The Ecstasy of Saint Teresa

The religious experience is shocking. And its very very real. You can feel it.

But the majority of people who are not religious or spiritual would be extremely hard pressed to ever notice or understand it. That's why very often the experience is described in very sexualized terms. I wan't comment on why this is done. But I find this theme very common to not only some of the Christian religious poetry, but also to some of the Bhakti poets of medieval India, as well as the sufi saints in Islam, in particular Jalal ud din Rumi.

Just to confirm my views, I had emailed Sister Ananda, my literature teacher, as well as a nun.My email was thus:

"I am not sure if you are aware or not, but my plans for MA didn't work out as I planned, (actually hardly anything in my life works out according to PLANS). So, now I'm studying fashion designing.We have a module called costume studies, which is basically art and culture of the world, or history of art, its one of my favourite subjects, because it comes closest to literature and history. My latest assignment is to develop a mood board and colour board based on the paintings of Rubens. While I was researching his style, I came across the Baroque sculpture called The Ecstasy of St. Teresa. If you click here, you will be able to see it. If you aren't able to open the link, open the site

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ecstasy_of_St_Theresa .

Sister, what I wanted to ask you was that, St. Teresa's expression of Ecstasy is often described as one of almost physical fulfillment. Now, is this somewhat similar to what the Bhakti Poets were talking about? The sense of being filled with the Holy Spitit? And the Mystic Union? I don't know why this thought just popped into my head while I was reading about the statue. Though Ms. Kanoria taught us this section, I don't know why I thought you were the best person to ask this.
Please let me know what you think."


Sister Ananda replied:
"Yes, you're spot on - the mystical experience is indeed very close to physical fulfilment, and whether we are speaking of the Christian mystics, or the Bhakti poets, the experience is often articulated in physical, even sexual terms. The experience is indeed one of being filled with the Holy Spirit, and one of Mystical Union, where all boundaries of self and other fall away and the divine and the human become one.

I'm sorry it's taken me so long to reply, but I've been run off my feet recently and haven't even had the time to check my mail properly."


FROM WIKIPEDIA: Description from St TERESA's Autobiography

The two central sculptural figures of the swooning nun and the angel with the spear derive from an episode described by Teresa of Avila, a mystical cloistered Discalced Carmelite reformer and nun, in her autobiography, ‘The Life of Teresa of Jesus’ (1515–1582). Her experience of religious ecstasy in her encounter with the angel is described as follows:

“ I saw in his hand a long spear of gold, and at the iron's point there seemed to be a little fire. He appeared to me to be thrusting it at times into my heart, and to pierce my very entrails; when he drew it out, he seemed to draw them out also, and to leave me all on fire with a great love of God. The pain was so great, that it made me moan; and yet so surpassing was the sweetness of this excessive pain, that I could not wish to be rid of it. The soul is satisfied now with nothing less than God. The pain is not bodily, but spiritual; though the body has its share in it. It is a caressing of love so sweet which now takes place between the soul and God, that I pray God of His goodness to make him experience it who may think that I am lying."

Given the sexualized imagery of St. Teresa's written account of the experience, some critics have seen in the statue a depiction of physical orgasm; in particular, the body posture and facial expression of St. Teresa have caused some to assign her experience as one of climactic moment.Jacques Lacan, for example, whilst discussing the female orgasm, said that "you only have to go and look at Bernini's statue in Rome to understand immediately that she's coming, there is no doubt about it."

Shall I compare Slumdog Millionaire's Ring- ring- ringa to John Donne's The Flea?

Poetry being one of my passions, there is a wide variety of poems that I really enjoy. However, there are some poems, as well as some schools of poetry that have a very special place in my heart, and among those, are the Metaphysical poets and John Donne. One of his poems that is fun to read every single time is The Flea. Now, the interesting part is, these guys, Donne, Marvell and Herbert were supposed to write "metaphysical poetry" in attempts to bring the reader closer to God, there sure wrote a heck of poems that can't be described as Godly or religious from any point.

