Aristophanes - Calling for the complement

I really enjoyed Aristophanes's speech. I liked it because it accounts for so many things, like people's sexuality, attraction to certain people, and even for the bellybutton. (Not that I truly believe it...) But, Aristophanes's is a fascinating theory, that each of us was once a pair, but then we were split as punishment for misbehaving and attempting an attack on the gods. Zeus had Apollo cut us in half, and where our navels are is where he drew the skin together to close the wound. Since we were made into halves, we spend our lives searching for our "matching half."

"This, then, is the source of our desire to love each other. Love is born into every human being; it calls back the halves of our original nature together, it tries to make one out of two and heal the wound of human nature" (27). And, supposedly, we will know when we have found our other half.

This idea made me think of the poem "Tortoise Shout" by D.H. Lawrence. It's quite long, but I didn't want to put just pieces of it on here, so here's the whole poem. The end is especially relevant to Aristophanes's speech.

TORTOISE SHOUT

I thought he was dumb,
I said he was dumb,
Yet I've heard him cry.

First faint scream,
Out of life's unfathomable dawn,
Far off, so far, like a madness, under the horizon's dawning rim,
Far, far off, far scream.

Tortoise in extremis.

Why were we crucified into sex?
Why were we not left rounded off, and finished in ourselves,
As we began,
As he certainly began, so perfectly alone?

A far, was-it-audible scream,
Or did it sound on the plasm direct?

Worse than the cry of the new-born,
A scream,
A yell,
A shout,
A pæan,
A death-agony,
A birth-cry,
A submission,
All tiny, tiny, far away, reptile under the first dawn.

War-cry, triumph, acute-delight, death-scream reptilian,
Why was the veil torn?
The silken shriek of the soul's torn membrane?
The male soul's membrane
Torn with a shriek half music, half horror.

Crucifixion.
Male tortoise, cleaving behind the hovel-wall of that dense female,
Mounted and tense, spread-eagle, out-reaching out of the shell
In tortoise-nakedness,
Long neck, and long vulnerable limbs extruded, spread-eagle over her house-roof,
And the deep, secret, all-penetrating tail curved beneath her walls,
Reaching and gripping tense, more reaching anguish in uttermost tension
Till suddenly, in the spasm of coition, tupping like a jerking leap, and oh!
Opening its clenched face from his outstretched neck
And giving that fragile yell, that scream,
Super-audible,
From his pink, cleft, old-man's mouth,
Giving up the ghost,
Or screaming in Pentecost, receiving the ghost.

His scream, and his moment's subsidence,
The moment of eternal silence,
Yet unreleased, and after the moment, the sudden, startling jerk of coition, and at once
The inexpressible faint yell
And so on, till the last plasm of my body was melted back
To the primeval rudiments of life, and the secret.

So he tups, and screams
Time after time that frail, torn scream
After each jerk, the longish interval,
The tortoise eternity,
Agelong, reptilian persistence,
Heart-throb, slow heart-throb, persistent for the next spasm.

I remember, when I was a boy,
I heard the scream of a frog, which was caught with his foot in the mouth of an up-starting snake;
I remember when I first heard bull-frogs break into sound in the spring;
I remember hearing a wild goose out of the throat of night
Cry loudly, beyond the lake of waters;
I remember the first time, out of a bush in the darkness, a nightingale's piercing cries and gurgles startled the depths of my soul;
I remember the scream of a rabbit as I went through a wood at midnight;
I remember the heifer in her heat, blorting and blorting through the hours, persistent and irrepressible;
I remember my first terror hearing the howl of weird, amorous cats;
I remember the scream of a terrified, injured horse, the sheet-lightning
And running away from the sound of a woman in labor, something like an owl whooing,
And listening inwardly to the first bleat of a lamb,
The first wail of an infant,
And my mother singing to herself,
And the first tenor singing of the passionate throat of a young collier, who has long since drunk himself to death,
The first elements of foreign speech
On wild dark lips.

And more than all these,
And less than all these,
This last,
Strange, faint coition yell
Of the male tortoise at extremity,
Tiny from under the very edge of the farthest far-off horizon of life.

The cross,
The wheel on which our silence first is broken,
Sex, which breaks up our integrity, our single inviolability, our deep silence
Tearing a cry from us.

Sex, which breaks us into voice, sets us calling across the deeps, calling, calling for the complement,
Singing, and calling, and singing again, being answered, having found.

Torn, to become whole again, after long seeking for what is lost,
The same cry from the tortoise as from Christ, the Osiris-cry of abandonment,
That which is whole, torn asunder,
That which is in part, finding its whole again throughout the universe.

