Cursed Handmaids And Cursive Eves

The amazing industrial band I:Scintilla. Can't wait for new album 'Dying and Falling'!

You can find the lyrics to 'Cursive Eve' here.

As I already discussed in my previous article on ‘The Handmaid’s Tale’, Gilead, the land in which the novel is set, is a dystopian world founded on extremist Puritan Christian principles – a patriarchal misogynistic society. But how does something so twisted and evil emerge out of the words of a Bible that supposedly teaches us the righteousness of equity, to love our neighbours and to live peaceful lives?

Let’s rephrase that: the words of a Bible that supposedly preaches goodwill to all men, the importance of brotherhood and to love our Father.

The song ‘Cursive Eve’ by I:Scintilla is one interpretation of Christianity which highlights how such a sexist, unjust society as Gilead could have been conceived. In the words of Briony, the lead singer, ‘the song is about the oppressive Christian views of women, and the rigid roles and moulds many women feel they are forced into, from birth to adulthood’. She also comments that ‘these outlooks seem to have a profound consequence on a woman’s self-esteem, mental stability, creativity and sexuality’ – all consequences that are shown in a devastating light in ‘The Handmaid’s Tale’ through the experiences of Offred and her fellow handmaids.

So, how does religion have such profound consequences on women from birth till adulthood? Well, at birth, as well as the significant pre-determination of various aspects of your life dependent on your gender, who you become is also dependent on your parents, and the society you grow up in. If you grow up in a society founded on religious beliefs, this will impact your identity. In ‘Cursive Eve’, this factor is not presented as simply a passive factor of your surroundings, but as something that confines and suppresses individuality: ‘you were born wrapped in the pages / the words bind your mind and body’. However, this is not something that all children are subjected to. I:Scintilla say that despite the ‘false comfort of thin paper’ every child is wrapped in, they are distinguished and differentiated by gender. And if you’re female, this means that ‘you’re claimed as unclean property’, and ‘classified as a nameless mass’.

The next verse introduces the idea of ‘they’ – ‘they’ representing those whose views are presented in the Bible, and those who enforce ‘the Word’. In ‘Cursive Eve’, ‘they’ are always the active group, whilst ‘you’ (women) are passive (here I:Scintilla’s use of second-person address has an ‘othering’ effect that isolates the addressee, reciprocating the effect of misogynistic Christian beliefs on women). ‘They say you need guilt to be good’ shows how the Bible dictates how women need to suffer guiltiness (regardless of individuality) to be considered ‘good’. Why? ‘They say in you lives an Eve’. Eden lost – Eve’s fault. Eve fell first, dragging Adam down with her.

Timothy 2:13-14 – ‘For Adam was formed first, then Eve. And Adam was not deceived, but the woman being deceived was in transgression’.

Thus womankind is forever seconded in the eyes of Christianity, subjected to patriarchal control, and made to feel guilty, whilst ‘your brothers all remain blameless’. This male interpretation of ‘the Word’ turns Biblical belief into the ‘heart of snares and nets’ to incarcerate and restrain women, whilst the hands of believers become restrictive ‘bands’.

The beginning of the third verse reads like a sermon:

‘They say “in you lives an Eve” and
“Thy desire rules over thee”
“Thou shall not let witches live”’

The line ‘thy desire rules over thee’ is, in fact, a subverted version of a passage from Genesis (3:16). The actual line is ‘thy desire shall be to thy husband, and he shall rule over thee’ – even more patriarchal and demeaning of women than I:Scintilla’s version! I:Scintilla highlight Eve, witches, and later, ‘male angels’ – all Christian icons; all very paternal and misogynistic in nature. ‘Witches’ were any woman in some way alienated from society and thus labelled ‘evil’. They were feared by people in many Christian societies around the world, and any suspect was subject to a witch trial – inevitably ending in the murder of the woman in question, regardless of actual guilt. After all, a woman needs guilt to be good, so if she doesn’t die a witch, she should be glad to die an innocent, right? Again, I:Scintilla reiterate how constricted women are by such beliefs: ‘the fiction binds your mind and body’. It is significant that this is almost a direct repeat from an earlier phrase, the only difference being that ‘the words’ has now been changed to ‘the fiction’ – showing how really ‘the Word’ is fictitious in nature.

