August 13th, 2009
Read “The Da Vinci Code” in 2005, after deliberately ignoring it for quite some time because of the hype. And then saw the movie later.
Well, the wealth of information (esp. regarding symbols) is generally sound. But it doesn’t hold a candle to the erudition of Umberto Eco’s “Foucalt’s Pendulum.” (I have yet to understand the elaborate explanation of how Foucault’s Pendulum works…)
One thing I liked in the novel is the rather sympathetic portrayal of the head of the Opus Dei, Bishop Aringarosa. (Not so in the movie.) I’ve heard a lot of negative publicity regarding the Opus Dei and their founder Jose Ma. Escriva. (From the late Larry Henares, in his TV show and Philippine Daily Inquirer column, as well as from a Filipino priest who studied in a university run by the Opus Dei…) Bishop Aringarosa may be ultra-conservative in his theology but in the end, when the time came for his faith to be tested, his heart proved to be ultimately in the right place.
Also, it had a more hopeful, happy ending than “Foucault’s Pendulum,” which was darker and more poignant. Eco’s novel bewails the lack of understanding that so-called believers/enlightened ones have. Parang si Elsa sa Himala: “Walang himala! Ang himala ay nasa puso ng tao!”
In chapter 78 of “The Da Vinci Code,” Dan Brown equates “white” with “female”; and “black,” with “male.” This stumped me. Isn’t it the other way around?
So far as I know, traditionally, “male” is “white” while “female” is “black.” “Yang” is “male” is “white” is “light. “Yin” is “female” is “black” is “dark.”
Male = reason, logos, light, white, sun, day, candle…
Female = emotion, eros, darkness, black, moon, night, water…
Right? What do you think?
(Apropos duality, recently read Robert Pirsig’s “Lila,” the sequel to “Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance.” Pirsig’s an example of a male/logical/classical mind realizing the limits of reason and the necessity of its transcendence.)
Finally, as regards the ruckus created by “The Da Vinci Code” among believers and non-believers alike, let me point to a Nietzschean/Zarathustrian phrase: “What does it matter?”
Most Christians argue for the historical validity of Christ’s crucifixion and resurrection. Atheists and anti-christians take the opposite side, of course.
Most Christians say, “If Christ did not rise from the dead, then our faith would be in vain.”
Really? What does it ultimately say about your faith then?
As for me, whether Christ rose from the dead or not, got married and had children or not, really walked this earth or not, is not the heart of the matter… is never the heart of the matter!
Towards the end of Nietzsche’s “Thus Spoke Zarathustra,” the Higher Men, who had finally learned how to laugh in Z’s cave became quiet again. Zarathustra, who was outside, smelled incense burning and went in to find these higher men worshipping an ass/donkey as God. He scolded them and asked why they were doing it. Each one responded with an answer that ultimately showed their transcendence of their previous positions. In this festival of the ass, the ass was supposed to have danced, too. But if it did not, “what does it matter!” For indeed, greater things have transpired than the mere dancing of an ass. Again, Elsa: “Walang himala! Ang himala ay nasa puso ng tao!”
As for Krishnamurti? He seems too serious for my taste. Would that he laughed more!
best regards,
meroving-ian
P.S. Below: a copy of an essay I wrote in 2003 after watching “The Matrix Reloaded” plus an excerpt from Nietzsche’s “Thus Spoke Zarathustra.”
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The Patrix
“The Matrix has you.”
Or is it more fitting to call it “the Patrix”?
About two years ago I read one contemporary Japanese Play (“Lullaby” 100 Years of Songs”). It’s a play about a theater group in crisis because the lead actor has gone AWOL. They search for someone who can do it and ultimately find one. In the process, and interspersed with rehearsals of the play they’re mounting, issues within the members of the group are raised. The play that they’re mounting touches on the paranormal, but also raises questions regarding mothers and motherhood. One of the characters in the play, exasperated by the suffocating love of his mother, wanted to escape to “a land without mothers.”
The love of a mother, when excessive, can be dangerous not only to the child but to the world at large. Precisely because unconditional, it can either make the child a weakling (overly dependent) or a tyrant (overly aggressive). Of course, the shadow side of a mother’s love is when it becomes manipulative.
