The Heythrop Journal, Volume 63, Issue 4, Page 652-665, July 2022.

Most religious texts and practices warrant the exclusion of women from religious rituals and public spheres during the menstrual flow. This is seemingly at odds with the very idea of ‘Religion’ which binds the human beings with God without any gender and sexual discrimination. The present article attempts to problematize the ascription of negative values on menstruating women prevalent in both Hinduism and Christianity, two major world religions of the East and the West. After briefly stating the patriarchal values that (...) restrict women from participating in religious rituals and shaming them during menstruation as seen from both these religions, the article highlights the alternate feminist perspectives in beliefs that positively value the menstruating bodies. Thus, the notion of profanity is revalued as sacred in these alternate religious perspectives.Drawing from the writings of Mary Douglas, we then examine the connection between the notion of purity/impurity and menstruation and argue that what makes something pure or impure depends upon the archetype the society chooses to represent itself. In itself, nothing is either pure or impure in the sense of having a value or disvalue. This argument is exemplified through a feministic-hermeneutic approach to the religious practices in two major world religions. The article concludes by uncovering the patriarchal values held by religions as the cause of menstrual taboos in religious practices and argues that the notions of purity/impurity and sacred/profane are the results of the valuations made—from a patriarchal or feministic perspective. (shrink)

The day is one of the fundamental experiences of our natural existence. The obvious cycle of the sun, the alternation of sleep and being awake provide a link between the life of the body and the great regularity that assigns their successive moments to light and to darkness. Only a simplified abstraction allows us to consider time lived as an homogeneous flow. Our existence, in its proper substance and in its larger environment, is dominated by the rhythm of days and (...) nights. Our very experience of the reality of objects is subject to it: the universe of things depends on the light of day that reveals it. It shrivels and becomes uncertain when night falls, with terror and dreams taking its place. The evidence that appears with the clarity of day is not of the same order as apparitions that arise from the depth of darkness. (shrink)

No altar da Igreja de Santa Maria della Vittoria, encontramos a bela escultura de Bernini, denominada “O êxtase de Santa Teresa”. Símbolo da entrega ao gozo espiritual, a escultura do artista italiano representa Santa Teresa de Ávila recebendo do anjo a seta do amor divino, reprodução perfeita do êxtase místico e religioso. Esse trabalho tem como objetivo analisar a ocorrência de Teresas na literatura brasileira, como heroínas divididas entre o sacro e o profano. Propomos o estudo do romance Tereza Batista: (...) cansada de guerra, de Jorge Amado, a partir da intertextualidade com a tradição literária baiana, de Gregório de Matos e Castro Alves, e em contraponto ao pensamento religioso da obra lírica de Santa Teresa de Ávila, em diálogo com a escultura extática da santa, criada por Gian Lorenzo Bernini.Palavras-chaves: Santa Teresa de Ávila. Jorge Amado. Castro Alves. Gregório de Matos. Sagrado. Profano.At the altar of the Church of Santa Maria della Vittoria, is located the Bernini’s sculpture, called "The Ecstasy of St. Teresa." Symbol of surrender to spiritual joy, the sculpture by the Italian artist represents St. Teresa of Avila affected by the arrow of the Angel, perfect reproduction of the religious and mystical ecstasy. This article aims to analyze the occurrence of Teresas in Brazilian literature, as heroines divided between the sacred and the profane. We propose to study of the novel Tereza Batista: cansada de guerra, by Jorge Amado, from the intertextuality with the literary tradition of Bahia, of Gregorio de Mattos and Castro Alves, and in opposition to the religious thought of the lyrical work of St. Teresa de Ávila, in dialogue with the ecstatic sculpture of St. Tereza, by Gian Lorenzo Bernini.Keywords: St. Teresa of Ávila. Jorge Amado. Castro Alves. Gregório de Mattos. Sacred. Profane. (shrink)

This article explores the contrast of pilgrimage and tourism as sacred and profane journeys using Disney World and the Camino de Santiago as exemplars of such destinations. An entanglement of place structures reveals Disney World as a quasi-religious journey site for some whose tourist actions implicate a ritual centered on capitalist mythology. Disentangling sacred encounters and profane experiences demonstrates the role such places play in elevating community versus self-indulgence.

This book examines and clarifies the nature, meaning, significance, richness and vitality of the sacred, and several key theories of the sacred, in the context of science and religion, and philosophical ontology.