D.H. Lawrence

Eryximachus

I thought that Eryximachus made some interesting points in his speech in the Symposium. Since he is a doctor he compares the two different types of love to two conditions of the human body - healthy or diseased. Just like in medicine, everything that contributes to health must be encouraged in regard to love. He makes the comparison between overeating and debauchery to show that moderation is necessary when it comes to love, too. Otherwise it becomes unhealthy.

Eryximachus also draws parallels between music and love. Pleasing and enjoyable music has a balance and a certain tension. There is a duality to everything, and love is not excluded from this. Like music and seasons and weather (hot and cold, wet and dry), there must be harmony between heavenly, spiritual love and common, vulgar love. These opposites create a balance, which is ideal when it comes to love.

The greatest thing you'll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return.

In the past few days I have watched two movies and read a novel that are directly related to class. Classical literature really does permeate everything we see and do.

To begin with, I just reread The Awakening by Kate Chopin. And there is part where Mademoiselle Reisz feels Edna's shoulder blades to see if her wings are strong. She says to Edna, "The bird that would soar above the level plain of tradition and prejudice must have strong wings. It is a sad spectacle to see the weaklings bruised,
exhausted, fluttering back to earth." Edna encounters beautiful things which initiates her growth and enlightenment. Her awakening necessitates her wings growing in; however, in the end she discovers that her wings are not strong enough to transcend her world, and she relinquishes herself to the sea.

As I was just typing the previous few lines, my train of thought led me to Jonathan Livingston Seagull. He is the seagull who is unwilling to conform to regular gull life, becomes an outcast, and is taken to a "higher plane of existence." It takes JLS a lot of hard work, but unlike Edna, he doesn't give up and is rewarded for it.

Anyhow, I watched one of my favorite movies, Moulin Rouge, this weekend, partly because of things we were talking about in class. When we were discussing courtesans, I thought of Nicole Kidman's character, Satine. She is a very striking yet very tragic woman, much like the other "kept women" that we discussed in class. Moulin Rouge is also a movie of Aphrodite and Eros, as it is all about love. And, it can also be a form of catharsis for me. Although I didn't cry this last time that I watched it, it often helps me purge my emotions. Somehow I feel better when it is over, even though it is so sad.

The other movie that I watched was An Unfinished Life. Today when I was reading the introduction to the Symposium, it made me think about Robert Redford's character who loses his son and can't move on for many years. Someone makes a comment in the movie that it is wrong to outlive one's child. And I figured out why this is, or one reason for this. According to Alexander Nehamas who wrote the introduction to the Symposium, "[the] desire to reproduce, which is also a desire for immortality, may involve physical offspring, glory, or good deeds in general - anything that springs from the individual but stays behind after the individual's death" (xix). I suppose that leaving a legacy when one dies is a motive for having children (perhaps subconsciously for most people), but I think that simply missing someone and knowing that he should be there is very hard as well.

Men and Women

I think that of the five categories in Antigone, the one I'm most interested in is men and women. I think. Although, the individual and society is also interesting.

In response to Dr. Sexson's question about having a miscommunication with someone of the opposite sex, I have to say that I have. I can't think of a specific example, but occasionally my now ex-boyfriend and I would not be able to convey to each other what we meant. Or at least I felt that I wasn't coming across like I wanted to. The argument or conversation usually started out about something really silly, too, but it quickly turned into a much bigger deal because we couldn't explain ourselves in ways that the other could understand. Very frustrating and maddening. But I suppose that's just the way it is every now and then with men and women.

Antigones

Bottom of page 250 through 251:

In this excerpt from Antigones, Steiner discusses the aspect of the play regarding the laws that govern humans. In lines 450-460, Antigone expresses her belief that the gods' "unfailing unwritten laws" that "live for all time" are paramount, not Creon's transient, earthly ones.

Steiner says that man was at home in timelessness; he was before or outside of history. Man was comfortable, and better off, when he didn't have to be of a certain time and when he followed rules that were applicable to any epoch in time. But the rational organization of time into historical events occurred and did considerable damage to the human condition. Antigone falls into the former category - Creon into the latter, which is the destructive one.

The timeless rules, or natural laws, of human relations are about "loving immediacy" and "unquestioning care," which Antigone understands. This is why she goes against her society's laws, knowing and disregarding the consequences, in order to take care of her brother's body. She doesn't care about ephemeral rulers and their silly laws; instead she feels compassion toward her fellow human beings, and especially toward her own flesh and blood. Her values are the antithesis of Creon's. He wishes to maintain order and carry out his edicts to save face, at the cost of what is natural to humans. Antigone tries to explain her motive to Creon, but he just doesn't get it. He's been too much affected by "the mutations, the transitory illusions, the divisive experiments, of a historical and political system" (251). Otherwise he would be more humane.

