Brain Drain

Archive for May, 2006

Until now, I have had very little contact with any religion outside of Christianity. I have been raised Catholic in a small town filled with mostly Catholics. I left the church after making my confirmation. Recently attending two ceremonies beyond my realm of knowledge, Friday prayer at the Muslim Mosque and the Hindu Festival of Shiva, I have found the exposure enjoyable and enlightening. Each experience merely scratched the surface of the deeper meaning it contained, but still, I felt intrigued with a growing curiosity.

My immediate reaction to Friday prayer at the mosque was surprise at the separation of the women from the men. Being an American woman, I took offense internally believing this to be sexual discrimination. Wanting to learn more, I respected their tradition and temporarily pushed my own feelings aside. I hung my coat and removed my shoes in the woman’s separate coat room. I took my place with the rest of the women behind a railing at the back of the room and waited for the ceremony to begin. I learned later that the men are required to attend public prayer while women have the option to attend or pray in private. It was difficult for me to believe when the speaker explained that the women prefer to be separate. My feathers were a bit less ruffled when I also learned that not all mosques are identical. In some, women pray on one side while men pray on the other rather than the women sitting at the back.

Prior to the ceremony I observed the men dressed in neutral, modest attire. The women’s attire was elaborately designed with American influence but still, it covered much of their bodies and heads. Modesty, whether decorative or not, is certainly regarded as the preferred method of dress. Hats and head coverings, if the meaning is similar to the Jewish tradition, may symbolize humility.

Waiting for the commencement of service, small boys leaned affectionately against their fathers and grandfathers as they sat patiently on the floor. A woman with both a small child and an infant sat beneath a sign asking mothers with children to observe the service from an alternate location. Women of all ages fawned over these children and seemed to pay no heed as the little girl danced around humming a song. This was obviously a community focused on family inclusion regardless of the initial exclusion I perceived.

All the people in attendance spent their time bowing, kneeling, and pressing their foreheads to the floor honoring God. They also incorporated hand gestures near their heads. These actions were somewhat similar to those in Catholicism, reminding me of genuflection and making the sign of the cross. Although I didn’t understand their true meaning, I understood that this was a way for the entire body, mind and spirit to align in prayer. This was never apparent in my own religious experience, but seeing the Muslims pray bridged that meaning for me for the first time.

The structure of the service wasn’t a far cry from the Catholic services I have known. The prayers were carried out with a clear beginning, middle and end. As the speaker delivered his sermon, the message was clearly global. He spoke with disdain about the greed present in this world and honored work being done by two members of the mosque easing hunger for the poor. He encouraged others to get involved, stretching themselves beyond their community and reaching toward a grand scale of improvement for all. This was to be achieved peacefully as he was sure to add that one should lead by example and not confrontation.

Before and after the ceremony, we learned about the five pillars of Islam:
• Iman: Faith or belief in the Oneness of God and the finality of the prophethood of Muhammad;
• Salah: Establishment of the daily prayers;
• Zakah: Concern for and almsgiving to the needy;
• Sawm: Self-purification through fasting; and
• Hajj: The pilgrimage to Makkah for those who are able.
These pillars define not only the religion, but the structure of a Muslims day, week, and entire life. The level of devotion to uphold each pillar must be all consuming and, at the same time, comforting.

The Hindu Festival of Shiva was an entirely different experience. The sounds and smells assaulted my senses as I entered the temple’s atrium. The bells were constant and loud within the temple and a small group was chanting. The incense smelled lovely and I couldn’t wait to see what was happening behind the door. I removed my shoes and coat and entered the temple feeling slightly overwhelmed. The space was alive with an undeniable energy and it made my head swim. The colors were vibrant, including everything from the extravagant statues with many hands to the women’s beautiful sarees. This was an experience for the entire body.

Shortly after our arrival, a man named Shree gave us a tour of the temple. He explained that the Hindu religion is really a state of being, reminding me of the Muslim belief. This reaches beyond the notion of compartmentalizing religion, keeping it separate from every day life. It is what you live every minute of every day. While Shree tried to explain his religion to us, it was difficult for him to offer us anything to relate to. It was as if his religion was so engrained that he had a difficult time putting it into words.

As we came upon the statues of the gods, although it was explained time and time again that there is only one god, we were first introduced to Brahma, Vishnu and Shiva. We then made our way around the temple to all the other Hindu gods. As it was explained, each Hindu god is like a Catholic saint. Since God is too important to attend to every need, people pray to these “specialty” gods for health or guidance in whatever direction they feel they need. I was most surprised, as I am finding much comfort in the book Start Where You Are by Buddhist nun, Pema Chödrön, that Buddha is the smallest and least decorated statue in the temple. As it turns out, he is rarely recognized by the Hindu people anymore.

