I'm wondering if I should perhaps un-post some of the pics on my Facebook profile.
August 13, 2007
August 11, 2007
Viva las brujas
Apologies both to my instructor and to the authors of the (much better) essays in Lavrin's tome.
Viva las brujas, a poorly constructed paper, by Jason Kurylo
Throughout history, very few cultures have offered women social power. In fact, where and when it has existed, female power has been largely mistrusted (Behar, 181). The same held true throughout colonial Latin America; with very few exceptions, men ruled the roost. All of Christian society was built upon a male-dominated model that spun fractally downward from the king looking after the people to the husband looking after the household (Boyer, 252-253). Even in private domains such as the bedroom, a woman was expected to fulfill a sexual debt to her husband; whereas a man could withdraw from the marital bed for months at a time or engage freely in extramarital relations, a reluctant wife could expect physical punishment or even church interference (Lavrin, 78).
Women, like servants, were far removed from decision-making; men ruled financial, political, and religious arenas, and held distinct advantages in social situations as well. Ecclesiastical decrees, royal proclamations, civil laws and family inheritance were all conceived, proclaimed and enforced by men. In fact, being female sometimes exceeded enslavement for lack of power. King Charles III’s Real Pragmática excluded dark-skinned subjects from the throne’s stringent rules (Socolow, 210), and was placed more strictly upon white Hispanic females. In church doctrine, even the Holy Mother was a virgin, placing an unreasonable yoke of moral responsibility upon women’s shoulders. The expectation of absolute abstinence meant women were either judged to be ‘in control’ or ‘out of control’, with no shades of grey in between (Twinam, 123-124).
This presented numerous instances of confusing public policy. Women of all colours were often ill-treated, even by those within the church, and yet were accused of being the main reason for their own hardship. Women, due to their fragile will and weak honour, were easily hoodwinked by sweet talkers (Lavrin, 59). They were expected, however, to deny the advances of men, who were afforded the luxury of misconduct – to carry out affairs, father illegitimate offspring and mete out physical abuse to women and children (ibid., 64-65). Indian women, however, were assumed to have loose morals and thus to be beyond expectation of honour (ibid., 67).
Bishop Mariano Martí acknowledged that, in the pursuit of sexual seduction and conquest, women were often unfairly pitted against male power, rank and abuse of church doctrine. Women were also lured into disrepute by the promise of impending or eventual material gain (Waldron, 158). Rather than placing blame for these transgressions upon male suitors and promise breakers, he called women moral polluters whom he “blamed... for much of the sexual misconduct in his dioceses”. Martí’s reasons for these epithets, however, only listed worldly manners of enchantment, for example, flirtation, revealing clothing, and inappropriate consort (ibid., 170-171).
In public complaints and marriage disensos, women were nearly always called to question over their sexual conduct, whereas men were accused more often of less ‘dirty’ vices, such as joblessness, gambling and deceit (Socolow, 220). Direct offences against their wives and consorts were actionable in some cases – but even leaving the home needed permission from church authorities (Nizza Da Silva, 314). As official recourse was limited when men exhibited excessive carelessness, philandering or violence, women were left to use “whatever tactics and resources were at hand to defend themselves and try to modify their circumstances” (Boyer, 280). Sometimes this meant turning to a less traditional source of softening the brutality of their mate: namely, witchcraft (Behar, 197).
Each side of this story used different words to describe their struggle for control. Just as the church aimed to ‘educate’ and ‘civilise’ heathen natives through subjugation and oppression, men related tales of magic used por asimplar, amansar y ligar — to ‘stupefy’, ‘tame’ and ‘tie’. For their part, women searched for ‘remedies’ to combat their husbands’ philandering, carelessness and violence (Behar, 179).
From the male point of view, this dark magic presented an out should he not live up to cultural standards. Undue feminine sway over a man was in such opposition to established power structures that she was automatically assumed to be a bruja. If she displayed unusual fortitude or manly behaviour, such as brazenly cuckolding her husband, the man had few options at his disposal. Having already suffered from immeasurable dishonour, the man was compelled to take control of the situation by punishing his disobedient wife. If he could not, an admission of weakness was not an option (Nizza Da Silva, 318): his only possible explanation was witchcraft (Behar, 178-179).
