Saturday, January 31, 2015

Honore de Balzac: La Comedie Humaine

Baaaaaaaaalzac! It's funny for so many reasons.  One can hear Eulalie Mackechnie Shinn clucking it alongside Chaucher and Rabelais.  And let's not forget its giggle-inducing homophone.  It's a wonder, considering how long the name has been in my consciousness, that it has taken me so long to get around to reading this author.  At last I have, though, and glad I am that I did.  I found him to be not only an engaging and epigrammatic storyteller, but also a complete original, treating the subject of men and women in a way that I don't recall experiencing before.  An enjoyable mix of Hemingway's brutal honesty and George Eliot's vibrant philosophy.  One can see, of course, why Mrs. Shinn would have objected to the content--had she ever read it.

In The Human Comedy, Balzac does not shy away from the darkest sides of human love and sexuality; rather, he embraces them.  Even the most brutal aspects, however, are never treated brutally. The themes are straight out of (or rather into, considering timing) Bret Easton Ellis: revenge, rape, jealousy, lust, sadism, and even bestiality.  But the style and treatment are more Tennyson: the heights and depths of human spirit that drives those themes.  Even arguably the most substream of the stories, the (metaphorically?) bestial "A Passion in the Desert", ends with the stunning explanation for the allure of one's wild nature: "It is God without men."

This tension between the human and the divine only partly sets up Balzac's cosmology, however.  In "The Duchesse de Langeais", Balzac thoughtfully and systematically lays out the real structure of his universe: "What man, in any rank of life, has not felt in his soul an indefinable pleasure in a woman he has chosen, even dreamed of as his own, who embodies the triple moral, physical, and social perfections that allow him to see in her the satisfation of all his wishes?"(327).  Society, this third element of Balzac's trinity, has just as clear a voice in his stories as the other two.  It is only in "Langeais", though, that he fully unfolds his meaning.  Peppered throughout are subtle references through imagery--the triple sconces of the Duchess' cloister, the three masked figures of her vision--and explicit reference to the three divinities, though always wearing different masks.  In fact, the patten is so consistent that one could make a chart were one inclined to that sort of thing . . .

p. 291          p. 303          p.327         p.366
love             men             social         horse
music          principles     moral        bull
religion       things           physical    lion

Perhaps the most stimulating part of this cosmology is its ability to be simultaneously clear and vague.  There is no doubt that Balzac's intention is to set up a trinity; great writers never do this sort of thing on accident.  But there is considerable doubt as to the precise nature of the three elements.  Although the above chart draws a perfectly acceptable corollary between the various mentions of these elements, it is by no means the only possible one. Do things belong to the physical world? Or the social one?  What about men?  At times they operate according to their animal passions, at others according to their social constructs. One would assume that religion is a moral force, but in Balzac (in "A Passion in the Desert", for example) God is nature, and therefore well within the physical realm.  It is tempting, in fact, to construct a narrative wherein Montriveau of "Langeais" and the general of "Desert" are in fact the same person, the latter taking place during the former's trek across the desert (322-323).  One is further tempted to this reading by Balzac's constant acsription of animal qualities to the two lovers in "Langeais".  Montriveau even goes so far as to say to the Duchesse, "perhaps you are like the tigers in the desert, who lick the wounds they have first inflicted" (373).  Rather an irresistible reference to the general and his panther.

At any rate, the line between the members of Balzac's triumvirate is far too blurry to allow any parallel with the Catholic trinity.  It rather feels more like a threefold version of yin and yang, one constantly running into and becoming the other.  For him, the world is not run by a constant tension between light and dark; it is far from so binary.  It is, rather, the constant and blurry interplay between love, lust, and romance that drives all humans to behave in the way they do. 

Friday, January 30, 2015

First John

Well, here goes.  I'm definitely near the end of this little project, and have been putting it off, as I tend to do with all things resembling completion.  The rest of this Bible belongs to John, a figure who could be described as either fascinating or enigmatic.  In some ways he feels to me like the narrator of the Hebrew scriptures.  A fellow whose voice is felt on every page, but who we never really get to know directly.  Kinda the Nick Carraway of the Bible.  Peter and Paul both come through loud and clear in their books, but John seemed to take great care to remove himself, even referring to himself in the third person, and never by name in his gospel account.  I look forward to seeing what pokes through in these last four books, or whether he maintains that mysterious objectivity.

1:1 The unnamed plural here is an interesting choice.  Different from Peter, James or Paul.  If any of them had written it, no doubt this would have begun with their names.  John already seems set to let this letter stand on its own merit.

1:3 Really, this trinity thing is out of hand.  I've discussed John's treatment extensively in my discussion of his gospel account, and here is further indication that he had no concept of Jesus and God as being the same person.

1:4 I really like this approach.  This is how prayer should work.  Not asking for anything, just saying it because to not say it is to be incomplete.

1:5 Again, exactly like a prayer--my version at least, which is heavily influenced by Ernest Holmes.

1:8-10 A concise and accessible treatment of a weighty theological topic.

2:1 Now this is interesting.  A sudden shift to the first person singular.  Fitting, in that his topic now seems to be taking a turn away from the rhetoric of theology and toward the personal appeal.

2:2 And back to "we" here, but now it feels less like the royal we, and more like the addressee-inclusive we.   I wonder if Greek makes that distinction like Mandarin and Hawaiian, or leaves it unmarked like English.  Update: unmarked.

2:4 The second use of this expression already.  It is as if for John "the truth is not in you" is the ultimate proscription.  I will be on the lookout for future treatment of "truth", but it feels important to him in a way that it did not to Paul et al.