From the comparative framework of writing on the meaning of ritual in the field of the history of religions, this essay argues that one of the major problems in Benjamin’s thinking is how to make certain forms of materiality stand out against other forms. In his early work, the way that Benjamin deals with this problem is to call degraded forms “symbolic”, and those forms of materiality with positive value, “allegorical”. The article shows how there is more than an incidental (...) connection with the recent approach to ritual in the field of history of religions, seeing that Benjamin too wants to set out the significance of certain material forms against those that are “ritualistic” and hence false. It is argued that he treats the latter in his essay on Elective Affinities and the former in his Trauerspiel. The key claim is that the way material forms stand out as meaningful is akin to the Kantian description of the aesthetic attitude, which identifies how certain formations warrant and attract reflective attention and underpin moral orientation. The point is significant since Kantian aesthetics is an object of polemical attention across Benjamin’s heterogeneous corpus. Moreover, the approach shows the main difficulty in Benjamin’s treatment of sensible forms: what are the criteria he uses to distinguish the “bad” way a sensible form has of being meaningful from the “good”? (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Eschatology, Sacred and Profane* PHILIP MERLAN LET ME BEGINthis paper with a double motto. The first is from a German poet, C. F. Meyer. It reads in my own translation: "We hosts of the dead ones--more numerous are we--than you who tread the earth and you who sail the sea." The second is a piece of statistical information for the correctness of which, however, I cannot vouchsafe. (...) It reads: "From the time when man first appeared, 77 billion people have been born. Thus, today's population of about 3 billion represents only 4 per cent of all men ever born" (Universitas 6 [1964], p. 423). With these two mottoes in mind let me proceed. Kant is one of the great representatives of the belief both in a goal to history and in progress. As he sees it, this goal is one world-wide society living under one law, which law coincides with the demands of morality, or as we could also say, in which legality and morality at least do not conflict. Kant is convinced that nature will by-and-by compel man to establish this world-wide society characterized, among other things, by eternal peace. Thus, Kant is an optimist with regard to the future. Yet, he is profoundly pessimistic with regard to the past. For him, history is one long chain of sufferings inflicted on man by man; and on the whole he has a very dim view of man's nature. The synthesis of his pessimism with his optimism is contained in a remarkable sentence which we find in one of his last writings--1793, when Kant was 69. The title is On the Adage--This May be Right in Theory, But Is Inapplicable to Practical Purposes, and here he says: When one contemplates the evil which in the course of history man has inflicted on man, one would be inclined to give up in despair. But there is one thought on the thinking of which our mind will cheer up. It is the thought: things will improve in the future. This kind of cheer will be entirely benevolent and unselfish, for this improvement will take place after we * I am indebted for the posthumous edition of this paper of my late husband Philip Merlan to Professor Frederick Sontag of Pomona College. My husband prepared this paper for, and read it to, various philosophical groups. In the course of these readings, he made numerous pencil additions. Thus, what Professor Sontag has done, is to change the tone to suit a printed presentation and to work the additions into the text as the logic of the arguments and notes seemed to dictate. Franciszka Merlan. [193] 194 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY have been buried for a long, long time. We ourselves will not be able to harvest what we ourselves have helped to plant. (WW8, 273-13) In whose name did Kant speak? Who are the altruists who feel cheered up by the prospect of a goal which they themselves will not live to reach? No easy answer can be found in Kant's writings. However it would not be surprising if Kant, a Rousseauian in so many respects, retained some of Rousseau's belief in the innate goodness of man (in spite of his pietistic heritage which encourages him to see man as thoroughly corrupt). Thus, he expects everybody to be capable of this altruistic attitude. We all do then cheer up when we think of the prospects for mankind. This means that our altruism permits us in some way to participate in mankind's bright future, to reach the goal, if I may say so, in hope and expectation, though not physically. For Kant the problem of history was never in the center of his own interest, nor would he have admitted that it is of central importance for man. Hegel's attitude is quite different. Man's participation in history is Hegel's main topic. At this point let me remind you briefly of Hegel's fundamental ideas. The enlightenment and romanticism produced two highly characteristic interpretations of religion. According to the former, the kernel of every religion is morality. According to the latter, the... (shrink)

Christianity has been crucial in the conceptualization and articulation of the moral framework of the Western tradition. The social sciences, including ethics, were modeled on physical science. However, the Enlightenment project inculcated a metaphysics and an epistemology that reduced the subject to an object and thus undermined the conditions of freedom, agency and an accessible cosmic order; all of which are essential to morality. Competing value claims were shunted into a political context for resolution, but the politicalized morality itself requires (...) a framework for evaluating resolutions. While neither the Enlightenment nor post-modernism can provide such a framework, Christian tradition can, in fact, provide just such a framework and response. (shrink)

The three major philosophical responses to religious diversity includes exclusivism, inclusivism, and pluralism. These isms reflect distinct philosophical attitudes and presuppositions held by religious zealots, secular heathens, and all those wimpy fence‐sitting agnostics in between. To make their significance available to the uninitiated, this chapter explores these philosophical positions through the wisdom of the God Machine's high priests: Stephen Colbert, Rob Corddry, and Ed Helms. By examining the philosophical responses to religious diversity, one can begin to understand how the responses (...) often hinder—but sometimes help—attempts to reconcile contentious differences between the world's major religious traditions. The chapter outlines and provides illustrations of the philosophical solutions to the problem of religious diversity. (shrink)

Religion was always perceived as the threshold between two worlds. It is a space where individuals are supposed to be connected to a different reality through the mediating power of a particlular ritual, at a specific time and in a certain space. A new space of appearance is the expected outcome along with this relocation from profane to sacred. Religious broadcasting could be conceptualized as a visual and acoustic “altar”. The ritual, space and time are the pillars of (...) this audio-visual “cathedral” the very space that could build the bridge between sacred and profane, and the means for this mediated, symbolic transfer. This paper tries to outline the power of media representation in the context of religious broadcasting that uses ritual and imagination to maintain and negotiate the distinction between sacred and profane and to generate alternative narratives. In this regard, the religious broadcasting, presuming the sacerdotal role to represent, mediate and interpret the relationship between sacred and profane is being conditioned by a ritualized medium. As a result, the religious messages could end up as a ritualized mystification that would jeopardize the production of meaning. (shrink)

This article examines the notions of left and right poles of Georges Bataille’s sacredness and also analyses their complexity and ambiguous meaning of duality and binary’s contexts through a prism they are usually viewed. Particularly, key factors that influence Bataille’s thought of sacredness are being analysed, the criticism of wrong notion of sacredness interpretation by modern philosophers is being formed. Based on challenging positions of sacred and profane’s binary opposition and also revealing volatile and random movements between pure (...) and impure sacredness and between sacred and profane, Bataille’s philosophy actuality is being proved. Despite wide researches held in this field Bataille’s philosophy potential is still not fully revealed in relation to modern cultural and social researches of religion and philosophical anthropology. (shrink)

Joining his monumental erudition in the phenomenology of religion with affinity and skill in the arts, Gerardus van der Leeuw has produced a really beautiful work. Tracing the genesis of the various arts from an original unity in expressive religious dance, through their assertions of independence as distinctive secular forms marked by the individualism of their practioners, he tries to show that each art form structurally expresses an aspect of the holy. His concern is to prepare for the reunification of (...) the arts based on a religious esthetics. The writing is somewhat diffuse but graceful, the presentation descriptive rather than argumentative. Throughout, one senses the quality of the author's cultivation and concern. The posthumous translation and publication of this work gives his many admirers in the English-speaking world a fitting memorial of a beloved master.—W. G. E. (shrink)