The ideas of the salvation the religion supposedly offers and the actual bondage in its place are directly juxtaposed in the lyrics of the chorus, where Biblical devotion is even likened to BDSM:

‘Kneel - here you’re not scared to die

Beg - those dogs will lick and drink you dry

Kneel - eat the pretty cursive lie

Beg - and you will not be scared to die’

Kneeling and begging are both submissive positions, used when pleading for something. The idea of kneeling here is contrasted to kneeling during prayers, and begging is likened to the behaviour of a dog trying to appease its master. But this time the dogs are superior to women: the lyric ‘those dogs will lick and drink you dry’ not only highlights the low position women have been assigned by the Bible, but how they are (ab)used, subjected to the whim of the patriarchy. The ‘pretty cursive lie’ that women are forced to eat is, obviously, the words of the Bible; the word ‘cursive’ highlighting the handwritten (and therefore man-made and fictitious) nature of the Bible, and the flow of how these words are continually interpreted and reinterpreted and misinterpreted to further repress and demean women. Women are also presented with a threat: only if they accept and ‘eat’ these lies, will they ‘not be scared to die’ – i.e. only by conforming to the restricted lives the Bibles states they can live, can they reach heaven.

And so women are forced into the ‘rigid roles and moulds’ that Biblical teachings have created for them. They are totally overwhelmed by ‘the Word’, turned into possessions of the Church. The lyric ‘give you away to male angels’ shows this possession (women can be given, and can thus be ‘held’), but it is also shown to be a possession that is unwanted. Women are given away to ‘male angels’ (another patriarchal symbol: men are powerful, heavenly beings) for reformation, to combat their evil whilst ‘the leaders’ (the mysterious ‘they’) ‘all remain shameless’, despite the unjust, sexist treatment they are perpetrating. To allow this reformation, women are told they must ‘wash away rain’s ancient marking’ – in other words, erase the Eve-mould which they are cast in from the dawn of time (impossible, as it is not a role they have ascribed to themselves), and ‘beg [themselves] for forgiveness’ – also impossible; how can one forgive themselves for something they have never done? Thus reformation is inconceivable, and women must remain ‘evil’ and unclean forever – but of course, this is their fault – after all, they were given guidance on how to go about their spiritual rejuvenation.

The final section of the song contains further subverted passages from Genesis: ‘must thy sorrow multiply / thy conception in sorrow’ is a play on the words of the same passage in Genesis as referenced earlier: ‘I will greatly multiply thy sorrow and thy conception: in sorrow thou shalt bring forth children’. I:Scintilla shows how these words of God before the Fall can be reinterpreted to shift the cause of this sorrow from God (in the Bible, God is the active personage ‘I will...’) to women themselves (‘thy sorrow multiply’, ‘thy conception in sorrow’ – the sorrow belongs solely to women instead of being borne upon them by someone else). This shows how interpretations of the Bible can really subvert the meaning of the text, and how interpretations can be used to condemn and oppress women. They can easily be told ‘thou shall live in the silence / with all subjection’ (a subversion of ‘let the wom[e]n learn in silence with all subjection’ – Timothy 2:11, which is also used by a Commander at the opening of a Pravaganza in ‘The Handmaid’s Tale’), and will remain voiceless victims, controlled and repressed by the will of ‘the Word’. The passage from Timothy continues ‘notwithstanding, she shall be saved by childbearing’ – just one of the ‘rigid roles’ prescribed for women by Christian doctrine, and the principle upon which Gilead is based.

And what of man – the leaders, the male angels? I:Scintilla present him far from the fallen-heroic image of Adam in Genesis, who was tricked by Eve into evilness. Although they admit that ‘he may hear false answers’, and be influenced by ‘evil’ outside himself, I:Scintilla point out that ‘he lets the voices in’ – it is his choice what to believe. Thus they claim that Adam was equally to blame for the Fall, and that men are no more sacred than women.

The last couple of lines of ‘Cursive Eve’ I perceive as a question, posed to women: ‘must thy sorrow follow / visions in his head?’. Must women’s oppression and misery be caused by men’s fictions - men’s religions? It is not a question for women to take upon themselves, but one to make them think: is this what I want to be told to believe; do I want to have such ‘sorrow’ forced upon me? It is an offer of escape.

* * *

Of course, ‘Cursive Eve’ is just one interpretation of the effects of Christianity – and everyone is entitled to their own view. My point is, the Bible, as with any literature, is there to be interpreted, and so it has been – by Christians and non-Christians alike. As with any form of organised religion, different factions of Christianity have emerged, all believing slightly different things under the huge banner of ‘Christianity’. This is nothing to object to – but it allows extremist groups to emerge. Those groups of people who twist and subvert the words of their ‘god’, or ‘prophet’, or whoever, until they bear little resemblance to the words out of which they were borne. This is what happened in Gilead, where the extremists took over the country and used their power to enforce their beliefs on everyone else, persecuting and executing those of opposing religions. They twisted the words of the Bible to enforce their misogynistic beliefs on an entire population (almost everything Aunt Lydia says is a clear example of this), and to perpetrate evil, all in the name of God. All from the Word of God.