Case in point: the flea and Marvell's To his Coy Mistress... Both are highly entertaining and irreverent. The flea is specially an example of the Medieval notion of Carpe diem or "cease the day". Anyway, this post is about how Donne's flea finds a parallel in Slumdog Millionaire's song "ring ringa ringa". For the benefit of anyone who doesn't understand hindi, I'll try to translate it.

Hindi Lyrics: Chick Chikchi Chikchi, Chikchi Chikchi, Chikchi Chikchi, Chikchi Chikchi Chikchi Chikchi, Chikchi Chikchi, Chikchi Chikchi, Chikchi Chikchi (Ring Ring Ringa, Ring Ring Ringa, Ring Ring Ringa Ringa Ringa) - 2 Hayeeee!, Aye Ree!!!, Aahahh!!!! Chua Chua, Chua Chua Chua, Aye Ree! Chua Chua Ara Ra Ra Chua Chua Chikchi Chikchi Chua Chua, Chua Chua Chua Ayi Ayi Ayi Ya Mai Mai Ya, Ayi Ayi Ayi Ayi Yi Yi Yi

[ Ringa Ringa Song Lyrics @ http://www.hindilyrix.com ] (Ring Ring Ringa, Ring Ring Ringa, Ring Ring Ringa Ringa Ringa) -


2 Khatiye Pe Mein Padi Thi, Aur Gehri Neend Badi Thi Aage Kya Main Kahu Sakhi Re.. Ek Khatmal Tha Saiyana, Mujhpe Tha Uska Nishana Chunrai Mein Gus Gaya Dheere Dheere, Oooooo Ohhh Kuch Nahi Samjha O Buddhu, Kuch Nahi Socha Reng Ke Jaane Kaha Pahucha.. (Ring Ring Ringa, Ring Ring Ringa, Ring Ring Ringa Ringa Ringa)


- 2 I was lying on the bed in a deep slumber
What more can I say, my friend...
There was a smart little bed-bug, and I was it's target
It got inside my veil, slowly slowly, oooo ohhh
It didn't understand anything, it didn't think
God's knows where it crawled and reached...


Chikchi Chikchi, Chikchi Chikchi, Chikchi Chikchi, Chikchi Chikchi Haaye Woh Sharmaye, Haaye Woh Lajaye, Haaye Haaye Kya Chupaye Kitna Mein Taddpi Thi, Kitna Mein Royi Thi
Mein To Thi Acchi Bhali, Kyon Bhala Soi Thi
Nigade Ne Mujhko Chain Lene Na Diya Rona Bhi Chaha To Mujhko Rone Na Diya,
O Ho, Aise Us Harjai Ki Makkari
Mere Tan Badan Mein Thi Lagi Chingari, Per Aise Kya Thi Lachari O O Oohoo,
Are Haiya Haiya Hoo (Ring Ring Ringa, Ring Ring Ringa, Ring Ring Ringa Ringa Ringa) - 2
Haule Se Gudgudata, Dil Mein Hulchul Machata



Mein Sharm Se Thi Pani Pani.., Hahaha, Jo Usko Dhundthi Mein
Chupke Se Woh Chup Jata, Hahaha, Aise Thi Woh Meri Kahani..

Ooo Yun Samjlo Khatmal Ka Shikar Hui Thi Mein, Uske Aage Haar Gai Thi Mein


(Ring Ring Ringa, Ring Ring Ringa, Ring Ring Ringa Ringa Ringa) - 2 Hayeeee!, Aye Ree!!!, Aahahh!!!! Chikchi Chikchi, Chikchi Chikchi, Chikchi Chikchi, Chikchi Chikchi

I turned to jelly with shame, how could I search for it?
It would go and hide..that's my story
Just understand that I was it's victim, I surrendered to it. [ Ringa Ringa Song Lyrics @ http://www.hindilyrix.com ]

Of course, the hindi lyrics are a lot more graphic and direct, but the purpose of the flea is maintained. It's supposed to be a euphemism or a symbol of the hero's quest to convince his mistress to surrender to him, while in the Hindi song, she doesn't need the convincing, she's already seduced. It's a lot more direct.