Shiva, for whom this festival is thrown, is the god of destruction. Without a negative connotation, the meaning is that he destroys to create. The tables were covered with offerings of food in his honor. When it was time to make the offerings, the bells rang out. Men held conch shells high in the air and blew high pitched calls through them. Milk, honey, orange juice and other foods were poured over the statue of Siva. I watched in amazement as people chanted and sang. The chants were ancient from Sanskrit writings and the prayer leader led the people through what to say. He seemed to have memorized every portion.

The rhythm of the ceremony ebbed and flowed, rising in energy as it proceeded. The prayer leader, without his bare chest, had broken a sweat. The room was getting warmer. This went on for some time until a curtain was drawn across Sivas room. Chanting continued but I couldn’t help wondering what was happening. This air of mystery during this part of the ceremony was as prevalent as that in the imagery of the gods with their multiple hands and animal heads.

When the curtain was opened, the statue of Siva was adorned in beautiful flowers and fruit. The display was impressive. At this time, several bowls of a creamy substance were passed around. The cream seemed to be made from a mixture of the offerings. It was orange and sweet smelling. People dipped their fingers into the bowl and wiped some of the waxy mixture on their foreheads. Perhaps it was meant to symbolize the eye of god, much like the red dots the women wear on their foreheads. One man explained that nothing went to waste here.

Cash offerings were made as a plate was passed around. The plate itself held a burning flame. People waved their hands over it directing it’s energy toward their faces. It appeared as if they were receiving a blessing and I believe the candle was part of the offering ceremony just as the bowl of the creamy substance was.

After the ceremony, I stayed to watch the young children perform songs and dance. The dress was elaborate and the dance mysterious. One young girl stole the show with her rolling eyes and odd hand motions. Her movement exemplified what the statues would look like if they were to come alive with motion.

I found these experiences widely different from each other in practice. The Friday prayer service at the mosque was much more rigid than the Hindu Siva Festival. Muslim practice is structured with the tools of time, dress, and repetition while the Hindu ceremony ran on “temple time,” following the flow of the room and the mood of the people. There was a freedom of motion and participation not found in the mosque. The Hindu temple was animated and exciting while the Temple was quietly serene and reverent. I enjoyed from both the noise and the quiet, the soft colors and the vibrant, the formality and the fluidity.

Stevie Verloc: The Anarchist with a Complete Morality in Joseph Conrad’s The Secret Agent

Morality is generally understood to be a code of conduct put forth by society, but in Joseph Conrad’s novel, The Secret Agent, two conflicting societies have different interpretations of what that means. While government agencies strive to maintain law, order and preserve their power, the anarchists’ mission is to upset governmental order by way of chaos, moving mankind toward enlightenment and individual freedom. The self-proclaimed anarchists in Conrad’s novel may collectively embody aspects of that ideal, yet each of them lacks some key element, whether it be identification with or analyzing the plight of the common man, or the ability to act out against convention. Surprisingly, it is the incompetent and unlikely Stevie who fully realizes these inherent anarchic virtues. It is he who has, as the narrator states, a “complete morality” (126).

Conrad uses image and appearance as an important component to define the ironic shortcomings of his anarchist characters. Mr. Vladimir conveys this significance of appearance to the corpulent Mr. Verloc when he scolds, “You haven’t even got the physique of your profession. You – a member of a starving proletariat – never!” (16). To live like the proletariat is to understand the plight of the common man. Mr. Verloc’s obesity symbolizes his ties to the convention of the lazy bourgeoisie and also to his lack of productivity, in particular his inability to provoke change. Michaelis can be accused of the same as he comes “out of a highly hygienic prison round like a tub” (31) and is sent to Marienbad by a wealthy woman for three seasons (31). Michaelis enjoys the conventions of the bourgeoisie. This is evident by way of his bulk, the mention of his wealthy, dietary benefactor and his relationship with the Assistant Commissioner. Karl Yundt, being frail and toothless, is portrayed as a man whose bark is worse than his bite. “His enunciation would have been almost totally unintelligible to a stranger” (32). The only people who understand what he’s saying are those who already know his point, rendering him ineffectual to change the minds of those who do not. In the grand scheme of the novel, not one of these images exemplifies the attributes of a true anarchist.

Conversely, Stevie’s appearance projects anarchy in every aspect. He is described as “delicate, and in a frail way, good-looking too, except for the vacant droop of his lower lip” (7). This boy is thin, fragile and, unlike Mr. Verloc or Michaelis, more representative of the proletariat. His lower lip symbolizes his intense compassion. It droops even further when he witnesses the unjust treatment of any living being. When frustrated with “the poor cabman beating the poor horse in the name of, as it were, of his poor kids at home” (126), “a magnanimous indignation swelled his frail chest to bursting” (124). This image of Stevie’s chest about to burst is not unlike that of a bomb about to explode. Stevie is the bomb, a true instrument of change. While Stevie’s physical expression is telling of his character, the images he creates on paper also illustrate his pure anarchist qualities. If one circle represents the ideal, Stevie’s drawings of consecutive circles become directly representative of chaos beyond what any anarchist propaganda can achieve. It is obvious that Stevie is unable to discuss the principles of anarchy as do the others in their meetings, but he speaks volumes with his actions and reactions.

