Cavernous, Winding

I am the sickness that creeps up the stairwell,

I am the bile that burns down your throat.

I speak in the patterns of the carpet,

And listen through the paint on the walls.

I will suffocate you with poisoned breath,

Breathing through a web of ducts and vents;

And in the night you will always feel

My lifeless pulse warming the floorboards. 

The Horror of Hallways

"New York was swishing and jamming one minute and dirty and dead the next. His daughter didn't even live in a house. She lived in a building - the middle in a row of buildings all alike, all blackened-red and gray with raspmouthed people hanging out their windows looking at other windows and other people just like them looking back. Inside you could go up and you could go down and there were just halls that reminded you of tape measures strung out with a door every inch. He remembered he'd been dazed by the building the first week. He'd wake up expecting the halls to have changed in the night and he'd look out the door and there they stretched like dog runs. The streets were the same way. He wondered where he'd be if he walked to the end of one of them. One night he dreamed he did and ended at the end of the building - nowhere."

- Flannery O'Connor, The Geranium.

A Spirit of Nowhere

 

Towering rows of beige siding melts

In the haze of a plastic twilight

To recede past sight and blend with the horizon,

While miles of painted on concrete drips

Into a forever dilating

Maze of streets and thoroughfares

So vast they eclipse the sight and knowledge

Of human affairs or planning committees.

And here is the boy who clamours and shakes

To disembodied voices in the night,

Pacing endlessly through the confines of

An imperceptible part of nowhere.

Music and Contemplation 2: The Metaphysics of the Sacred Heart of Jesus

The purpose of my previous article on music and contemplation was to bring out the metaphysical meaning of traditional music and its link with contemplation, but since I lack the patience to really flesh out my ideas the post did come across rather brief and unfocused, so here I just want to elaborate on the symbolism of music in a more concentrated way.

My main point was that religious chant and Indian classical music both point to the same truth that there is an immutable and primal God, and that there is a world of multiplicity that stands in relation to Him. This is probably the most basic outline of reality that can be drawn, and pre-modern contemplative music represents this outline in audible form. We can visually manifest this basic outline in the form of the Cross and all its variants, wherein the vertical portion of the Cross stands for God and the horizontal for manifestation (the melody). The melody of chant surrounding its harmonic centre is not a chaotic motion, the world did not emanate in a random fashion, and this is manifested by the use of modes in music, therefore, to break the mode is to break the order of creation. This latter point is made more explicit when we consider the esoteric meaning of the modes: their correspondences with the planets and elements. These correspondences and their place in traditional cosmology (I would like to more specifically comment on the meaning of the modes but I lack the knowledge) bring more depth to scales than if we viewed them merely as tools to make the music sound pleasing. Again, we can clearly see this in the Indian tradition, as different ragas are set to be performed at different times of the day and in different seasons, the music is in tune with the world...

Music and Contemplation

Saraswati: goddess of music, wisdom, art, and knowledge

The spirit that animates the music of traditional civilizations is very different than the one which dominates our modern Western culture. I think that one of the factors behind this great difference is the West's exaltation of action which has become opposed to contemplation.

It does not take great powers of perception to see that Western society is propelled by action, there is a tangible and inescapable obsession with work and production, and we see the fruits of this all around us: from our private time spent gazing into the void of virtual worlds to the sparkling towers which dominate the horizon of the earth. Activity which is not entertainment or work has no place in such a world, intellectual activity is not understood and even looked down upon, this is the natural result of the unnatural glorification of action, and it poisons everything it comes into contact with. Much has been written on this wide and important topic, and it is not my purpose to set forth a full exposition of the significance of contemplation and action (for this I would recommend Pieper's Leisure the Basis of Culture and Guenon's The Crisis of the Modern World), here I wish only to focus on how these principles apply to music and see what deeper meanings we can draw from them. As always, what I say here is only some aspects of the greater picture, not an exhaustive or perfect treatment.

