Several
months ago I heard a lecture on religion in China by John Lagerway, a world renowned
scholar on the topic. One of his comments has stayed with me—that religion is
about space and time. I have continued to
think about this comment and its application and meaning in different cultural
contexts. In my cultural geography
class, when we covered the topic of cultural ecology, I often used the example
of Andean cultures whose yearly rituals matched the growing cycles, but also
involved walking through the ecological zones that were important to their
existence—space and time.
I’ve
recently read a memoir by Wenguang Huang called The Little Red Guard. In the
telling of the story, it is clear that Huang is attempting to come to some
understanding of his father and grandmother.
The story is about his father, a good communist citizen, and his “obsession”
with living up to his commitment to bury his widowed mother next to her husband
in a rural village some distance away, against the communist government’s
requirement that everyone be cremated. Huang’s
grandmother obsesses on this as well, needing to have her body buried in this
particular place in order to be re-united with her husband and be recognized. It
is the connection to the family line also.
Huang tells of his growing up years, when his father spends all his
money and attention on ensuring this will happen when his mother dies. A coffin is secretly constructed by several carpenters
and for years Huang has to sleep next to it.
At another stage, several tailors are paid to make several traditional
sets of clothes for the grandmother to be worn on her death. Local officials
had to be nurtured because of their potential role in allowing for the use of
vehicles for the transportation of the body.
Relatives in the village had to be visited and given gifts and money to
ensure that nothing happened to the grave site and that all would be well at
that end. All of this was done at great
risk and sacrifice, in contradiction to everything Huang and his siblings were
taught in school and by official government rhetoric. This effort went on for years, as the
grandmother lived on.
In
the end, Huang’s father died first, and the grandmother was finally buried next
to the father. But the family remained
unsettled. When finally Huang and his
siblings try to bring closure, many years later, they work to move the remains
to the village. But in the midst of
these efforts, the relatives in the local village sell the right to a developer
to build on the burial site of the grandfather.
Though an alternative ritual eventually brings some closure, the story
continues to haunt me because it illustrates how Communism, no matter how hard
it tried, could not stop the religious impulse related to time and space, but
capitalism seemed to have no problem obliterating it.
How captivating and telling...this story seems to capture the dynamic juxtaposition of ancient tradition in a post-modern world. I felt like the "House of Many Waters" extravaganza (Los Vegas style) we saw while in Macau; also seemed to display this conundrum.
ReplyDeletehttp://www.tripadvisor.com.sg/Attraction_Review-g664891-d1986880-Reviews-House_of_the_Dancing_Water-Macau.html
It spoke to me of how East meets West and the challenges of time and space; the very substrates of religion and meaning; were powerfully obliterated before our eyes. I suppose the most vivid example I recall, was when the water cleared and motorcycles began to defy gravity!!!