From the Word, anything is possible.

Caution: You Are Now Entering Toyland

Please beware of kick-ass screams, killer kinderwhore dresses and excessive mookiness!

...In other words, please check out my article featured on Mookychick at the moment, on the awesome Kat Bjelland.
If she's cool enough to be an inspirational icon for the riot grrrl movement, and the driving force behind the amazing Babes In Toyland, she's cool enough to be an inspiration to anyone!

Violence, Innocence and Sorrow in Lobelia's Lament

Twentieth century American poet Louise Bogan is often quoted as saying 'innocence of heart and violence of feeling are necessary in any kind of superior achievement; the arts cannot exist without them’. This was a principle she strongly believed in, and is reflected in her poetry. Many of Bogan’s poems have some autobiographical content, whether the situation recorded was based entirely on her past or simply contained reflections of emotions she has experienced, and the poem ‘Little Lobelia’s Song’ is certainly no exception to this.

The source of ‘Little Lobelia’s Song’ was in what one biographer called ‘the weeping spells of Bogan’s old age’ (Bogan suffered from depression, and hospitalised herself a couple of times during her life) when she was apparently visited by the ghost of her childhood. Bogan herself described the poem as ‘a dual self … in mirror images’. Hence the first stanza:

I was once a part
Of your blood and bone.
Now no longer –
I’m alone, I’m alone.

The phrase ‘was once’ obviously indicates that this bond between the narrator and the addressee of the poem, that went to the extent of sharing ‘blood and bone’, occurred in the past. The dash at the end of the third line indicates structurally the divide between the two; the placement of this hyphen after the words ‘now no longer’ emphasises the fact that this split is the current state of affairs. However, the repetition in the forth line, ‘I’m alone, I’m alone’, reinforces the ideas of duality and echoes (repetitions of past sounds and images), and suggests that some kind of link between the two personas of the poem remains.

This remaining bond is also reflected in the form of the poem. The title clearly indicates that this poem is written in the style of a song, and thus has a simple rhythm and constant rhyme scheme. This creates a ‘harmonious’ effect within the poem – not only ‘harmonious’ musically, so that the words could be fitted to music as a literal song – but also ‘harmonious’ thematically, as the form reflects the bond between the narrator, Little Lobelia, and Bogan, the addressee. This is further emphasised by Bogan’s choice of rhyme scheme: only lines 2 and 4 of each stanza rhyme. This subtly reasserts the idea that there is a bond between the pair (through harmony on even numbered lines), whilst contrasting it with the ‘discord’ of lines 1 and 3 of each stanza, which hint that the bond is fragmented, and over a great distance (in this case, temporal, not spatial).

However, the relationship between Little Lobelia and Bogan is more complex than it first appears, and it is not simply a ‘temporal shift’ that has enabled them to meet face to face. Lobelia’s childish, innocent narrative voice, constructed of short, simple words and almost factual statements (there are many positive, active verbs used in the poem: for example, ‘I know’, ‘I can’, ‘you look’ etc.) and her use of rhyme and simple repetition are contrasted with harsh images and emotions that her words evoke. For instance, her use of the phrase ‘part / of your blood and bone’ creates a more stark and sinister image than if she had instead said ‘part of you’, and there are several references to emotional torment, such as the fear in the words ‘I can’t get back’, and the constant references to crying.

In fact, something almost sinister emerges in their relationship in the third stanza:

Not lost, but abandoned,
Left behind;
This is my hand
Upon your mind.

Here, two issues are raised. First, Bogan’s childhood ghost feels that she was ‘abandoned’ – ‘left behind’ in the past. This makes it sound as if Bogan’s ‘growing up’ was a deliberate act - a case of sacrificing innocence, as far as Lobelia is concerned. This, to some extent, was true for Bogan, who was forced to abandon her youthful romanticism at an early age after the failure of her first marriage when she was aged just nineteen, and face harsh reality. Secondly, there is a hint of bitterness in Little Lobelia’s voice at this sacrifice – a bitterness that almost reaches a desire for revenge in the following lines.

There is something distinctly disturbing in the lines ‘This is my hand / Upon your mind’. Not only does it suggest Little Lobelia has a controlling influence over Bogan – perhaps referring to prevailing ‘childish’ (intense, wild, uncontrollable) emotional urges through her mental illness – but also that Bogan is so vulnerable, even a seemingly harmless ghost child can reach inside her and (potentially) damage what gives her the very essence of ‘selfhood’. It is this threat of jeopardised identity that makes the ghost of Little Lobelia so disturbing.

