halfway done!
Oh man. So I'm halfway done with my term projects. Perhaps more than halfway. 65% easy. One class is complete and, somewhat to my surprise, I learnt that this completeness extends to a final grade. No final in the class. Just a paper.
I was up until three this morning doing this paper. And I did hardly any of it - just a single page of it. Couldn't concentrate on it. I've got to do something about my procrastination because bedamned, this is getting ridiculous.
And so, because I'm somewhat pleased at this essay pulled together mostly out of my ass, I post it here. Hey, the heading of my journal does state that I am an intellectual charlatan.
Haiti has something of a reputation as a study in contrasts. Those studying the nation can be struck by the dualism that permeates the land, encasing all aspects of life. This is a nation where romantic love is sought and idealized, but whose history shows bloody battles and violent acts. Despite its extreme poverty, so severe that is is now known as the poorest country in the Western hemisphere, it remains impossible to deny Haiti's beauty, even as the richness of the land fades more and more under the effects of pollution and over logging. The white sand beaches against the ocean, vibrant contrasts of pale suits and dark, tanned skin, and even the weather - at one moment a scenic view of bright blue skies over impossibly clear waters and hot, only to have the image of paradise shattered by terrible storms and hurricanes, all add to this blend of opposites. The nation's history is equally dualistic; it holds the honor of being the first black republic and its culture continued to grow and advance, even as atrocities were committed against its own by its own, as slave owners were replaced by dictators. The people who live on Haiti’s shores are no different; the contrast here being the few rich, and the myriad many poor, linked together by a common past and identity. They are a mix of European and African, and even these must be limited to continents and not to other countries, as those who came to Haiti came from many nations and many places, and brought with them each their own myths and cultures. This duel nature is seen again with their desire for a pure love when tied with the reality of most matches, which rarely end in marriage, and also in their religion, which takes stolid Christian notions and melds them wholeheartedly with African traditions in a way that forms something different than both. That Vodou should be syncretic would be expected from a culture that derived from hundreds of years of blending.
In this view, it is not Vodou that is syncretic; rather, it is that Haiti itself is, and Haiti brought Vodou along for the ride. Vodou is a curious blend of savagely human elements and those pious and distantly holy, of African and Americanized Western philosophies and ideals. As history shaped the Haitian people, so did it shape their religion, finally resulting in a combination as complex and vivid as Haitian culture itself. That a tame religion could have resulted from such a violent history is unthinkable - their religion is as sour, lively, brilliant and terrible as their lives, and it combines the same levels of sex and death, romantic love and love for children, the need to do what is necessary for the self to survive, and the need for sacrifice. This is a human religion, and a gut wrenching one, especially when the easily contacted Loa are seen in contrast always to the good Bondye, who is lofty and distant, uncaring and eternally unchanging. The Bondye, equivalent to the Christian God, cares nothing for the suffering of men.
Instead, the Loa exist, easily reachable and much closer than the distant high God, but even their mission is less to help humanity than to enable humanity to aid itself. It is impossible to imagine that the Vodou Loa should be kind and gentle spirits. These creatures came into full being in a time of war and slavery, and the mediators between the Bon Dieu and humans are therefore equally blood bathed. They aren’t human, but they have more to their characters than mere mortals who take second place when a Loa decides that they want someone for their horse. Despite this, they maintain a level closer to humanity than the Christian saints. Saint James here isn’t a virtuous old man; he is a war god, driven and hungry. Danto mouthes her wordless cries but stands firm in defense of children. Papa Gede demands his top hat and will banter with those around him, but he still represents both sex and death. The Loa are not pale figures, seen at a distance. These are emissaries, walking between both the known, and the unknown. They make bets with their humans, tell them raunchy jokes, or cry for them as needed, they flounce off if not properly conjoled into staying, and they make life either heaven, or hell, for their intended. To deny them is to deny fate; to accept their desires is to accept one’s own place in life.