Anarchists believe that property and ownership is an oppressive crime of the bourgeoisie. Still, throughout the novel, the anarchists remain tied to the convention of money because this very system they fight against is one that they must also function within. Mr. Verloc is rattled to his core at the threat of Mr. Vladimir cutting off his paycheck, reacting “with all the force of his will against that sensation of faintness running down one’s legs” (20). Ossipon, while considering the demise of his publication, concerns himself with where his next paycheck will come from. Surprisingly, the Professor, one of the most credible anarchists in his willingness to detonate himself for change, also shows this vulnerability to convention. Once Mr. Verloc is dead and Comrade Ossipon asks the Professor what he should do next, the Professor replies, “Fasten yourself upon the woman for all she’s worth” (59). Following this instruction to attain Winnie’s money, Ossipon reveals his desire for power, to govern Winnie in place of Mr. Verloc and to assume her possessions. Neither the Professor nor Ossipon has achieved their goal of living free. Instead, they are jockeying for ownership, money and power as much as those they fight against.

Dissimilarly, Stevie is not bound by the rules of ownership and money. Provided for by his family and free from financial burden, Stevie gives all he has to the poor. In the case of Mrs. Neale, a woman who does housework at the Verloc’s, she repeatedly presents to Stevie a story about her poor, infant children. This is done to manipulate Stevie’s emotions until he offers Mrs. Neale a shilling on their behalf. “In the normal evolution of his sympathy Stevie had become angry on discovering that he had no shilling in his pocket. In his inability to relieve at once Mrs. Neale’s ‘little ‘uns’ privations, he felt that someone should be made to suffer for it” (137). Stevie then strikes the table with his fist, angry over the plight of Mrs. Neale’s children. He is selfless in motive and unaware of the injustice preying upon him, only wishing to help those in need. In this situation, Stevie’s detachment from his own money combines with his explosive reaction toward the unjust oppression of the poor and his anger over the inability to initiate change.

Another shortcoming of the anarchists is the willingness to analyze what is happening directly in front of them. Neither Mr. Verloc nor Winnie likes to scratch below the surface of circumstance until Stevie becomes a catalyst for this behavior. Their marriage, in Mr. Verloc’s mind, is one based on Winnie’s love for him and his admiration of her. Oddly, even after Mr. Verloc sends Stevie off with the bomb and the boy is killed, he still believes he is “loved for himself” (191). In truth, Winnie always acts the role of dutiful wife and would have continued that role had Stevie not been a part of the chaos that rattled her foundation. She merely tolerates Mr. Verloc until the moment she despises him for murdering her brother. Not until that moment does she finally admit to herself that this union is a marriage of convenience, simply a way to keep her mother and Stevie safely with her. She explains this to Comrade Ossipon, saying of Mr. Verloc, “He seemed kind. He wanted me, anyhow. What was I to do with mother and that poor boy?” (202). Winnie suddenly realizes that she is no longer responsible for Stevie’s needs and is subsequently free from Mr. Verloc. Without the catalyst of Stevie’s death, Mr. Verloc and Winnie may have indefinitely gone on looking solely at the surface of things.

Stevie, by comparison, is an analyst. He looks at the world around him and is distraught by the injustice he sees. As early as age fourteen, on his first job, Stevie sets off fireworks in his office building and is fired. This is not a naughty prank. It is eventually discovered that this is a reaction to the other office boys “working upon his feelings by tales of injustice and oppression til they had wrought his compassion to the pitch of frenzy” (7). This type of reaction resurfaces when Stevie sees the starved horse and poor cabbie as he walks Winnie across the street. Without the language to articulate his feelings, all he can explosively stammer is “Poor! Poor!” and “Shame!” (125). While his external expression is extremely simple, a great deal more is going on internally. “Jostled, but obstinate, he would remain there, trying to express the view newly opened to his sympathies of the human and equine misery in close association” (125). Stevie sees injustice without shying away. He faces it directly on an emotional level and then explodes.

Stevie is not an anarchist of intellectual words like those anarchists who write and sell propaganda in the novel. For him, this is not an intellectual journey open to debate. Stevie’s anarchism stems from the core of his being and clearly shines through his actions, whether apparent in his physical appearance, his outbursts, or his art. In small, unplanned events, he reacts to the disorder of oppression in a way that, in itself, upsets the order of things. Stevie is chaos. It is this principle that makes him a true anarchist without self declaration. It is this everyday embodiment of anarchy that attracts Mr. Verloc, who draws upon Stevie as a resource to detonate his bomb. Although the effect was not as intended, Stevie, in his “complete morality” ultimately becomes the instrument of change.