote, and then any other interpretations that were prominent in the reading.
In his first of two interpretations, J.B. attested that ceremonial mounds were built in appreciation for natural gifts (plentiful harvests or hunts, etc.). The mounds represented the overwhelming gratitude the Indians felt for the cause of their good fortune (e.g. God). The second interpretation was a little less clear, and I do not want to alter J.B.'s views, but it was definitely another valid speculation as to Mallam's meaning. In this case, the mounds were not built out of gratitude, but instead almost as a bribe to their higher being. The Indians basically believed in karma, and therefore found reason for inexplicable natural occurences in their own past actions. If that were the case, why do they build mounds at all? This seemed like the logical question to ask of this interpretation. However, since they do still believe in a higher power, building the mounds might create positive karma that would influence their prosperity in the future. These both seemed like possible explanations, more so in the context of the quote and Mallam's interpretation.
Forgetting about Mallam for a minute, the article mentions numerous other possible explanations for the effigy mound building, yet still asserts that "the origins of effigy mound ceremonialism are unclear"(140). It is impossible to know, with complete certainty, the reasons people had for creating huge ceremonial mounds hundreds of years ago. Since "the Late Woodland was an unstable period of rapid technological, economic, and social change; population growth; warfare; and physical movements of tribes and bands"(140), people either needed a way to bring "the world back into balance and harmony"(141), or to "define themselves in relation to intruders and competing ideologies"(141). This reminds me of the transition from the Pleistocene into the Holocene, and how these huge cultural changes spawned a new sense of spirituality. People generally need a gradual transition into a new lifestyle, especially if the change is as dramatic as the culture shift the Late Woodlanders experienced; religion offers a welcome explanation for the new, uncomprehendable circumstances.
Sunday, April 8, 2007
Reflections of life in art, Pleistocene into Holocene (Part II).
As a continuation of my previous post, I'm going to venture into the Holocene era and explore the dramatic differences between the culture in this, and the Pleistocene time periods.
The drastic lifestyle changes that began in the Holocene were initiated by a hugely drastic climate change, "the greatest consistent change in Earth's climate that had occurred throughout the entire span of our species", in fact. (Guthrie 409). As temperatures rose, animal and plant life became abundant, and the previous hunter-gatherer bands of the Pleistocene morphed into larger tribal groups. This floral and faunal abundance enabled tribes to store surplus food, thereby assuring a constant supply.
I don't want to get bogged down in miniscule details of the book; so basically, the relatively (compared to Pleistocene) comfortable lifestyle of the Holocene resulted in larger tribes where people had concerns other than basic survival. This excess of time resulted in the contemplation of myths and magic as well as tribal concerns, rather than individual hunting worries. Confusion occurred when conditions weren’t favorable; "when bad luck did arrive, it may have seemed very strange and unreasonable, a matter of who or what to blame"(Guthrie 418). They began to ponder spiritual notions, which is reflected in their symbolic, exaggerated, non-realistic artwork.
After reading about the numerous problems with this new tribal lifestyle, I think that I would have rather lived in the Pleistocene than the Holocene. The Pleistocene people did not war, or have significant nutritional deficiencies, or easily acquire numerous various diseases. In the Pleistocene, children were raised with much more care and attention; people understood the natural world and didn't blame their bad luck on some spiritual higher power. It is interesting to me that the Holocene held the first occurrences of religion and war. While tribal groups developed their own identities they naturally viewed neighboring tribes as potential competitors, and the "us" versus "them" mentality took hold. Guthrie even mentions some current conflicts that resulted from "too much emphasis on old tribal identity"(421), like between Israel and Palestine, among others.
Religious nature was sprung from the same womb as a warring nature, and as they were linked 9000 years ago, they remain so today. Unfortunately, I see no easy way out of the puzzle of strong group identity leading to warfare. Group identity is an inconceivably large force in our lives that the concept of reverting back to Pleistocene bands is basically ludicrous. However, some sort of balance would be nice.
The drastic lifestyle changes that began in the Holocene were initiated by a hugely drastic climate change, "the greatest consistent change in Earth's climate that had occurred throughout the entire span of our species", in fact. (Guthrie 409). As temperatures rose, animal and plant life became abundant, and the previous hunter-gatherer bands of the Pleistocene morphed into larger tribal groups. This floral and faunal abundance enabled tribes to store surplus food, thereby assuring a constant supply.
I don't want to get bogged down in miniscule details of the book; so basically, the relatively (compared to Pleistocene) comfortable lifestyle of the Holocene resulted in larger tribes where people had concerns other than basic survival. This excess of time resulted in the contemplation of myths and magic as well as tribal concerns, rather than individual hunting worries. Confusion occurred when conditions weren’t favorable; "when bad luck did arrive, it may have seemed very strange and unreasonable, a matter of who or what to blame"(Guthrie 418). They began to ponder spiritual notions, which is reflected in their symbolic, exaggerated, non-realistic artwork.