Vodou becomes intriguing when its view as a syncretic religion is compared to the immersion of other religions within the Christian Church. We see these religions subliminated, acting as a resonant device but rarely changing the surface of the Church itself. In such a way, we see such influences as the Irish goddess Bridget becoming a noble saint, who was peace-loving and wise and who begged her father to allow her to join a convent, or the Christianization of the Norse myths, as in where the death goddess Hel was generally forgotten, but her name was still taken and merged into common gospel knowledge. Examples of this can even be seen in the the Old Testament, where the Book of Daniel shows us the influence of the Babylonians and their belief in heaven and hell, concepts that had not previously had an impact on the Jewish faith.
In contrast, Christianity stands apart from Vodou, even as Vodou's practitioners declare themselves good Christians. There are several possible explanations for this. After all, Vodou arose out of violence, persecution, and bloody revolution. Christianity was not often a choice, as often was as it spread throughout Europe, and the missionaries who decided to instruct their new African slaves did so with disregard for previous traditions and deities, and certainly they were not as flexible as the early Church in accepting these new entities into the canon. Instead these figures were subsumed in an attempt to completely remove all aspects of them from the lives of the slaves. That this attempt should so completely backfire, resulting in not a submersion at all but a complete melding should not go unnoticed.
That there should be this drastic divide between traditional Christian thought and the developing Vodou sect cannot come as a surprise. To add to the chaos of a religion forced on one group is the realization that Christianity had solidified by the time that Vodou was developing; Christianity was written down, clarified by Biblical texts and writings that had stretched back hundreds of years. This, along with the colonial tendency to view native or African notions with disdain, disallowed any chance for an equal influence. This closed, literate culture clashed with the primarily religions that had followed the Haitian slaves from Africa, which, being oral and in a period of upheaval, was more flexible and accepted far more elements of Christianity than vice versa. As the African stories changed to meet their new surroundings, Christian thoughts and characters were wrapped in and melded with them, to form entities that bore resemblance to both sides, but which eventually came into its own as, from the Western view, completely separate from Christianity, and from the Haitian view, merely another layer thereof.
The Loa themselves display this in their very beings. When summoned, they do not casually write down their thoughts, but voice them loudly. If unhappy, they are like as not to inform those around them as to just what has caused their unhappiness, but this is done not through letters sent but words spoken. To choose an example, Ezili Freda, seems very humanlike in her passions. As Brown writes, she is “both married... and eternally ripe for marriage” and shows human uncertainty by wanting “people to think she a teenager” (Brown, 248). She shows endless desire for what she cannot have, and is eternally dissatisfied with what she possesses. This trait is far more human and approachable than her Christian counterpart, Mary, Our Mother of Sorrows, who suffers, but does so quietly. Freda rages and frets, and if not appeased, will abandon her host at a whim. Freda at once represents life as an ideal, that which others would seek and think of as perhaps approaching perfection, and the ultimate misery that can accompany it. It is Freda who is denied children, or perhaps, who denies them, in a definite counterpart to Mary, who is known primarily in her role as a mother.
That Freda, seen as having insatiable desires, both for love and for material items, is so linked to Mary, the mother of Jesus, can lead to confusion for those who do not appreciate the Vodou tradition. This shows once again the disparity between the traditional Western view of Vodou, and that of the followers of Vodou. Fermor writes of a priest in his “The Traveler's Tree” who shows his disgust at this concept, declaring Freda a “hateful goddess” (pg 287), and is unable to compile the Blessed Virgin with this concept of a woman who has multiple husbands and is known for her jealousy. However, to the Haitians who appealed to her, Freda's wiles and desires make her infinitely more accessible, more realistic, than the silently suffering Mary. Silence is, regardless, the domain of Freda's sister Loa, Danto, and her silence is not self imposed, but enforced.
Despite the incomprehension of the Church, driving out all aspects of Africa from the Haitians would be impossible. As Fermor’s priest ruefully declares later on the same page, “if the adepts of Voodoo were all, ipso facto, to be excommunicated, we would remain with only a handful of true Christians in Haiti.” To remove the Loa and leave only the distant Bondye would be unthinkable to Vodou followers, just as equally so would it be to deny the Christian elements and declare that Mary or Jesus did not exist. Vodou is syncretic, just as Haiti and her people are, and this blend of culture and religion is now inseparable.
