Friday, August 11, 2023

No Casper, no Dante, no Halloween


Ofrendra by Norma Rios Sierra (Field Museum)


     Unlike you, I actually read books of contemporary poetry. Because they float my way and I like the cover. Or, in the case of “Citizen Illegal,” because a college-age neighbor loaned me José Olivarez’s 2018 debut collection. I take the literary recommendations of young people as a compliment, nearly a duty.
     I enjoyed Olivarez’s casual, lowercase tone, his honesty, nodding along as he explains how his therapist, encouraging him to “make friends with your monsters,” doesn’t realize just how relentless those beasts can be.
...i ran & it never stopped
chasing me. each new humiliation
coming to life & following after me.
     I forgave Olivarez the occasional broadside fired in my direction, such as in “Mexican Heaven,” which begins:
there are white people in heaven, too,
they build condos across the street
& ask the Mexicans to speak English.
     Well, yeah, we white folks can be jerks.
     The poem ends:
i’m just kidding.
there are no white people in heaven.
    Of course not. There can’t be, because white people don’t die. At least that’s the impression I took away last week from “Death: Life’s Greatest Mystery” at the Field Museum.
     The grim reaper gives us a tour of the globe. We see a Mexican ofrenda, eight paintings of a decomposing Japanese monk, a Ghanaian coffin decorated as a boat, a Haitian spirit flag, Peruvian mummies.
     I particularly liked the mask of Tai Shan Wang, a denizen of Chinese hell, “Judge of the 7th Court, where liars and gossipers had their tongues removed.”
     “Mmm, nice,” I thought. “We could sure use ...” Better stop there.
     Animals were not overlooked. A deep-sea octopus seems very angry to find himself in a jar of preservative. One display explores grief in the animal world.

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13 comments:

  1. Sunday will be my 65th birthday. God willing, which reminds me of my favorite birthday gift which was a subscription to poetry magazine. I had it for about 3 years and I'm still reading it on a regular basis. My favorite contemporary book of poetry is Black oak by Harold Green and his companion piece. Black roses. Don't estimate your readers. Mr. S

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    1. Happy birthday! I like the "God willing" — two days away, I'd say you have it in the bag, although ... you never know. Thanks for the "Black Oak" recommendation — I've ordered it. As for underestimating readers — I assume you mean the "unlike you" beginning — it's more of a wink. No matter what I write, there will be readers to whom it doesn't apply. No slight intended.

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    2. Occasionally, I feel underestimated by one of the "unlike you" tweaks. Uh, not this time!

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  2. The thought came to me that it is more than likely all those artifacts owned by the museum were collected by white anthropologists/archeologists. They already were familiar with white traditions, and found these curious.

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  3. Ellen K, an excellent observation.
    "Unlike you," applies to me. I have a tin ear for poetry, and generally avoid anything post-Keats.

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    1. Try some poetry by Billy Collins-easy to understand and covering so many subjects-just a pleasure to read-

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  4. We don’t usually see horses or squirrels in the zoo, either.

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    1. I always see squirrels at the zoo, as they wander around uncaged. And zoos often have zebras which are similar to horses & also Pryzwalski's horses, which are wild Mongolian horses.

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  5. Why would we need a museum to showcase how white culture addresses death, burials and funerals? It seems a little silly to get my nose out of joint because funeral cards, black clothing, wakes and after-funeral luncheons aren't being highlighted.

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    1. "Nose out of joint" overstates the case. When you have an exhibit that purports to cover the entire world, you tend to know what's missing. I mean they touch every base. Jewish rituals. Muslim rituals. Palestinian rituals. Hindu rituals. Buddhist rituals. It seemed an oversight, and I was curious why. If you want to consider that "silly," well, be my guest.

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  6. If you want to understand white Chicago death rituals, go to the southeast corner of Devon and Glenwood. Maloney Funeral Home. Exit the front door, cross Glenwood where The Glenway, a typical Chicago neighborhood bar, provided relief for the grieving members of my family, not 75 feet from the deceased. You'll need some imagination as it is now a coffee house, or something.

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  7. Yeah, and why are there so many dinosaur bones in that place and so few Golden Retrievers and house cats? ; )

    You have a point, but I'm not sure I'd be standing in line behind Fox News in order to make it. Agreeing with John Catanzara in Wednesday's paper and Hannity and Carlson in today's -- you're on a roll!

    "Exclusion is exclusion." And I don't doubt that much of the world is excluded from this exhibit, by necessity. They can't possibly "touch every base," just many. You're rooting for the familiar when it seems the point is to shed light on the less familiar.

    However much time and space they carved out for Halloween would have impacted how much they devoted to something else. And Halloween has more than a month dedicated to it in this pathetic country, with Halloween stores showing up in so many unused retail spaces that it boggles the mind. Fox News will be happy to tell you that this is a Christian nation -- one needn't go to a museum to learn about Christian rituals, but if you want to, there are plenty of places to do so. I'm not going to be holding the omission against the Field Museum, that's for sure.

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  8. Exclusion and hazing seem like two very different things at face value, but it makes sense to compare them here. What a useful way to contemplate social injustice.

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