In "primitive" cultures, dual symbolic classification systems draw rigid temporal and spatial boundaries between the sacred and the profane. The right and left hands are described as sacred and profane, respectively. Durkheim saw a weakening of these systems as an aspect of modernization. A weakening of such dichotomous reason is shown in two examples. First, Hertz's study of the suppression of the left hand among the Maori links the left hand to the right cerebral hemisphere of (...) the brain. The further inference he might have drawn, but did not, is that the right hemisphere and its pattern thinking might play a significant role in magic, sorcery, and witchcraft. The Maori physical confinement of the left hand is no longer practiced. Second, in the United States, Hugdahl et al. present data from eight one‐decade cohorts showing that the decrease in left‐handedness by age was countered by a corresponding increase in left‐to‐right hand switching. A lower life‐span by left handers might account for some of the change across age cohorts, but at least half of the decrease in manifest left‐handedness was accounted for by a gradual decrease in social pressure not to use the left hand. Implications for the moral solidarity of postmodern society are discussed. (shrink)

This article addresses the cultural commodification of the dress sign of the sacred body from contexts of `God' to its recontextualization within contexts of consumer capitalism or `Mammon'. The concept of religious dress `commodification' is employed heuristically to help make sociological sense of the seepage of dress sacra from religious contexts of origin to secular contexts of use. While other readings of the late modern career of the religious dress `text' are indeed possible, the suggestion here is that it (...) can be seen to float freely between the religious and secular domains and thus belongs to both as signage adding `religious' value to the material body for whatever purposes ñ commercial, erotic, ludic among others. (shrink)

Joining his monumental erudition in the phenomenology of religion with affinity and skill in the arts, Gerardus van der Leeuw has produced a really beautiful work. Tracing the genesis of the various arts from an original unity in expressive religious dance, through their assertions of independence as distinctive secular forms marked by the individualism of their practioners, he tries to show that each art form structurally expresses an aspect of the holy. His concern is to prepare for the reunification of (...) the arts based on a religious esthetics. The writing is somewhat diffuse but graceful, the presentation descriptive rather than argumentative. Throughout, one senses the quality of the author's cultivation and concern. The posthumous translation and publication of this work gives his many admirers in the English-speaking world a fitting memorial of a beloved master.—W. G. E. (shrink)

This essay is concerned with certain profane commemorations within the sacred or liturgical space. Besides Carnival, it focuses on the Festum asinorum, particularly the one celebrated in the town of Rouen, which comprised a magnificent procession, congregating the clergy and the people.Este texto trata de certas comemorações de caráter profano dentro do espaço sagrado ou litúrgico. Além do carnaval, enfoca-se a Festa do Asno, notadamente a celebrada na cidade de Rouen, que compreendia uma procissão com grande aparato, acompanhada (...) pelo clero e pelo povo. (shrink)

The Catholic Church – though in popular opinion it is sometimes treated as a stronghold of conservatism, traditionalism, suspicion of progress and novelty, it changed significantly in the second half of the 20th century and continues to change its attitudes, especially in terms of the use of social communication and attitude to the media mass. The Church’s growing openness to media relations and the use of a rich instrumentation of social communication has become one of the reasons for the growing (...) popularity of market orientation among the clergy and active believers, which opens opportunities for the development of the concept of a specific sectoral marketing formula of church marketing. In this article the authors search for the causes of the progressive phenomenon of the marketization of religion, present examples of the activities of the Polish Catholic church, inscribed in the church marketing trend, as well as define the negative consequences resulting from its dissemination. The applied research method is based on the literature analysis and case studies analysis. (shrink)