2:9-11 And the same can be said for "light".  In fact, truth and light already seem to be synonymous for John.

2:12-14 A beautiful little stanza, with a good measure of poetic quality.  I am intrigued especially by  "him who is from the beginning" in 14.  As he is addressing the "fathers' in the congregation, no doubt he means those who saw Christ with their own eyes.  This dovetails nicely with the theology in his gospel account.

2:15-17 Verses that still ring in my head from the memorization of my youth.  Interestingly, little deviated from the New World Translation that I remember.

2:18 and here is a nice pin in the balloon of those amateur theologians who predict/await/identify the antichrist.  There was never such a figure in the Bible.  It's an adjective, not a title.

2:21 More emphasis on truth, and in a way that is indistinguishable from the treatment of light.  A nice set of dichotomies he is setting up here:  truth and lies, light and darkness, the world and the will of God.

2:24 Using syntax to make his reference clear here.  John loves this word "abide".  Wonder if the same Greek word is being translated each time here.  Update: indeed it is.  Menein in 2:6, menetw and meinh in 2:24.  This is a great little point.  In 6, the reader abides in God.  In 24, truth abides in the reader, even as the reader abides in the son and the father.  A potentially revealing nesting doll arrangement.

2:27 And the same verb here, time used for anointing.  That indirectly conflates "truth" with spirit, which makes sense given his next words.  If we are to extend John's pattern here, that would mean spirit has to have an equivalent darkness.  Let us see if there is mention of such a contrast.

2:29 Now this is a potentially incendiary verse.  John has put the cart in its rightful pre-equine position here.  It is not that those who have been born of God must do right.  It is that those who do right are by definition born of God.  Those who do not do right are simply not of God, and are liars if they say otherwise, as in 1:8 and 2:4.  The most telling point, however, is that it is the doing of right that is the deciding factor.  Although such distinctions would have been meaningless in John's context, one can extrapolate that creed, faction, and silly recited declaration of belief are irrelevant.

3:2-3 I'm going out on a limb here.  Brace yourself.  Taken in a certain way, this is a rather revealing metaphysical statement.  Those who are properly constituted have the ability to see based on their similarity to that seen.  This could be taken sociologically, to mean that we only understand what we are conditioned to experience; or literally, to mean that one must be  . . . vibrating? at the right frequency?  Ok, I'm gonna stop now.  That sounds too woogity woogity to be supportable.

3:4-10 Waaaaaaaitaminnit, here's where it gets a bit fuzzy.  This seems to directly contradict what is goin on back in 1:8-10.

3:14 And here's the other half of the dichotomy that we were looking for in 2:27.  The opposite of light is darkness, and the other side of spirit is death.  Same verb and everything.

3:15 Oh, but now he's set up another one.  Gotta backtrack on that last statement.

3:23 This is the only thing that saves the earlier contradiction.  John's definition of sin in 1:8-10 and his definition here do not seem to be the same thing.  It's entirely possible that he was speaking Mosaically earlier.  Linguistic clues from the Greek: sin in Greek is not a separate concept like it is in English.  It just means to miss something, although even this translation is fuzzy because of the multiple meanings of "miss" in English.  In any case, John is probably just using it as a general lexical item, not a concrete theological construct, which makes some contradiction more understandable.

4:1 Okay, hold on.  I have to take issue with this translation decision to capitalize Spirit in 3:24 and not here.  This is a clear editorializing that is in no way indicated in the Greek.  It's the same word.

 4:2-3 Now we are pretty clearly speaking of actual spirit beings here, not some metaphorical spirit of brotherhood or Saint Louis.  This always intrigues me when the Bible hits these areas, because it seems like there's something almost scientific about it.  Like the discovery of a new species.  What are the characteristics of these creatures?  They can clearly communicate.  There's even a taxonomy given here.  This remains a huge blind spot in my own personal experience though.  I always look at this sort of thing with a pretty heavy dose of side-eye, as though Teresa of Avila were in front of me spouting her silliness. 

4:10-12  You can almost feel John's passion here, like the rising cadence of a really good sermon.  I could wish that he gave us a little more to go on here, but it's compelling nonetheless.

4:14-15 Sadly, these verses that are so central to modern Evangelicalism also hold some pretty strong rationale for not believing in a trinity.  It's a shame what is picked and chosen.

4:16 Here's the best part of the whole abiding thing: it's reflexive.  The reader abides in God, and vice versa.  One is simultaneously the vessel and the contents.

4:17 We get a whiff here of John's earlier visions.  He has likely already written the Revelation by the time this epistle is composed, and his warning to be ready bears a very specific urgency.  Those things that he saw cannot be unseen.

5:3 Indeed.  They're contained in one verse.

5:5 John has taken a turn away from "truth" to the less attractive "belief" here. 

5:6 And we're back.  Phew. 

5:11 I'm quite interested in knowing exactly what John's concept of eternal life was.  Is he intimating something he observed as one of the few who actually might have seen into the beyond and lived to write about it?  Sadly, he does not elaborate here.

5:16-17 Wow, these verses are pretty fresh to me.   Lots of interesting implications here:
  • the reader has the power to forgive sin 
  • but only of a certain type, for there are evidently magnitudes
  • mortal sin is super super bad, and it exists, and John is not going to tell us what it is
5:18  Again, these verses only work if we take sin as a general term, not a theological construct.

5:19 And here's another tantalizing bit of metaphysics.  For lack of any other candidate, I'm going to go ahead and say that this evil one is the corollary to spirit in John's lengthy dialectic.

5:20 The perfect ending,

5:21 but this is just weird.