On the other hand, witchcraft offered hope to women across racial and social spectra of ‘remedies’ for their husbands’ unfaithful or violent ways (ibid., 179), and allowed them to use their sole arena of control — the kitchen, or more specifically, food preparation — to their advantage (Behar, 197-199).
Where in northern Europe, and later in a young United States, witch hunts were borne and whipped into social frenzies out of political and religious paranoia, Hispanic powers that be mainly dismissed as harmless the whispering networks which sprang up between women of all colours and castes. Spanish, Italian and New World complaints of witchcraft tended to involve activities of a more intimate nature — fabled methods of rendering a cheating husband impotent, love potions and sex magic. The Inquisition found these stories unworthy of attention, as magical practices tended to give the user only individual, fear-based power (ibid., 183-184).
Hispanic women were not strangers to witchcraft, as evidenced by similar female spell casting reported on the Iberian peninsula. In colonial Latin America, however, the upper classes most often had a distant relationship with magic. Money helped some to create status, and even pass between some racial boundaries (Twinam, 126-127). It also allowed some rich women to seek out a dark-skinned practitioner — who added local or foreign flavour to Hispanic legend — and trade a combination of food, shelter and money for folkloric assistance. Due to their otherness, these mulattas, mestizas and Indians represented multiple sources of power: the ‘inherent’ female magic and the traditional powers of their racial groups (Behar, 192-193).
Works Consulted
Behar, Ruth. “Sexual Witchcraft, Colonialism, and Women’s Powers: Views from the Mexican Inquisition.” Lavrin, S&M 178-208.
Boyer, Richard. “Women, La Mala Vida, and the Politics of Marriage.” Lavrin, S&M 252-286.
Calvo, Thomas. “The Warmth of the Hearth: Seventeenth-Century Guadalajara Families.” Lavrin, S&M 287-312.
Gruzinski, Serge. “Individualization and Acculturation: Confession among the Nahuas of Mexico from the Sixteenth to the Eighteenth Century.” Lavrin, S&M 96-117.
Lavrin, Asunción, ed. Sexuality & Marriage in Colonial Latin America. Lincoln: U of Nebraska P, 1992.
Lavrin, Asunción. Introduction. Lavrin, S&M 1-43.
Lavrin, Asunción. “Sexuality in Colonial Mexico: A Church Dilemma.” Lavrin, S&M 47-95.
Nizza Da Silva, Maria Beatriz. “Divorce in Colonial Brazil: The Case of São Paulo.” Lavrin, S&M 313-340.
Socolow, Susan M. “Acceptable Partners: Marriage Choice in Colonial Argentina, 1778-1810.” Lavrin, S&M 209-251.
Twinam, Ann. “Honor, Sexuality, and Illegitimacy in Colonial Spanish America.” Lavrin, S&M 118-155.
Waldron, Kathy. “The Sinners and the Bishop in Colonial Venezuela: The Visita of Bishop Mariano Martí, 1774-1784.” Lavrin, S&M 156-177.
August 6, 2007
Saartje's Bootees
It's a weird thing of mine, but I love pictures of shoes. There's such a sense of possibiity.
Strangely, I rarely take shots of shoes myself -- I just adore it when I come across a shot like this.
Thanks to helloyarn for a great inspirational moment. I simultaneously thought of hiking trips, the creative impulse, my parents' respective button collections, and my wife and me having kids (coming in a couple of years, mom, I promise).
Strangely, I rarely take shots of shoes myself -- I just adore it when I come across a shot like this.
Thanks to helloyarn for a great inspirational moment. I simultaneously thought of hiking trips, the creative impulse, my parents' respective button collections, and my wife and me having kids (coming in a couple of years, mom, I promise).
July 22, 2007
Obligatory Harry Potter 7 review
Not unlike many others, I ensconced myself in my flat all day Saturday to avoid reading, hearing or overhearing spoilers from the end of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. JK Rowling isn't the best writer, technically, but as a storyteller she's without modern peer. Her ability to weave bits and pieces from myths throughout the ages is stupendous -- and beyond the pages, her effect upon the publishing world has been nothing short of, well, magical.