"Ever Since This World Began" from Love Dog (Penny-Ante Editions, 2013) by Masha Tupitsyn continent. The audio-essay you've recorded yourself reading for continent. , “Ever Since the World Began,” is a compelling entrance into your new multi-media book, Love Dog (Success and Failure) , because it speaks to the very form of the book itself: vacillating and finding the long way around the question of love by using different genres and media. In your discussion of the face, one of the (...) themes of Love Dog , I think there is something to be said about the surfaces media create and how you constantly manipulate them in your work. This seems important for thinking also about your book LACONIA: 1,200 Tweets on Film ; a book on film written in tweets, interposing already three sets of expectations and pushing the boundaries of each medium's faciality, it's surface tension. In Love Dog , is there another kind of facial interaction? Perhaps the discursive faces of approaching love as topic and love as method? If so, how did/do these intersect for you, do/did they drive the creation of this book? MASHA TUPITSYN With LACONIA and Love Dog , I wanted to pay homage to the work modernism has done on subjective time and chronological time by carrying that experiment over into the digital economy. Because LACONIA is a time-based work of cultural criticism that employs the aphorism to look at 21 st century American culture, it is also an archival work of cultural mourning and memory. And in Love Dog , which is also a work about mourning as it relates to love, I wanted to think with all my senses, and to reflect that in the writing itself by using a multi-media form. LACONIA tackled the sound bite and the promotional image--the everyday language of consumer culture--which often wants to communicate ideological agendas through the repetition of a single image or reductive phrase. I had always been interested in the approaches of artists like Barbara Kruger and Jenny Holzer and essayistic, typographical filmmakers, like Chris Marker and Godard. In both cases, I felt it was important to try to compose a book in which deep—critical—thinking happens in so-called immediate, informal, and disposable contexts. That is, in places where you are either not supposed to be serious or are not required to take things seriously. To me the most intervention is needed in every day instances of culture and representation. In order to do that, I had to utilize and interrogate the very structures I was critiquing. In other words, the writing had to materialize in that live, digital, public space. It couldn’t simply happen at home on a piece of paper or in a word document on my computer that no one could see until it was finished. It had to unfold in real time, amidst everything else. And it had to literally be surrounded by the cultural landscape I wanted to assess. In both LACONIA and Love Dog , I wanted to know how and if we can get away from what we cannot get away from? From which there is no respite. Given this, I don’t think hypertexts can really be called hypertexts anymore. Hypertexts are simply the world today. This is not only the way we read the world now. It is the way the world reads. Likewise, interfaciality, as you put it, works on a number of levels for me, both on and off the page. There is my relation to epistemological and phenomenological surfaces—the screen, the body, the face, the voice, gender; the official story. Then there is the way this dovetails formally, and to which the digital adds yet another dimension. It’s also where sound comes into Love Dog (giving the book a sound; giving tonality to the book’s ideas and feelings). As Anne Carson pointed out in her essay “The Gender of Sound,” the two are connected, and of course so are love and gender. In “Ever Since This World Began,” I wanted to think about the phenomenology of the voice, which is why I visualize the sonic in the book and why in my writing about faces, I look at the tonal aspects (the things a face voices and a voice faces) of a face. This was standard to do when images and faces were “silent” in the silent era. Those images/faces were extraordinarily audible. The greatest screen face, to me, is still Falconetti’s in Dreyer’s The Passion of Joan of Arc . We can hear her face—even though there is no actual sound on screen of her speaking. The internet is a similarly “silent” space where actual voices are lacking. So intertextuality goes with interfaciality. I’ve also talked a lot about how categorization worked when it came to the reception of my first book, Beauty Talk & Monsters . How despite the fact that Beauty Talk is a text that crisscrosses form and content in a variety of ways, not pinpointing its exact genre—choosing one genre over another—only made things worse. Fiction was the category people were most adverse to me using, even though of course there is a lot of fiction in the book. Part of how fiction works in Beauty Talk is in the reader not knowing exactly where the fiction resides. In Godard’s 1967 film, Weekend , for example, everything matters. Everything is political, whether it’s real or imaginary, film or reality. In Weekend , life is not a game and neither is the game a game. The game is really life. Either everything is important or nothing is. But many people want clear answers and demarcations so that they can decide what is important and what is not important. My use of the “I,” subjective criticism, made everything “real” in Beauty Talk . But fiction is in the construction. It is in the blending. This is why I perforate the movie screen and connect the onscreen and the offscreen; the official story and the backstory. Although I don’t think there is a difference between onscreen and offscreen anymore. Nor is there a dialectic. It’s all screen all the time now. Non-fiction, on the other hand, was more tolerated as a moniker. Unlike Love Dog , Beauty Talk wasn’t explicitly or tangibly (what is tangible is a question in all these books) working with digital forms or within this digital economy, so some people resisted the book’s hypertextuality or intertextuality because they couldn’t see its other forms, if that makes sense. It was a problem of invisibility; of how to make something appear (this is where Nietzsche, big presence in Love Dog , comes in—the nature of appearances). Something people don’t necessarily want to see. Some readers couldn’t see the way forms were interfacing in that book. On the surface, Beauty Talk was simply a text about media culture—the domination of entertainment as a mode of being and knowing—and most readers could only see that one side of the book. But as Godard puts it in Wim Wenders’ documentary about the future of cinema, Room 666 , “Films are made, images are made, when there’s no one looking. That’s what the invisible is, that which we don’t see. That’s what the incredible is, that which we don’t see. And cinema shows you that which we don’t see, the incredible.” We are living in the aftermath of narrative and temporal collapse, which means we don’t read or feel in the same way. I began to use digital forms in my writing because I don’t see us as traditional book people anymore. I would add that power also resides in the invisible, in the things we make invisible by making them