Now. Just one more hour and I get to go home and do this all over again. Powerpoint presentation for the visions of the Book of Daniel, ahoy!
I was up until three this morning doing this paper. And I did hardly any of it - just a single page of it. Couldn't concentrate on it. I've got to do something about my procrastination because bedamned, this is getting ridiculous.
And so, because I'm somewhat pleased at this essay pulled together mostly out of my ass, I post it here. Hey, the heading of my journal does state that I am an intellectual charlatan.
Haiti has something of a reputation as a study in contrasts. Those studying the nation can be struck by the dualism that permeates the land, encasing all aspects of life. This is a nation where romantic love is sought and idealized, but whose history shows bloody battles and violent acts. Despite its extreme poverty, so severe that is is now known as the poorest country in the Western hemisphere, it remains impossible to deny Haiti's beauty, even as the richness of the land fades more and more under the effects of pollution and over logging. The white sand beaches against the ocean, vibrant contrasts of pale suits and dark, tanned skin, and even the weather - at one moment a scenic view of bright blue skies over impossibly clear waters and hot, only to have the image of paradise shattered by terrible storms and hurricanes, all add to this blend of opposites. The nation's history is equally dualistic; it holds the honor of being the first black republic and its culture continued to grow and advance, even as atrocities were committed against its own by its own, as slave owners were replaced by dictators. The people who live on Haiti’s shores are no different; the contrast here being the few rich, and the myriad many poor, linked together by a common past and identity. They are a mix of European and African, and even these must be limited to continents and not to other countries, as those who came to Haiti came from many nations and many places, and brought with them each their own myths and cultures. This duel nature is seen again with their desire for a pure love when tied with the reality of most matches, which rarely end in marriage, and also in their religion, which takes stolid Christian notions and melds them wholeheartedly with African traditions in a way that forms something different than both. That Vodou should be syncretic would be expected from a culture that derived from hundreds of years of blending.
In this view, it is not Vodou that is syncretic; rather, it is that Haiti itself is, and Haiti brought Vodou along for the ride. Vodou is a curious blend of savagely human elements and those pious and distantly holy, of African and Americanized Western philosophies and ideals. As history shaped the Haitian people, so did it shape their religion, finally resulting in a combination as complex and vivid as Haitian culture itself. That a tame religion could have resulted from such a violent history is unthinkable - their religion is as sour, lively, brilliant and terrible as their lives, and it combines the same levels of sex and death, romantic love and love for children, the need to do what is necessary for the self to survive, and the need for sacrifice. This is a human religion, and a gut wrenching one, especially when the easily contacted Loa are seen in contrast always to the good Bondye, who is lofty and distant, uncaring and eternally unchanging. The Bondye, equivalent to the Christian God, cares nothing for the suffering of men.
Instead, the Loa exist, easily reachable and much closer than the distant high God, but even their mission is less to help humanity than to enable humanity to aid itself. It is impossible to imagine that the Vodou Loa should be kind and gentle spirits. These creatures came into full being in a time of war and slavery, and the mediators between the Bon Dieu and humans are therefore equally blood bathed. They aren’t human, but they have more to their characters than mere mortals who take second place when a Loa decides that they want someone for their horse. Despite this, they maintain a level closer to humanity than the Christian saints. Saint James here isn’t a virtuous old man; he is a war god, driven and hungry. Danto mouthes her wordless cries but stands firm in defense of children. Papa Gede demands his top hat and will banter with those around him, but he still represents both sex and death. The Loa are not pale figures, seen at a distance. These are emissaries, walking between both the known, and the unknown. They make bets with their humans, tell them raunchy jokes, or cry for them as needed, they flounce off if not properly conjoled into staying, and they make life either heaven, or hell, for their intended. To deny them is to deny fate; to accept their desires is to accept one’s own place in life.
Vodou becomes intriguing when its view as a syncretic religion is compared to the immersion of other religions within the Christian Church. We see these religions subliminated, acting as a resonant device but rarely changing the surface of the Church itself. In such a way, we see such influences as the Irish goddess Bridget becoming a noble saint, who was peace-loving and wise and who begged her father to allow her to join a convent, or the Christianization of the Norse myths, as in where the death goddess Hel was generally forgotten, but her name was still taken and merged into common gospel knowledge. Examples of this can even be seen in the the Old Testament, where the Book of Daniel shows us the influence of the Babylonians and their belief in heaven and hell, concepts that had not previously had an impact on the Jewish faith.