THE FLEA. by John Donne

MARK but this flea, and mark in this,
How little that which thou deniest me is ; It suck'd me first, and now sucks thee,
And in this flea our two bloods mingled be.
Thou know'st that this cannot be said A sin, nor shame, nor loss of maidenhead ;
Yet this enjoys before it woo, And pamper'd swells with one blood made of two ;
And this, alas ! is more than we would do. O stay, three lives in one flea spare,
Where we almost, yea, more than married are.

This flea is you and I, and this Our marriage bed, and marriage temple is. Though parents grudge, and you, we're met, And cloister'd in these living walls of jet. Though use make you apt to kill me, Let not to that self-murder added be, And sacrilege, three sins in killing three.

Cruel and sudden, hast thou since Purpled thy nail in blood of innocence?
Wherein could this flea guilty be, Except in that drop which it suck'd from thee?
Yet thou triumph'st, and say'st that thou Find'st not thyself nor me the weaker now.
'Tis true ; then learn how false fears be ;
Just so much honour, when thou yield'st to me, Will waste, as this flea's death took life from thee.

Donne's speaker tries very valiantly to woo his mistress with humourous logic, but Slumdog's bedbug is the hero who just lands up and is successful in it's attempt.

Vikram Seth's 'Soon'

We studied Indian writers who write in English when I was in college. Amongst them was Vikram Seth.
Mr Seth is a very well educated, intellectual writer who has an unusuaaly sympathetic and sensitive tone. He is gay, and although being gay is no parameter or any relevant criterion in judgement of someones writing, as a student of literature, I've always felt that this factor of his life must have coloured his writing. Contrarily, it is entirely possible that he has assumed the mask of a gay man in writing a particularly poignant piece, yet some pieces must have been inspired by personal experience.
One of these is a heart wrenching poem called Soon. We had studied this poem, about a man dying of AIDS in class, with Ms. Shireen Vakil. We had a brilliant time discussing and analysing every facet of this poem in class, but for anyone who wants to read the poem, and doesnt have the benefit of a class full of young bright minds, and the Goddess of all literature teachers, Ms Vakil to guide them, the poem has been republished in a new book called AIDSsutra, a compilation of writings by Indian writers writing in English. The proceedings of the sales will benefit AIDS patients. Its a must read. HAven't been able to find it online. Will hunt for it at home.

CIAO!!

Words and Moods

I like to take things slow and steady. i hate rush jobs, 5 minute thingies are no fun for any people involved. i would personally hate to give any body a five minute job, and in turn would hate to receive one as well. theres no pleasure that can be had in just 5 minutes.it should be calm, steady and consistent. well paced.

I love the way the usage of certain words creates certain moods...our associations, often pre conceived or cliched associations. if aditi,mahima, surru,chamki or ritu ever read this, they'd know exactly what i mean!

by the way, i was talking about reading aloud poetry.

I don't want there to be a blank in the archives for the month of May. I've tried writing something a few times this past month, but I never got down to it. I feel dull and uninspired. I could blame it on the heat, but it isn't the heat. Just like Frost conteplating the destruction of his wall on elves..I could say elves to him...It's been quite surprisingly pleasant this year(it's been 42 degrees Celsius instead of the usual 47). iIguess it's the lack of stimulating company. It's not like I've stopped thinking about stuff or that things have stopped affecting me, I think I'm still reeling under the shock of being in that unsteady, unbalanced phase of life again. Everything is undecided and unsure. You know, like Auden said: the best lack all conviction..I think somewhere he also says we must love one another or die... although what that has to do with anything, I cannot say. Higher and higher in the widening gyre/the falcon cannot hear the fanconer/Things fall apart; the center cannot hold/ Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world...I don't know why all this poetry is suddenly spouting forth. Maybe it's because it's representative of a time when my life was surer,with more certainity. I knew my place in the world, in the scheme of things, unlike now.