visible. Or it did for a long time. The new face of power is quickly becoming so-called transparency, which is even more corrupt because even though we now live in a behind-the-scenes culture, and see and know how the mechanisms of power and corruption operate, we still don't change. The world still doesn't change. Finally, another important thing that Godard says in Room 666 that relates to Love Dog is: “I’m here in front of the camera, and yet in my body and in my head, I’m behind it. My world is the imaginary and the imaginary is a journey between forwards and backwards.” This idea of visible/invisible, foresight and hindsight , backwards and forwards is an important dialectic in relation to time and the idea of the destinal. This is why I wanted Love Dog to travel, literally, figuratively, and discursively. You have to be open to not knowing. To epistemological, geographical, chronological, and emotional aporias. In Love Dog my story is both visible and invisible to me. Sometimes I could see where I was going. Other times I was completely in the dark existentially. Truth procedure, which love is, as bell hooks and Badiou tell us, requires expedition and openness to possibility. Unless you want a story you already know, but that is not truth procedure. So I tried to create this backwards and forwards journey in the book—this sense of travel and motion, hope and doubt—by jumping between forms, media, time; traveling to different places, texts, and emotional registers. The book’s “Time-Jump series,” which mostly takes the form of music—songs—but also a series of “green” videos that I shot, is the most obvious tribute to this idea of subjective and chronological time. continent. Your work aligns with writers that play with the form of their language, or have assumed the role of performance artist at some point: Kathy Acker, Chris Kraus, Avital Ronell, and Anne Carson to name a few representing varied approaches that show up in Love Dog . At the risk of ossifying the work, or missing the point—as these experimental modes of writing stack-up in piles of published works, do they approach a genre? MASHA As I noted in my book Life As We Show It , in Chelsea Girls the poet Eileen Myles points out, “You can’t get money without a category.” More importantly, you can’t get a category—or respect, rank—without a clear genre. This makes genre and gender an obvious pair. The two words are even linked etymologically and both genre and gender concern taxonomies of legitimacy—of sorting through what and who is valuable. So the words share common prejudices. The things one does not want to read is often synonymous with who one doesn't want to read about. Therefore a break-up of or with genre is maybe the genre or anti-genre that could be said to link these writers. Avital Ronell breaks up with philosophical tradition and modes of inquiry. Like Nietzsche, she revaluates methods of evaluation, testing out things you are not supposed to use philosophy to test (and, by the same token, testing philosophy in ways it’s not supposed to be tested), like drugs and stupidity—where philosophy fails and we fail philosophy. And Chris Kraus does something similar in her experimental fiction, using different forms to put female subjectivity “to the test,” so to speak. All these female writers and thinkers have tried to destabilize the systems that have been set up in (and against) writing. Thus missing the mark with genre, even intentionally, means that we have missed the point in some sense as writers and thinkers. And that to me is a good thing, however difficult. We’ve started at the wrong point and gone somewhere else instead. We’ve acknowledged that writing and thinking are also about failure, and that failure is always embedded in the act of writing and in our reasons for writing. So that missing the point is also the point. Derrida insisted: “We must invent a name for those ‘critical’ inventions which belong to literature while deforming its limits.” But how can you give something that resists and deforms, a name? Wouldn’t the name also be deformed? Isn't this why the aforementioned writers get hyphenated descriptors like ficto-criticism? Do we need a proper name to be able to read something carefully? I don’t think so. I don’t need it as a reader. I’ve always taken a work on its own terms. But for most people, if you don’t have an address, people don’t know how to find you. A lot of time, they won’t even know how to look. And in some cases, they’ll think you’re not even worth finding. You are not on the map because you have to literally make the map in order to exist. In her essay, “The Gender of Sound” Carson asks, “Why is female sound bad to hear?” I think for the same reason something uncategorizable (pedagogically, creatively, racially, and sexually)—Other—is hard to read. *For an audio recording of Florida , read by Masha Tupitsyn click here . continent. : We're also curious to hear know how you see the significance of 'performance' (and why the label sticks to the shoes of these authors like toilet paper) in describing this kind of writing work? MASHA I think I responded to the parenthetical portion of this question in my previous answer. As far as how performance relates to Love Dog , in Acker’s Don Quixote , which is another big presence in the book, she writes, “there is no other reality than anthropomorphism.” In Don Quixote , the dog is human and the human is dog. Which brings us to the title of Love Dog and the totemic function of the dog in the book: giving human things animal characteristics and animal things human characteristics. Rather than investing all our human love ideals into dogs, which we do constantly as a culture of dog lovers, I wanted to put the dog into love. It is the difference between the consumption of love as a patriarchal institution or status position and the essence of a type of radical and liberatory relation that would benefit humans in their bonds with other humans. So the dog in Love Dog is not simply the book’s cover or performative affect, so to speak. Love has always needed the dog, which is why the dog is the very embodiment of belief in love . Recall Argos The Great Dog and Odysseus. Argos is the only one who remembers and recognizes the ragged and old Odysseus even after his 20-year absence. So love is the high ideal and the dog, both common and dependable, is the bridge between the sacred and the profane. The dog is the house of love. And because Love Dog is a digital project, it seemed impossible to think about the post-human, technology, the virtual, or difference (which Badiou says is essential to love in In Praise of Love ) without thinking about animal-being and being-animal. Instead of simply “performing” these ideas and characteristics as literary affects, I’m interested in being-becoming. Which means the book’s tropes, leitmotifs, series, and even its titles are in service of that truth procedure. In other words, I actually want to live this way, not just write this way. And, more importantly, I want to live this way not just think this way. So Love Dog became both my totem animal and my autobiographical animal. This made the book organic, anthropomorphic—beyond literary. See the trailer to Masha Tupitsyn's new book available now from Penny Ante Editions. (shrink)