In contrast, Christianity stands apart from Vodou, even as Vodou's practitioners declare themselves good Christians. There are several possible explanations for this. After all, Vodou arose out of violence, persecution, and bloody revolution. Christianity was not often a choice, as often was as it spread throughout Europe, and the missionaries who decided to instruct their new African slaves did so with disregard for previous traditions and deities, and certainly they were not as flexible as the early Church in accepting these new entities into the canon. Instead these figures were subsumed in an attempt to completely remove all aspects of them from the lives of the slaves. That this attempt should so completely backfire, resulting in not a submersion at all but a complete melding should not go unnoticed.
That there should be this drastic divide between traditional Christian thought and the developing Vodou sect cannot come as a surprise. To add to the chaos of a religion forced on one group is the realization that Christianity had solidified by the time that Vodou was developing; Christianity was written down, clarified by Biblical texts and writings that had stretched back hundreds of years. This, along with the colonial tendency to view native or African notions with disdain, disallowed any chance for an equal influence. This closed, literate culture clashed with the primarily religions that had followed the Haitian slaves from Africa, which, being oral and in a period of upheaval, was more flexible and accepted far more elements of Christianity than vice versa. As the African stories changed to meet their new surroundings, Christian thoughts and characters were wrapped in and melded with them, to form entities that bore resemblance to both sides, but which eventually came into its own as, from the Western view, completely separate from Christianity, and from the Haitian view, merely another layer thereof.
The Loa themselves display this in their very beings. When summoned, they do not casually write down their thoughts, but voice them loudly. If unhappy, they are like as not to inform those around them as to just what has caused their unhappiness, but this is done not through letters sent but words spoken. To choose an example, Ezili Freda, seems very humanlike in her passions. As Brown writes, she is “both married... and eternally ripe for marriage” and shows human uncertainty by wanting “people to think she a teenager” (Brown, 248). She shows endless desire for what she cannot have, and is eternally dissatisfied with what she possesses. This trait is far more human and approachable than her Christian counterpart, Mary, Our Mother of Sorrows, who suffers, but does so quietly. Freda rages and frets, and if not appeased, will abandon her host at a whim. Freda at once represents life as an ideal, that which others would seek and think of as perhaps approaching perfection, and the ultimate misery that can accompany it. It is Freda who is denied children, or perhaps, who denies them, in a definite counterpart to Mary, who is known primarily in her role as a mother.
That Freda, seen as having insatiable desires, both for love and for material items, is so linked to Mary, the mother of Jesus, can lead to confusion for those who do not appreciate the Vodou tradition. This shows once again the disparity between the traditional Western view of Vodou, and that of the followers of Vodou. Fermor writes of a priest in his “The Traveler's Tree” who shows his disgust at this concept, declaring Freda a “hateful goddess” (pg 287), and is unable to compile the Blessed Virgin with this concept of a woman who has multiple husbands and is known for her jealousy. However, to the Haitians who appealed to her, Freda's wiles and desires make her infinitely more accessible, more realistic, than the silently suffering Mary. Silence is, regardless, the domain of Freda's sister Loa, Danto, and her silence is not self imposed, but enforced.
Despite the incomprehension of the Church, driving out all aspects of Africa from the Haitians would be impossible. As Fermor’s priest ruefully declares later on the same page, “if the adepts of Voodoo were all, ipso facto, to be excommunicated, we would remain with only a handful of true Christians in Haiti.” To remove the Loa and leave only the distant Bondye would be unthinkable to Vodou followers, just as equally so would it be to deny the Christian elements and declare that Mary or Jesus did not exist. Vodou is syncretic, just as Haiti and her people are, and this blend of culture and religion is now inseparable.
Now. Just one more hour and I get to go home and do this all over again. Powerpoint presentation for the visions of the Book of Daniel, ahoy!