-- Attempts, and failures, to prevent spoilers below --
Book 7 uses Lord of the Rings perhaps more than any other Potter book has lifted from any one influence; but who else other than Tolkien can claim to have manufactured such a complex, believable universe so similar, yet so unique from our own? Rowling is one of the few modern writers who could do this and get away with it -- but here's hoping she eschews the temptation to release the widely reported, encyclopaedic Potteralion, with all the background and history of each place and character.
Of course it's possible to nitpick. The last few books have been criticised for awkward bits of prose, but they mirror aptly the confusion of the 17-year-old protagonists. Her reliance upon the gimmicky Pensieve (lessened, thankfully, in book 7) is, in the scope of her 10,000 pages of Potterlore, a minor indulgence. And hey, can anyone find me a book by Charles Dickens that isn't fraught with show-offish bits of loquacious cleverness? By Tolkien that doesn't smack of naïveté? George Orwell, pomposity? CS Lewis, preaching? Oscar Wilde, ego? Just as altruism hints at selfishness, publishing reeks of idiosyncrasy and tics of personality. That doesn't make Rowling a slouch -- merely human.
The first three books were above average, if not inspired children's lit. They stayed within a fairly well-defined formula: an otherwise unremarkable boy is shipped from a horrible homelife into a stunning world of magic and mystery, and is revealed to be not just unusual, but "The Chosen One." He learns of friendship, experiences pre-destined enmity, and overcomes trials that make his previous suffering seem banal in comparison. Heck, that initial triptych is practically a Roald Dahl story with a magical train for an elevator, and a megalomaniacal Dark Lord in place of corporate espionage. Rowling even has chocolate frogs!
Starting with book four, however, Rowling turned up the black light. The Goblet of Fire introduced the finality of death -- in any other story, as the text implies, Cedric Diggory would have been the hero, would have held aloft the trophy, would have lived.
Rowling made it clear in book four that she was going to go in the footsteps of the ancient Greeks, who always had death or disfigurement to balance out the good and the glorious. And after the Brothers Grimm, who didn't shy away from calling a spade a spade, then using it to bury the protagonist. Books five and six have famously continued this plunge into darkness -- a nod to common contemporary thought: to catch the killer, you must think like the killer. Indeed, in books five and seven, Harry is literally inside Voldemort's mind, and must deal with the psychological baggage that comes with that repulsive attachment. Nothing new here, right? It's become an industry unto itself, as the sixty-seven CSI franchises will attest. Need more? Ask Fox Mulder, Clarice Starling, Dominic Da Vinci, or Robert Langdon.
Where Tolkien's hero is elevated to sainthood by his crusade to destroy the superhuman Sauron, Harry Potter starts his adventure swathed in celebrity. The object of his quest is normalcy. The result of his victory, a good woman and a truckload of kids. By the end, Harry has proven to be more Samwise Gamgee than Frodo Baggins, more everyman than tragic hero.
In her wildly anticipated finale, Rowling leaves few threads dangling (unlike, say, Lemony Snicket's largely unsatisfying, triskaidecodic The End), yet avoids longish explanations and overly cumbersome epilogues (apolgies to the venerated Mr Tolkien). This is a welcome change, frankly, from her book 5, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, where at the very climax of the book Harry falls asleep and must hear the conclusion second-hand from a longwinded Dumbledore. Harry's anger at feeling left out was an adequate portrayal of many readers' feelings at having the resolution of that otherwise brilliant 1200-page tome come down to a couple of anecdotes.
Book Seven will be similarly critiqued and second-guessed by many in the weeks and months to come. It's natural for people, especially those of lesser talent, to seek out fault in great works. In time, the entire series will be highly regarded, even studied, not just as a good collection of popular fiction, but as being a genuinely uplifting piece of well-crafted literature.