Recent studies have been increasingly interested in the connections between popular culture – cinema in particular – and religion, and most particularly in how traditional mythologies and religious frameworks and practices are recycled and reinterpreted within modern media. These interactions can be ranged from opposition to dialogue and move towards appropriation and even replacement, in terms of functions and impact. Departing from a series of theories – mainly that of “implicit religion”, coined by Bailey but also developed by theorists like (...) Lyden – the article examines the issue of recycled myth and religious pattern in contemporary cinema, focusing on the Russian “New Wave” and more specifically on discussing Zvyagintsev’s Vozvrashchenie [The Return]. The article aims to decode the religious layers and symbolism of the film, which can find a coherent explanation in Eliade’s theories on the pattern of initiation, but also in those on the sacred camouflaged into the profane and most particularly on the hierophanies and initiation religious patterns. The paper also focuses on the function of religious archetypes and rituals as employed by contemporary storytellers like cinema, especially when such religious scripts are as articulated, although implicit, as in Zvyagintsev’s narrative. The article concludes that this return to religion and the sacred as worldviews and manners of understanding of the world can be explained as employed for their persistent function of myth structures as meaning and coherence providers. (shrink)

This article re-examines Bataille’s increasingly influential notion of the sacred, with particular emphasis on the left or impure aspects of the sacred and their relationship to social structure or topology. Bataille’s understanding of the ‘sacred nucleus’ of society is examined in detail, particularly his suggestion that society endures only as the hardening of the conduits of sacred and profane around a radically heterogeneous, impure or ‘filthy’ central nucleus. For Bataille the sacred as heterogeneous is (...) necessarily excluded from profane, homogeneous working life, and is internally divided between left and right, or pure and impure aspects. The article then examines the theme of profanation in Bataille’s writing, and the emergence of what he calls ‘post-sacred’ society. Finally, the article turns to Baudrillard’s relationship to Bataille’s work, and, beyond their common indebtedness to Mauss, the author examines the thematic relationship between Bataille’s heterological sacred and Baudrillard’s notions of symbolic exchange, evil and transparency. Baudrillard’s work presents a version of heterology more adapted to the contemporary era of rampant consumerism and virtual technologies, but, as the author argues, it actually departs rather little from Bataille’s position. However, for Baudrillard, profanation generates conditions of hyper-positivity and transparency which reintroduce evil, repulsion and disorder into the social system. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:The Sacred Game: The Role of the Sacred in the Genesis of Modern Literary FictionAndrew J. McKennaThe Sacred Game: The Role of the Sacred in the Genesis of Modern Literary Fiction, by Cesareo Bandera; 318 pp. University Park: Pennsylvania State University Press, 1994, $16.50.When we consider the early relations of philosophy and literature, we most often think of Republic X and about degrees of (...) separation between reality and its image. That is a mistake, according to Cesareo Bandera, who shows in his deft reading of Laws that Plato expelled the poets chiefly because of their threat to the difference between sacred and profane: their mournful harmoniae polluted sacred rites. In this Plato is closer to the religious world examined by Durkheim, where the absolute difference between sacred and profane alone guarantees all other differences. Aristotle is shown to be starkly misleading here, since his Poetics discuss tragedy as if it had nothing to do with the ritual practices in which it originates. His vaunted realism can only save poetry—and ontological appearances—by ignoring, by virtually expelling the sacred from its purview.This expulsion of the sacred from the horizon of our rationality is the thematic core of Bandera’s argument about modern literary fiction as it [End Page 189] emerges in the Renaissance. He does not bring the religious back to our attention to enthrall us with it anew, but to explain via formidable literary and historical scholarship how we stand with respect to it, and how we misunderstand our enlightened disrespect for it. Our modern scientific spirit, our really amazing freedom of inquiry, has a different genealogy than we commonly suppose.It is not primarily philosophy which grounds our humanist irreverence, but our Western religious tradition, which Bandera reads, along with René Girard, Roberto Calasso, and Marcel Gauchet, as a uniquely desacralizing agency in culture. His book’s central endeavor is to expand the implications of Girard’s sacrificial theory of social formation across close readings of ancient and Renaissance literature and criticism in order to show the constraints on rationality within a culture where the sacred veiled human violence. According to this view, that veil is rent irreparably with the revelation of the innocent victim as the vantage point from which to interpret the murderous fury of the crowd, however ritualized as awe for the god(s), or as art. A stunning analysis of Virgil (with an assist from Michel Serres’s reading of Lucretius) reveals a writer holding back from his appalled understanding of violent foundations. With the Renaissance, art is cannily deritualized; not pious Aeneas, born of a goddess, but Don Quixote, born in prison, sets the course for modern fiction.Bandera’s astute readings of Renaissance literature and criticism shed decisively new light on the significance of this axial period, poised at the fulcrum of his argument. His vast and probing research reminds us how modern literary fiction nourished its self-consciousness and freedom amidst lavish and vehement debate over mixing the human and divine. Stripped of the taboos limiting classical thought, the sacred’s monopoly on violence had eroded to reveal individual culpability—but also vast, new possibilities for thought and action. A clear ethical impulse accompanies these readings, in which Calderon and Cervantes are shown to deprive us of a sacred alibi for human violence, which is now a matter for me to resolve with my neighbor. Organically cultural imperatives lose ground to a sense of individual responsibility, which Bandera traces back to the historically documented ascendancy of devotio moderna in late medieval Europe.Despite and because of debates over its cultural role, Renaissance literature’s very marginality freed it to explore every dimension of human error. And we learn how those who unwittingly conspire to resacralize it, from Tasso and Shelley through Arnold and Frye, only continue to play the sacred game that caused shudders in Plato and inspires just plain silliness among our own critical anarchs and demystifyers.Bandera’s net is cast wide and deep, including a bracing debate with Milbank and Blumenberg, whose sweep he emulates successfully, and whose powerful analyses he corrects. Witty and adroit scrutiny of our “sacred allergy” extends... (shrink)

Nāgārjuna argues for the fundamental importance of causality, and dependence more generally, to our understanding of reality and of human life: his account of these matters is generally correct. First, his account of interdependence shows how we can clearly understand the nature of scientific explanation, the relationship between distinct levels of theoretical analysis in the sciences (with particular attention to cognitive science), and how we can sidestep difficulties in understanding the relations between apparently competing ontologies induced by levels of description (...) or explanation supervening on one another. Then rGyal tshab's exposition of Dharmakīrti's account, in the pramānasiddhi chapter of the "Pramāṇavarttika", of the necessity of a belief in rebirth for the cultivation of bodhicitta is examined. This account is accepted in the dGe lugs tradition both as an accurate representation of Dharmakīrti's views and as authoritative regarding bodhicitta and the mahākarunā that is its necessary condition. But Dharmakīrti, rGyal tshab, and their followers, by virtue of accepting this argument, neglect Nāgārjuna's account of dependent arising and in consequence are implicated in what might be seen from a proper Prāsaṅgika-Madhyamaka point of view as the very subtlest form of self-grasping. (shrink)

Prompted by Levy’s observations and questions, our brief review of symbolic space in ancient Greece suggests that some features of Greek culture that at first sight seem rationalist and modernizing, signs of the transformation of the archaic city, were deeply rooted in the culture of the city-states from as early as we can study them.11 It may be that they are factors that contributed to the intellectual process referred to as the breakthrough or enlightenment which is not easily attributed entirely (...) to economic and social changes in the late sixth and early fifth centuries BCE. The largely secular political tradition is sometimes, and plausibly, invoked as a cause (cf. Humphreys 1986). It should probably be seen as part of the overall ordering of the sacred vis-à-vis the profane. By the later fourth century BCE, contact with a larger, multiethnic world and the growth of impersonal market relationships produced or hastened secondary urbanization and with it the fracturing of a social coherence. In the intervening classical period, in some areas, such as drama, festival, and the visual arts, the first stirrings of the enlightenment may actually have fostered a more intense deployment of traditional resources. The symbolic use of space in the Greek cities probably never matched, despite important similarities, the more complex traditional systems of their South Asian counterparts. Greece’s traditional culture only reached its acme when new winds were blowing (and even because of them), but before they had swept away the delicate links that held the culture together. (shrink)

The paper aims to examine the meaning of sacredness in such a religion as Buddhism where there is no idea of God or any supernatural being. Instead, there are elaborated inner practices for achieving enlightenment. The paper consists of two parts. The first one analyses the place of the sacred in Buddhism considering the two important concepts of samsara and nirvana. The second part discusses sacred places in Buddhism comparing two different space structures: stupa as representative for a (...) vertical structure and mandala for a horizontal one. On the base of juxtaposing these seemingly opposite concepts and structures the paper reveals that in terms of Buddhism the real sacredness is non-sacredness: a term that transcends the opposition sacred-profane and expresses the specific Buddhist vision of non-duality.Key words: Buddhism; sacred-profane; non-duality. (shrink)