After reading about the numerous problems with this new tribal lifestyle, I think that I would have rather lived in the Pleistocene than the Holocene. The Pleistocene people did not war, or have significant nutritional deficiencies, or easily acquire numerous various diseases. In the Pleistocene, children were raised with much more care and attention; people understood the natural world and didn't blame their bad luck on some spiritual higher power. It is interesting to me that the Holocene held the first occurrences of religion and war. While tribal groups developed their own identities they naturally viewed neighboring tribes as potential competitors, and the "us" versus "them" mentality took hold. Guthrie even mentions some current conflicts that resulted from "too much emphasis on old tribal identity"(421), like between Israel and Palestine, among others.
Religious nature was sprung from the same womb as a warring nature, and as they were linked 9000 years ago, they remain so today. Unfortunately, I see no easy way out of the puzzle of strong group identity leading to warfare. Group identity is an inconceivably large force in our lives that the concept of reverting back to Pleistocene bands is basically ludicrous. However, some sort of balance would be nice.
Reflections of life in art, Pleistocene into Holocene (Part I).
R. Dale Guthrie's "The Nature of Paleolithic Art" is quite compelling in its implications about our past and for our future. His overwhelming theme is how art reflects and is reflected in the culture of humans throughout various time periods. I believe art does provide significant insight into a culture, while still it is merely a stylized view of that culture.
The art of the Pleistocene was decidedly naturalistic, with the majority of images being large mammals (large ladies included), and some sprinkling of game fish and birds. Since the Pleistocene, humans' entire culture revolved around hunting, and their art focused, logically, on this same theme. As Guthrie states, "Survival depended on exquisite attention to one's natural surroundings"(Guthrie 404), and that preoccupation with nature found its way directly into their artwork. The lack of symbolism in Pleistocene artwork also attests to the strictly survivalist, naturalistic nature of the people at that time. Their demanding lifestyle left little room for abstract or symbolic thought, though they certainly had the capacity for it (just as modern humans do).
The climate during the Pleistocene and into the Holocene greatly affected the culture of humans in those times. In the Pleistocene, the frigid, dry, barely livable conditions assured that "Paleolithic people never regularly obtained sufficient resources to sustain individual bands of large size or any but the thinnest regional density of bands"(Guthrie 406). This isolation from other bands resulted in the Pleistocene people having an underdeveloped sense of self-image, which was inherent in their lack of detailed human figures in their artwork.
Though Pleistocene people had the capacity for spiritual thought, their culture as a whole would have been at a distinct disadvantage (from an evolutionary survival perspective) if they had pursued much abstract thinking. Instead they remained focused on logical methods for hunting and survival, evident in the majority of the recovered art from that time period.
I feel like living in a time when humans were a part of nature, rather than a distinct, outside, destructive force on it, would be a refreshing challenge. We humans have gradually separated ourselves from the rest of the world, and are finally realizing our hugely destructive power and attempting (in some sense) to return to an equilibrium (of some sort). Based on how much has changed in our past, I wonder how religion will change over the next thousands of years?
The art of the Pleistocene was decidedly naturalistic, with the majority of images being large mammals (large ladies included), and some sprinkling of game fish and birds. Since the Pleistocene, humans' entire culture revolved around hunting, and their art focused, logically, on this same theme. As Guthrie states, "Survival depended on exquisite attention to one's natural surroundings"(Guthrie 404), and that preoccupation with nature found its way directly into their artwork. The lack of symbolism in Pleistocene artwork also attests to the strictly survivalist, naturalistic nature of the people at that time. Their demanding lifestyle left little room for abstract or symbolic thought, though they certainly had the capacity for it (just as modern humans do).
The climate during the Pleistocene and into the Holocene greatly affected the culture of humans in those times. In the Pleistocene, the frigid, dry, barely livable conditions assured that "Paleolithic people never regularly obtained sufficient resources to sustain individual bands of large size or any but the thinnest regional density of bands"(Guthrie 406). This isolation from other bands resulted in the Pleistocene people having an underdeveloped sense of self-image, which was inherent in their lack of detailed human figures in their artwork.
Though Pleistocene people had the capacity for spiritual thought, their culture as a whole would have been at a distinct disadvantage (from an evolutionary survival perspective) if they had pursued much abstract thinking. Instead they remained focused on logical methods for hunting and survival, evident in the majority of the recovered art from that time period.
I feel like living in a time when humans were a part of nature, rather than a distinct, outside, destructive force on it, would be a refreshing challenge. We humans have gradually separated ourselves from the rest of the world, and are finally realizing our hugely destructive power and attempting (in some sense) to return to an equilibrium (of some sort). Based on how much has changed in our past, I wonder how religion will change over the next thousands of years?
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