Laughing at the World

 June 2020 was the month that humour died. It was in this month that the pitch of public outcry reached such a frenzied point that even someone as checked out as me began to grow weary of it. No longer could anything be tastefully mocked, but now commentators and citizens alike on all sides began to burn with ardent zeal for whatever position they had fallen into. 

Perhaps I don't take things seriously enough but I can't help but laugh at the person in a store wearing 2 layers of medical masks, goggles, and a face shield. Another might be rather disturbed by this sight - which is a fair reaction - but I don't see how one can keep sane if they respond to every bizarre sight with such gravity. Humour can keep men sane when the only other option is despair and resentment, anyone who has worked in a degrading fast food or retail job knows that this is true.

By laughing at the unreality of the world we recognize its falsity and refuse to submit to it, it is put below us in its proper place. Our clown world is funny precisely because it is wrong, the pieces are out of place and the image formed grows stranger and stranger. Without humour it is easy to become the inverse of this distorted image, wrong in different ways but wrong all the same.

Another factor behind the mass inability to laugh at this world is a plague of self-importance. The origin of this self-importance is nothing I can fault anyone for, as it has arisen out the universal desire for meaning in life. All the crises, social movements and phenomena of the past year or so has revealed the bizarre things people will do and believe to fill this void. When you base your life around opposing the group at the opposite end of the social/political spectrum then of course you can't laugh at them because they threaten your very being. Our identities have been reduced to transient political platforms, social goals, and silly moralisms. We are all like children playing a vast school yard game, except that we have forgotten that the whole thing is make believe and that at any second the bell will ring and we will be shocked back into reality where trifles have to be put away.

Trinity Sunday 2021

O never-failing and radiant dawn,

Dweller of the heavens, the eternal east,

Triune Deity alone and unseen

Seated in a shroud of limitless light.

Now behold this throne in the heart of man

Who is but dust and air, a nothingness

When compared to He who is within him,

Closer than the breath and hot flowing veins.

And inwardly the sacred change affects,

As when eyes are opened and dissolve to flame,

Flying like a moth to the eternal glance,

And man is transformed by the vision gained.

Platonic-Catholic Cosmology in one Photo

 

The sun and the circumradiation of its light are the three Divine Hypostasis; the tree is a symbol of the entirety of the universe.

The Soul of the World

 

“Into that heaven, all at rest, let the great soul be conceived to roll inward at every point, penetrating, permeating, from all sides pouring in its light. As the rays of the sun throwing their brilliance upon a lowering cloud make it gleam all gold, so the soul entering the material expanse of the heavens has given life, has given immortality: what was abject it has lifted up; and the heavenly system, moved now in endless motion by the soul that leads it in wisdom, has become a living and a blessed thing; the soul domiciled within, it takes worth where, before the soul, it was stark body- clay and water- or, rather, the blankness of Matter, the absence of Being, and, as an author says, "the execration of the Gods" (Plotinus, The Enneads, V.I).

So much for Plotinus hating the material world… This is quite a different thinker than the popular caricature.

One of these days I am going to write in more detail about the Plotinian view of the world and of his cosmology in general, since I have found that this is a highly misunderstood topic, but at the same time an accessible one - especially when compared to the purer metaphysical thought of the tradition. Let this then serve as an introduction.

The above passage encapsulates Plotinus’ view fairly well: matter, being so low in the hierarchy of being spirals headlong into non-being and causes souls to forget their divine nature and origin, it is in this sense that it is considered evil. But this is not the only condition that material manifestation can partake in, as what was abject has been lifted up by the Soul who mysteriously dwells even here: “it envelops the heavenly system and guides all to its purposes: for it has bestowed itself upon all that huge expanse so that every interval, small and great alike, all has been ensouled.”

The material world can only be called good because it has been rescued by Soul; the presence of God in the world doesn’t proclaim matter's goodness, but its emptiness.