Pendant plusieurs décennies, voire plusieurs siècles, les inventaires de Délos ont recensé les offrandes déposées chaque année dans les différents sanctuaires de l’île sacrée. Parmi elles se trouvent de nombreuses dédicaces de vêtements et de tissus dont la description témoigne de l’inventivité lexicale et sémantique des administrateurs sacrés. Parallèlement aux offrandes, les inventaires mentionnent également des tissus aux fonctions multiples. L’objectif ici est d’examiner la terminologie propre aux textes de Délos afin de déterminer ensuite quels renseignements nous livre cette étude (...) sémantique : les textiles à Délos sont les vecteurs d’identités multiples, qu’ils soient les témoins de pratiques religieuses particulières ou qu’ils constituent un indice social de l’époque hellénistique. (shrink)

From the biblical text to the Jewish Philosophy of the Twentieth Century, from Walter Benjamin and Emmanuel Levinas to the philosophy of Martin Heidegger and Giorgio Agamben, from Rilke’s poetry to the poetry of Paul Valéry, the problem of Face, expression and language have been a central topic of Jewish Thought. Among these problems, the discussion of sacred time and profane time becomes the place to think about the problem of Revelation. The main objective of this article is (...) to analyze the Revelation from the perspective of Jewish Thought in relation to the language and problem of the divine Face. It will focus on this, by exploring the philosophy of Levinas and its connection with the biblical text, opening from there the reflection towards other authors in a friendly dialogue. (shrink)

Despite a decade of diversity policy plans, a wave of student rallies has ignited debates across western European university campuses. We observe these debates from a situated call for anti-racism in Belgian higher education institutions, and critically reflect on the gap between diversity policy discourse and calls for anti-racism. The students’ initiatives make a plea for racial literacy in the curriculum, to foster a critical awareness on how racial hierarchies have been educated through curricula and institutional processes. Students rethink race (...) as a matter to be (un)learned. This pedagogical question, on racial literacy in the curriculum, is a response to diversity policies often silent about race and institutionalised racisms. Students request a fundamental appeal of knowledgeability in relation to race; diversity policy mostly envisions working on (racial) representation, as doing anti-racist work. This article argues how racial literacy might offer productive ways to bridge the disparities between students’ calls for anti-racism and the institutional (depoliticised) vocabulary of diversity. We implement Stuart Hall’s critical race theory and Jacques Rancière’s subjectification as key concepts to study and theorise these calls for anti-racism as a racial literacy project. This project can be built around engagement as educational concept. We coin possibilities to deploy education as a forum of engagement and dialogue where global asymmetries such as race, gender and citizenship can be critically addressed. (shrink)

Identity crafts for migration and citizenship purposes require the assistance of brokerage actors that help secure documents, advise on self-presentations, and vouch for relevant credentials. While recognizing the contradictory roles these intermediaries play in both facilitating and controlling migration and the porous boundary between for-profit and non-profit actors, scholars have yet to explore what challenges these characteristics pose to the organization of a particular brokerage transaction. How do these intermediaries reconcile their roles as migration facilitators and surrogate gatekeepers? Does it (...) matter to present the transaction as driven by financial rewards or other loftier goals? How are the boundaries between different types of intermediaries enacted and contested? I explore these questions through the case of a religious organization that helps migrants establish their religious identities for asylum claims-making on religious grounds. Combining insights from the “relational work” approach with ethnographic research in Korean evangelical congregations in the U.S., I show how the template of gift giving allows the church to focus on making the faithful as God’s intermediary, instead of screening them as the state’s private deputy, and avoid an accusation that its trade with asylum-seekers turns the Christian persona into a quasi-commodity. The boundary between the church and commercial brokers, between gift giving and market exchange, however, is constantly contested and renegotiated through the interaction between the transaction parties. In conclusion, I discuss how the relational work approach can advance our comparative inquiry into the brokerage transactions facilitating the “profane” exchange of “sacred” identities for migration and citizenship purposes. (shrink)

In 2008, the Musée des Beaux-Arts de Lyon acquired a painting called The Flight into Egypt which was attributed to the French artist Nicolas Poussin. Thought to have been painted in 1657, the painting had gone missing for more than three centuries. Several versions were rediscovered in the 1980s and one was passed from hand to hand, from a family who had no idea of its value to gallery owners and eventually to the museum. A painting that had been sold (...) as a decorative object in 1986 for around 12,000 euros was acquired two decades later by the Musée des Beaux-Arts de Lyon for 17 million euros. What does this remarkable story tell us about the nature of art and the way that it is valued? How is it that what seemed to be just an ordinary canvas could be transformed into a masterpiece, that a decorative object could become a national treasure? This is a story permeated by social magic the social alchemy that transforms lead into gold, the ordinary into the extraordinary, the profane into the sacred. Focusing on this extraordinary case, Bernard Lahire lays bare the beliefs and social processes that underpin the creation of a masterpiece. Like a detective piecing together the clues in an unsolved mystery he carefully reconstructs the steps that led from the same material object being treated as a copy of insignificant value to being endowed with the status of a highly-prized painting commanding a record-breaking price. He thereby shows that a painting is never just a painting, and is always more than a piece of stretched canvass to which brush strokes of paint have been applied: this object, and the value we attach to it, is also the product of a complex array of social processes – with its distinctive institutions and experts – that lies behind it. And through the history of this painting, Lahire uncovers some of the fundamental structures of our social world. For the social magic that can transform a painting from a simple copy into a masterpiece is similar to the social magic that is present throughout our societies, in economics and politics as much as art and religion, a magic that results from the spell cast by power on those who tacitly recognize its authority. By following the trail of a single work of art, Lahire interrogates the foundations on which our perceptions of value and our belief in institutions rest and exposes the forms of domination which lie hidden behind our admiration of works of art. (shrink)

