I am also put in mind now, surprisingly enough (at least to me), of the martial arts, and of the Chinese notion of qi, or ch’i, that vital force or energy flow of which it is said that all living things, particularly humans, can avail themselves, and that can be harnessed in such a way that one’s participation in each moment of reality is invigorated, and shaped to its fullest purpose.
diary /
Which I think of now, I suppose, because of the emphasis that the so-called ‘Puritans’ placed on temperance, prudence, and restraint, while not denying the reality of our volition.
diary /
For the dilemma of each moment, if we can speak of time as though it were arranged of such intervals (which I’m not certain we can), is where to locate, or how to sustain, within one’s position in reality, that tension between freedom and restraint, or prudence and spontaneity, that would, in its ideal form, engage the individual most throughly with the potential of their circumstance.
diary /
It is for this reason that I would hesitate to dismiss, out of hand, those elements within the strata of Christianity that are sometimes referred to as ‘puritanical.’ For while I myself do not identify as such (Puritanism was, after all, a rejection of not only corruptions in the Roman Catholic Church, but also traditions and practices), I am not so foolish as to be unable to recognize that the origin of the movement to which that term has been ascribed, and that at some point, perhaps, lost its way, through the exaggeration or single-mindedness of its methods, might have had good cause, and been well-intended.
diary /
Whereupon to ignore those borders, once they are sighted (if even while looking over one’s shoulder), is to abandon one’s self to the meaninglessness of chaos.
diary /
In other words, there is such a thing as ‘enough,’ only each of us is responsible for discovering the borders of its district, as it would bear upon our own lives.
diary /
“The road of excess leads to the palace of wisdom,” William Blake wrote, in The Marriage of Heaven and Hell. But he also wrote, in the same passage, not much further along, “You never know what is enough unless you know what is more than enough.”
diary /
For there is no place within Christianity for an attitude that would regard anything in nature as obscene or offensive in itself, or to be treated with suspicion, and dressed in an aura of prohibition, merely because it is pleasing to our senses. It is only because we so often fail to recognize where that thing fits in the order of nature, and how we relate to it after our own creaturely fashion, that a religious person might call to our mind the virtue of temperance, which would regulate our conduct in such a way that any pleasures that might obtain to us (not because we pursue them for their own sake, but because they are a happy accident of our condition) are allowed to flourish and reach their heights; and without which virtue those same pleasures, through the habit of abuse that is known as sin, are actually degraded and diminished.
diary /
I would also say, since I have taken the time to observe a point that is, perhaps, incidental to this painting’s meaning, and yet is still capable of providing insight, that Dalí’s allusion to the carnality of the human body, or to the notion of it as ‘flesh,’ in the sexualized or erotic sense, is not an indication that Christianity regards our bodies as an obstacle to faith, and something to be hidden or chastised, and never admired or enjoyed, for that isn’t the case, but only that, like anything in creation, but especially like those things that would appeal to our appetites or drives, they can, when objectified, or reduced to a tool for pleasure (so that the dignity of their purpose is lost, ignored, or forsaken), be appropriated by that spirit of possessiveness that, seeking to reverse any momentum we might have toward God, would trade us momentary satisfactions for an increase in our habituation to it, and so bring our souls to disorder.
diary /
I said in the previous entry that the figure of Anthony of the Desert has always been portrayed as straight and cisgendered, and I suppose that is true, but, to be more precise, and, perhaps, more fair to that portion of history that for so long proceeded without availing itself of, or involving itself in, the discourses of sexuality that are so prevalent today, we have no exact knowledge with regard to this man’s (or that of any of the saints) sexual orientation or gender identity, though we might have our suppositions, or may at times wonder and imagine. And so portrayals of him tend to be arranged in, or colored by, whatever implications with regard to that subject would seem most natural or convincing to the imagination of the artist who is rendering that episode in his life. And yet this lack of knowledge is, I think, nothing over which to be distressed, or even, really, to take note. For to believe that the most vital aspects of a person’s identity are to be found in sexual orientation or gender is, I think, to underestimate the breadth of the human soul, which wants to participate in the supernatural order of grace, not to be bound by the natural realm of the senses. Which isn’t to say that those aspects, in their variety among us, aren’t important. Or that dysphoria with regard to them isn’t real, and, for some people, something to navigate and explore. Nor that, finally, they have not been, and don’t continue to be, the cause of detestable instances of mistreatment; so that the frequency of their inclusion in forums of discussion, as a means by which understanding might be increased, and rancor diminished, is warranted, and not to be discouraged.