So, what evidence of Lobelia’s power over Bogan is there in the poem? It would appear at first glance that Lobelia is the one that is powerless, vulnerable and victimised: she has been ‘abandoned’, ‘can barely speak’, and repeatedly weeps. To see the effect of Lobelia on her addressee, we must go back to the original quote I gave from Bogan: 'innocence of heart and violence of feeling are necessary in any kind of superior achievement; the arts cannot exist without them’. For the creation of this poem, both of these things – innocence of heart and violence of feeling – are found within the poet, but within different her personas in the poem. The ‘innocence of heart’ is clearly an aspect of the childish Little Lobelia, whilst this in itself is the provocation of the required ‘violence of feeling’ from Bogan, resulting in the transcription of emotions and illusions in the form of the poem itself. Lobelia’s power over Bogan is her control over Bogan’s artistic progress, and thus, ultimately, her life.

But why is such ‘violence of feeling’ evoked in the addressee by Lobelia’s innocence? This is due to part of their complex relationship: Bogan’s retrospective view of her childhood in light of her later life. Bogan looks upon her childhood ghost, her reflection in the looking glass being ‘the face / [her] likeness has’, and shares Lobelia’s view that Lobelia represents Bogan’s sacrificed innocence. Seeing the mere ghost of her innocence after years of emotional torture both through failed romances and tragic mental illness would obviously have a profound effect on Bogan.

Yet it is not only innocence lost that Bogan recognises in Little Lobelia, but also what they both retain and share: sorrow. The relationship between the pair, though strained by time and experience, is strengthened by their joint sorrow. As Lobelia states; ‘these are my tears / upon your cheek’. Bogan, as poet, represents this in the last two lines of the poem:

Else I weep, weep
Else I cry, cry.

The meaning of both these lines is exactly the same: both depict someone crying. The repetition of each word echoes the duality of the situation; the ‘mirror image’ effect that Bogan described. But the use of two different words that are synonymous, instead of simply using the same word, shows that although the emotion behind their tears is the same – sorrow – it is for different reasons, under different circumstances. Even though they might both be weeping for innocence lost, both mourn this loss in relation to themselves.

‘Little Lobelia’s Song’ is clearly a very emotional and personal poem for Bogan. So why transcribe something so intense in the confined form of a short poem, to later be published for anyone to read? Well, as suggested by other poems by Bogan (I’m specifically thinking of ‘Medusa’, but I’m sure there are others) where speaker and ‘shadow’ (another self both frightening and recognisable) meet eye-to-eye, Bogan considered such encounters crucial to her poetic imagery, and to her perception of the poet-muse relationship. Bogan believed that only by directly facing ‘the beast within’ can the poet come to terms with their own hidden powers: hence Bogan reveals that she would not have had the capacity to write such emotionally-driven poems as ‘Little Lobelia’s Song’ without the ‘violence of feeling’ provided by the dark inner-sorrows of muses like innocent Little Lobelia – the ghost of her younger self.

Greetings From Beyond the Embrace of Catatonic Nightmares

The gates to the palace of Versailles

Dear Internets,

So, as you can probably guess from the mere existence of this blog post, I have returned from France! It was really hot and sunny - not that I have anything to show for it, of course my tan has disappeared in the two days I've been home (typical!), although my feet are still a curious shade of purple after being slightly roasted. I visited several interesting places including the Zoo de la Palmyre where I got to feed giraffes, the town of La Rochelle, Disneyland, where I was accosted by thousands of wasps and walked too many miles and, of course, the amazing palace of Versailles. Well, the gardens at least. Typically we chose to go on the one day of the week that the actual palace is closed. Just my luck.

I've now been back long enough to get my head back together again (a messy process) after a couple of weeks when I was actually able to relax for a while (haven't done that in ages, it's not a word that normally features in my vocabulary at all!) and get over the drama of results - which, fortunately, were fine. But what with all the excitement and dangerously-rare relaxing I haven't really had time to write any more articles for a while. What I have been reading is mostly British women's history and feminist theory for my history coursework - and hopefully something will come out of that for here at a later date (I'm currently reading Germaine Greer's 'The Female Eunuch' which is very interesting, so expect something on that at some point), but nothing really suitable to write a short article on.

Hopefully I'll soon get back in the swing of writing, though, and I'll be able to update properly again. I've got several ideas for articles to write, including posts on Emilie Autumn lyrics and J.D. Salinger shorts stories (yay!), but until then, you may have to be patient between posts, I'm afraid!

Yours truly, Terra x