Showing posts with label Alejo Carpentier. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Alejo Carpentier. Show all posts

Wednesday, October 31, 2012

Week Ten

"He stopped before the canopy adorned with his coat of arms. Two crowned lions upheld a shield displaying a crowned phoenix, with a device reading I rise from my ashes." (The Kingdom of This World, Alejo Carpentier, 140)



This is concept art of Fawkes the phoenix from Harry Potter. Since reading those books, I have been intrigued by the phoenix. Although I know it's a mythical creature, I find the concept of rebirth comforting. 

In my last post, I referenced the passage from The Kingdom of This World where Macandal is tossed into the fire. Although his followers believed that he escaped the fire by turning into another creature- in a sense, rising from the ashes- the reality is something quite different. Macandal's experience is not like our own though. We get tossed into fires on a frequent basis. These fires may come in the form of school, work, family issues, relationship problems, illness, and anything else that causes us stress. But unlike Macandal, we can actually rise from the ashes of these fires. 

We go through trials and tests that sometimes seem too hard to bear. Even small trials can be difficult to get through. Like the phoenix, though, we can get roughed up from these trials to the point that we figuratively burst into flames. We yell at our roommates because we are so tired of them not washing the dishes. Or we get so mad about a failed test that we can't forgive ourselves for not studying harder or paying more attention in class. Or we break down because we just can't fight with a friend anymore.

But then, after our moment (or moments) of weakness in whatever form it takes, we rise from the ashes. We find that we've grown and that we are stronger than before. It wasn't easy, but nothing in life is. 

I would say that this is a subtle, but recurring, theme in The Kingdom of This World.

Do you have any experiences where you've had the chance to rise from the ashes?


Wednesday, October 24, 2012

Week Nine

"Pandemonium followed. The guards fell with rifle butts on the howling blacks, who now seemed to overflow the streets, climbing toward the windows. And the noise and screaming and uproar were such that very few saw that Macandal, held by ten soldiers, had been thrust head first into the fire, and that a flame fed by his burning hair had drowned his last cry.... That afternoon the slaves returned to their plantations laughing all the way. Macandal had kept his word, remaining in the Kingdom of This World." (The Kingdom of This World, Alejo Carpentier, 46)

 As I scanned my memory for a time I may have witnessed such chaos, I stumbled on an event that, even though I may want to forget, I never will:


 I was just a kid when I saw the attacks unfold on that somber morning. I didn't understand the magnitude of what was happening. But I remember the news coverage showing people running and screaming and crying. I was going to include a video of a news report from that morning, but it was just too much.

I would venture to say that you can remember this tragedy anyway. If not, there are videos on YouTube.

What interests me the most about 9/11 and the pandemonium that occurred around Macandal's death is how much our perception can be skewed, our memories can falter. Or, in other cases, we may completely ignore reality. I think of all the conspiracy theories revolving around the terrorist attacks. The slaves that followed Macandal were entirely convinced that he made an escape. They were completely unaware that he was burned in the fire.

What do we overlook while we're amongst the pandemonium?

We are rarely in such devastating and chaotic situations. But our lives are busy. The pandemonium of daily life can consume us, and, if we're not careful, we may miss what is really happening, good or bad. 

Next time you find yourself getting caught up in the maelstrom of life, take a step back and understand what is going on around you. Otherwise, you may miss something that you'll regret.