Due to the elusive nature of the surviving documentation, it is often difficult to assess in what areas and to what extent the Tridentine prescriptions on sacred images led to acts of censorship directed at works of art. The Milanese diocese at the time of Archbishop Carlo Borromeo (1564–84) stands out as a rare case for which policies concerning the control of sacred art and their practical implementation are relatively well documented. This article examines Borromeo’s legislation on religious (...) artworks and how it was translated into practice, highlighting the role played by the administrative system of his diocese in the effort to identify and censor inappropriate works of art. I bring to light these dynamics through an in-depth analysis of the so-called Index of Profane Paintings, a document recording the results of a systematic enquiry into artworks that did not comply with Tridentine standards, carried out in the Milanese diocese under Borromeo. Despite being the only known evidence of an investigation of this kind made in the sixteenth century, this document has been largely ignored by art historians. I discuss the date and circumstances in which the Index was compiled, as well as the methods and targets of the enquiry it records. I then examine the problems raised by the artworks denounced and the solutions envisaged for them, exploring their relationship with contemporary religious and visual culture. A revised transcription and an English translation of the document are given in the Appendices. (shrink)

El objetivo de este artículo es mostrar la existencia de un aspecto durkheimiano en la filosofía de la religión de William James, aspecto habitualmente inadvertido en las interpretaciones corrientes de su obra. Para ello mostraré cómo subyace en Las variedades de la experiencia religiosa la prototípica distinción durkheimiana entre lo sagrado y lo profano como rasgo esencial de la religión. The purpose of this article is to demonstrate the existence of a Durkheimian aspect in William James' philosophy of religion, an (...) aspect that has gone unnoticed in the usual interpretations of his work. To this effect, the article shows how Durkheim's prototypical distinction between sacred and profane underlies The Varieties of Religious Experience as an essential feature of religion. (shrink)

Inconspicuous turns: Heidegger and the "inapparent" theological turn -- Inconspicuous revelation: Marion, Heidegger, and an antinomic phenomenality -- Inconspicuous phenomenology: on Heidegger's unscheinbarkeit or inapparent -- Inconspicuous lifeworld of religion: Henry's "life," Heidegger's "world" -- Inconspicuous liturgy: Lacoste, Heidegger, and the space of godhood -- Inconspicuous adoration: Nancy, Heidegger, and a praise of the ordinary -- Inconspicuous evidence: Janicaud, religious experience, and a methodological atheism -- Inconspicuous faith: Chretien, Heidegger, and forgetting -- Inconspicuous God: Levinas, Heidegger, and the idolatry of (...) incomprehensibility -- The spectacle of God: inverting the sacred/profane paradigm. (shrink)

This paper considers religion in relation to four recurrent traits: belief systems incorporating supernatural agents and counterintuitive concepts, communal ritual, separation of the sacred and the profane, and adolescence as a preferred developmental period for religious transmission. These co-occurring traits are viewed as an adaptive complex that offers clues to the evolution of religion from its nonhuman ritual roots. We consider the critical element differentiating religious from non-human ritual to be the conditioned association of emotion and abstract symbols. (...) We propose neurophysiological mechanisms underlying such associations and argue that the brain plasticity of human adolescence constitutes an “experience expectant” developmental period for ritual conditioning of sacred symbols. We suggest that such symbols evolved to solve an ecological problem by extending communication and coordination of social relations across time and space. (shrink)

The sacred has survived where religion has not. The sacred is acknowledged by prominent atheists and agnostics. They emphatically agree that the person is sacred and less clearly that nature is as well. Closer examination of their remarks shows that today the sacred comes in two versions, the rightful sacred, best known under the heading of human rights, and the graceful sacred of concrete reality?things and practices of nature and art particularly. The division of (...) the sacred into its rightful and graceful versions (a division that is mirrored in the distinction philosophers make between the right and the good) is the crucial cultural event of the modern era. The two are distinct at least and sometimes thought to be incompatible. Yet they can and must be reconciled and seen as complementary?a general requirement of human well-being. And for a Christian like me they find their perfect union in the truly sacred person?God. (shrink)

In this paper, I explore a possible convergence between two great twentieth century thinkers, Nishida Kitarō of Japan and Martin Heidegger of Germany. The focus is on the quasi-religious language they employ in discussing the grounding of human existence in terms of an encompassing Wherein for our being. Heidegger speaks of “the sacred” and “the passing of the last god” that mark an empty clearing wherein all metaphysical absolutes or gods have withdrawn but are simultaneously indicative of an opening (...) wherein beings are given. Nishida speaks of “the religious” dimension in the depths of one's being, that he calls “place,” and that somehow envelops the world through its kenotic self-negation. In both we find reference to a kind of originary space—the open or place—associated with quasireligious themes. I also point to their distinct approaches to metaphysical language in their attempts to give voice to that abysmal thought. (shrink)

A collection of essays focusing on the relationship between concepts of the holy and the unholy in western European medieval culture. Demonstrates how religion, magic, and science were all modes of engagement with a natural world that was understood to be divinely created and infused with mysterious power"--Provided by publisher.

We live in a material world. But what is matter? Can it point us towards meanings outside itself, or can any meaning it possesses only be invested in it by human beings? To what extent might these semantic activities overlap? How have our current understandings of matter and meaning developed from those of past thinkers, in both Western and non-Western contexts? These and many other questions were addressed at a conference held under the auspices of the Science and Religion Forum (...) at Liverpool Hope University in 2008. That conference brought together some leading figures in the disciplines of theology and the natural sciences, and a selection of the papers given at it is now presented in this book. They offer important new historical, scientific and theological insights from a variety of perspectives to those with an interest in the fast-developing area of the dialogue between these disciplines; and they will also be found valuable by anyone who wishes to explore the complexities of this dialogue, as it moves beyond the black-and-white histrionics of its presentation in the popular media. (shrink)