After Antigone's speech and condemnation of Creon, he doesn't have anything to say, to come back with. I love the following quote: "For time does not answer or, indeed, bandy words with eternity" (251). They're not on the same level whatsoever. Antigone and Creon cannot even communicate; she has transcended his world, or perhaps she never descended to it at all. Creon is bound to the timely, secular affairs of earth, and she won't acknowledge them. For this reason, her death sentence from Creon is meaningless to her. She had already learned that "only the full acceptance of death can yield a mortal lastingness."

Antigone's family and the fact that she will die without ever experiencing marriage or childbirth are of the highest import to her. But she knows she has power of her own, and she uses it to get the upper hand in this situation, by adhering to higher beliefs and in the end by taking her own life.

Love Triangles... Nothing New

As I was reflecting on the recent news story about the astronaut who was charged with attempted murder of a woman who she perceived as her "romantic rival," it occurred to me that I had already heard this story before - many times in fact. This woman, Lisa Nowak, became very jealous when she thought that another woman, Colleen Shipman, was involved with "her man," William Oefelein who is also an astronaut. So, Lisa drove more than 900 miles to accost and perhaps harm Colleen.

Her jealousy and the great lengths she goes to to threaten and punish this woman, who may or may not have been involved with the object of her obsession, remind me of Hera. She is forever infuriated by Zeus and his affairs with other women, but she takes it out on his lovers instead of him.

In the story of Io, Zeus of course falls in love with her, and in order to hide Io and himself from Hera, he first tries enveloping the earth in thick clouds. But, Hera is on to them, so when she comes down to earth, Zeus kindly turns poor Io into a white heifer. Hera insists on him giving the cow to her as a gift, which he cannot refuse; otherwise he will confirm her suspicions. Then Hera has Argus, the thing with a hundred eyes, watch Io. So, Zeus sends his son Hermes, the messenger of the gods, to the rescue. Hermes plays lovely songs on his reed pipe and tells stories to try to put Argus to sleep in order to abscond with Io. However, this is a very difficult task, because usually he sleeps with some of his eyes open. At long last Hermes is successful in getting him to shut all one hundred of his eyes, and then he kills Argus. (And, Hera put his eyes on the tail of the peacock, her favorite bird.) Hera is still very mad, so she sends a gad-fly to torment Io, which keeps her on the run for a very long time. When she finally reaches the Nile, Zeus restores her, and she lives happily ever after.

A jealous woman is never a good thing. And, I don't think that in the astronaut's case there will be a happy ending. Fortunately, or unfortunately (depending on one's perspective), Lisa Nowak was not a goddess. But, her antics have inflicted suffering on all those involved, including her own family. And as Io was plagued by Hera's wrath, certainly Colleen Shipman will be afraid that crazy Lisa might make another attempt on her life and be successful this time. (Although, Lisa Nowak is wearing a monitoring device.) If there is a lesson to be learned from this, perhaps it is that it is best to stay away from those who frequently hang out above the earth; they seem to be capable of wreaking a lot of havoc.

The Eluesinian Trinity and Acid

I was searching for information on Demeter and the Eluesinian Mysteries, and I found this relief of Demeter, Triptolemus, and Kore, the Eluesinian Trinity, at Wikipedia.org. Triptolemus was another son of Celeus and therefore brother to Demophoon, who Demeter attempted to make immortal. In the Homeric Hymn to Demeter, Triptolemus is only mentioned in passing. But, according to this article, he was one of the original priests of the Eluesinian Mysteries and the one to which Demeter taught the art of agriculture. I expected this relief to be of the "Triple Goddess," Demeter, Persephone, and Hecate, that Dr. Sexson talked about in class. Apparently old Triptolemus was an important guy though. I also thought it was interesting that in such a female based religion a male priest would play such an important role in the ceremonies or rituals. For more information on Triptolemus, go to http://http://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?title=Triptolemus&oldid=100063165

The Kore is the young maiden, who is of course Persephone, and she is often portrayed in Greek art wearing a robe and holding a sheaf of grain. Persephone is usually referred to as "The Maiden" by the Greeks, because as the Queen of the Dead, her name is not safe to say aloud.

The religion related to the Eluesinian Mysteries was one of the greatest religions of all time, which was supposed to be kept secret. The ceremonies were held every five years, and the "initiation rites united the worshipper with god, and included promises of divine power and rewards in life after death."

It is thought by some that the special drink, which is called kykeon, that the iniates drank at the ceremonies caused the participants to trip out, which they interpreted as profound spiritual experiences. The barley in it acts as a psychadelic agent similar to LSD. The fungus ergot is the cause of this, which you may remember is also believed to have caused the physical symptoms that led to many accusations in the witch trials that took place in New England in the 17th Century. I thought that this was a very interesting detail of the Eluesinian Mysteries.

All of this info I found at www.wikipedia.org