Tradition has associated femininity with motherhood. Our minds, used to metaphors, have tied up the idea of “receptacle, vessel, sheath” with the “feminine” (the vagina, the womb). Not only that, the feminine has also been associated with the negative side of our bipolar valuations. Connect the dots: feminine… the vagina… the womb… the vessel… the passive… the weak… the tomb… death… darkness… waters… emotions… fluidity… unreliability… etc. On the other hand, the positive has been appropriated by the masculine: the penis… the mighty… the sword… the active… fire… sky… mountains… light… reason… law…
The trinity is almost a triumvirate: the father, the son, and while the holy spirit is presumed to be neither male nor female, “spiritus” (Latin) is masculine. “Animus” (masc.) is spirit; “anima” (fem.) is soul. In traditional philosophy, the ambition has always been to separate the pure mind (masc.) from the impure body (fem.). Even the word “matter” (the principle of individuation and a source of scandal for many a theologian and philosopher) comes from “materia,” which in turn comes from “mater” (the same word from which “matrix” comes).
Thus, the fear for being imbedded in “the matrix” can be interpreted as a deeply imbedded fear of the womb/tomb, cradle/grave… the mother? The feminine other?
In our fixation not to be controlled, to be in control, to have power, we forget that society, with all its so-called mechanisms of control, is to a great extent largely patriarchal (what the feminists call the patriarchy). It is the “patrix” (my coinage) which has us.
Women’s liberation, gay liberation, liberation from racism, etc. are directed against this “patrix.” Any victory for them is a victory for humanity. But as they say, the ultimate bondage is the bondage of the spirit. Thus, the need for us “to free the mind” from its prejudices… (Michel Foucault says “It is not that everything is evil, but that everything is dangerous.” We need, therefore, to take care… of ourselves… of other people… of our world.)
I’m not sure whether the elevation of the spirit and denigration of the body (and all the dirty, inconvenient things the idealists are ashamed of, like urinating, fucking, defecating, etc.) have as their consequence the marginalization of the feminine and the others (other forms of difference), or it’s the other way around. But they are definitely connected. And much more insidious because they are to a great extent, undetected. Or taken for granted.
Best regards,
ian, the patric-ian
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From “Thus Spoke Zarathustra” by Friedrich Nietzsche (R. J. Hollingdale translation):
Meanwhile, however, one after another had gone out into the open air and the cool, thoughtful night; but Zarathustra himself led the ugliest man by the hand, to show him his nocturnal world and the big, round moon and the silver waterfalls beside his cave. There at last they stood silently together, just a group of old folk, but with comforted, brave hearts and amazed in themselves that it was so well then on earth; but the mystery of the night drew nearer and nearer their hearts. And Zarathustra thought to himself again: ‘Oh, how well they please me now, these Higher Men!’ — but he did not say it, for he respected their happiness and their silence.
Then, however, occurred the most astonishing thing in that long, astonishing day: the ugliest man began once more and for the last time to gurgle and snort, and when he at last came to the point of speech, behold, a question leaped round and pure from his mouth, a good, deep, clear question, which moved the hearts of all who heard it.
‘My assembled friends,’ said the ugliest man, ‘what do you think? For the sake of this day — I am content for the first time to have lived my whole life.
‘And it is not enough that I testify only this much. It is worth while to live on earth: one day, one festival with Zarathustra has taught me to love the earth.
‘”Was that — life?” I will say to death. “Very well! Once more!”
‘My friends, what do you think? Will you not, like me, say to death: “Was that — life? For Zarathustra’s sake, very well! Once more!”‘
Thus spoke the ugliest man; and it was not long before midnight. And what would you think then took place? As soon as the Higher Men had heard this question, they were all at once conscious of their transformation and recovery, and of who had given them these things: then they leaped towards Zarathustra, thanking, adoring, caressing, kissing his hands, each after his own fashion: so that some laughed, some wept. The old prophet, however, danced with pleasure; and even if he was then full of sweet wine, as some narrators believe, he was certainly fuller still of sweet life and had renounced all weariness. There are even those who tell that the ass danced at that time: for not in vain had the ugliest man given it wine to drink. This may be the case, or it may be otherwise; and if in truth the ass did not dance that evening, greater and stranger marvels than the dancing of an ass occurred. In brief, as Zarathustra’s saying has it: ‘What does it matter!’