diary /
In other words, while the particular aspect of temptation that we might describe as ‘lust’ is here denoted by the female form, with regard to a heterosexual orientation (or what could be called the ‘straight male gaze’) in what historically has been portrayed as a cisgendered person, the principle that is at work, and that is more significant symbolically, involves the subjugation of the spiritual nature of humankind by a baser, animalistic urge; and the attempt on the part of the saint to resist that subjugation.
diary /
I should say here, I suppose, as it involves one of those subjects that is easily misunderstood, that the femaleness of the flesh that would tempt the saint, in this situation, is not as important, with regard to the meaning of the painting, as is the carnality of that flesh, which, to a person differently constituted than was, say, Anthony of the Desert, might instead have appeared masculine.
diary /
It is, I suspect, by the impossibly spindly legs of the elephants in that painting, bearing their gilded treasures and the voluptuous nudity of their female cargo, as well as by the furious countenance of the rearing horse, under whose hooves the saint, in the foreground, is in danger of being trampled, that the viewer finds themself most astonished. But if that viewer would allow themself to look for a while longer, or for whatever duration of time they would give to it, of their own volition, what I think their gaze will alight on (or, anyway, return to, if it has already alighted and moved on), is the valiancy with which the saint, in the posture of his genuflection, and the conviction with which he grasps and extends his primitive-looking crucifix, would defy, and even remonstrate with, whatever powers of darkness have gathered against him, and produced the phenomena that assail him.
diary /
The first memory I have of seeing a version of this painting is from when I was in high school, and I found, on the coffee table in my parents’ living room, a book, brought into the house by, I think, my father, containing color reproductions of a large number of works by Salvador Dalí, who I remember one of my older sisters was enamored with at the time.
diary /
If you have given more than a passing glance to any painting whose title is some variant of The Temptation of Saint Anthony (which has been depicted so often, by artists from the past, that it has become something of a trope, or a genre all its own, in the manner of the Crucifixion, and the Mater Dolorosa), you will recognize how the person who would prize virtue above all else, in their own conduct, might be engaged, in their inward life, regardless of the conditions of their outer, in a fierce battle.
diary /
This isn’t to say that ego cannot exist in a healthy way, or that to take pride in one’s work amounts to an impiety, for that isn’t the case, but only that an awareness of the ego’s tendency toward self-glorification can strengthen one’s defenses against it, and can lead to a happier and more fruitful existence for the soul.
diary /
It might even be said that heroism, by its presence, should drive out, from the interior landscape of the person who would exhibit it, the very awareness of selfhood, or desire for recognition, that, while manufactured on its own, for the increase of the ego, is sustained through the attention shown it by an intelligence external to its possessor.
diary /
To demonstrate patience, for example, in the most mundane scenario in civilian life, when every fiber of one’s being would resist it, but when it is nonetheless needed, is a form of heroism, albeit an uncelebrated one, and albeit one that needs no celebration, insofar as heroism will occur whether it is celebrated or not, and in fact will be undermined into non-occurrence when that which moves the would-be ‘hero,’ to begin with, is the hope that he or she will be celebrated.
diary /
For heroism is the exercising of any of the virtues (of which courage is only one expression) when circumstances are such that to exhibit the most needed virtue would seem futile, or impossible, and when most people would not find within themselves the spiritual resources to do so.
diary /
Heroism, anyhow, as a subject and as an actual event, isn’t limited to war, nor to the violence that we associate with war. And it isn’t to be found only where there are displays of physical courage, though that is a beautiful thing, and is often heroic. The impression we might have to the contrary is due only to the frequency with which violent situations reveal how near to, or how far from, a largesse of spirit, and a tranquility under the threat of pain or death, an individual is, in their own life.