-- Attempts, and failures, to prevent spoilers below --
Book 7 uses Lord of the Rings perhaps more than any other Potter book has lifted from any one influence; but who else other than Tolkien can claim to have manufactured such a complex, believable universe so similar, yet so unique from our own? Rowling is one of the few modern writers who could do this and get away with it -- but here's hoping she eschews the temptation to release the widely reported, encyclopaedic Potteralion, with all the background and history of each place and character.Of course it's possible to nitpick. The last few books have been criticised for awkward bits of prose, but they mirror aptly the confusion of the 17-year-old protagonists. Her reliance upon the gimmicky Pensieve (lessened, thankfully, in book 7) is, in the scope of her 10,000 pages of Potterlore, a minor indulgence. And hey, can anyone find me a book by Charles Dickens that isn't fraught with show-offish bits of loquacious cleverness? By Tolkien that doesn't smack of naïveté? George Orwell, pomposity? CS Lewis, preaching? Oscar Wilde, ego? Just as altruism hints at selfishness, publishing reeks of idiosyncrasy and tics of personality. That doesn't make Rowling a slouch -- merely human.
The first three books were above average, if not inspired children's lit. They stayed within a fairly well-defined formula: an otherwise unremarkable boy is shipped from a horrible homelife into a stunning world of magic and mystery, and is revealed to be not just unusual, but "The Chosen One." He learns of friendship, experiences pre-destined enmity, and overcomes trials that make his previous suffering seem banal in comparison. Heck, that initial triptych is practically a Roald Dahl story with a magical train for an elevator, and a megalomaniacal Dark Lord in place of corporate espionage. Rowling even has chocolate frogs!
Starting with book four, however, Rowling turned up the black light. The Goblet of Fire introduced the finality of death -- in any other story, as the text implies, Cedric Diggory would have been the hero, would have held aloft the trophy, would have lived.
Rowling made it clear in book four that she was going to go in the footsteps of the ancient Greeks, who always had death or disfigurement to balance out the good and the glorious. And after the Brothers Grimm, who didn't shy away from calling a spade a spade, then using it to bury the protagonist. Books five and six have famously continued this plunge into darkness -- a nod to common contemporary thought: to catch the killer, you must think like the killer. Indeed, in books five and seven, Harry is literally inside Voldemort's mind, and must deal with the psychological baggage that comes with that repulsive attachment. Nothing new here, right? It's become an industry unto itself, as the sixty-seven CSI franchises will attest. Need more? Ask Fox Mulder, Clarice Starling, Dominic Da Vinci, or Robert Langdon.
Where Tolkien's hero is elevated to sainthood by his crusade to destroy the superhuman Sauron, Harry Potter starts his adventure swathed in celebrity. The object of his quest is normalcy. The result of his victory, a good woman and a truckload of kids. By the end, Harry has proven to be more Samwise Gamgee than Frodo Baggins, more everyman than tragic hero.
In her wildly anticipated finale, Rowling leaves few threads dangling (unlike, say, Lemony Snicket's largely unsatisfying, triskaidecodic The End), yet avoids longish explanations and overly cumbersome epilogues (apolgies to the venerated Mr Tolkien). This is a welcome change, frankly, from her book 5, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, where at the very climax of the book Harry falls asleep and must hear the conclusion second-hand from a longwinded Dumbledore. Harry's anger at feeling left out was an adequate portrayal of many readers' feelings at having the resolution of that otherwise brilliant 1200-page tome come down to a couple of anecdotes.
Book Seven will be similarly critiqued and second-guessed by many in the weeks and months to come. It's natural for people, especially those of lesser talent, to seek out fault in great works. In time, the entire series will be highly regarded, even studied, not just as a good collection of popular fiction, but as being a genuinely uplifting piece of well-crafted literature.
July 1, 2007
The double edged sword of *sigh* NHL news in July
I am, as all three of my regular readers know, a huge hockey fan.
I'm also the first one to admit that the current season is waaaaaaay too long. The Stanley Cup should be awarded several months before June, and I'm not the only puckhead to feel this way. So it's with divided allegiance that I comment on the annual free agent frenzy that goes down July 1.
It's freakin' summer. Hockey should be in bed, hibernating until fall. Hell, I even think training camp starts too early -- let 'em sleep till October, like they used to. The only guy who even worked out in the summer was Bobby Hull, and that was on the farm. (Well, okay, I'm sure other guys baled hay, too, but Hull was the first one to show off a buff torso while doing so. I tried and failed to find the picture that was all over the papers back in the day, of Hull with his shirt off, pitchfork in hand, looking like Superman.)
That said, there is hockey news afoot here worth kibbitzing about: while I hate the freelance nature of modern sports -- specifically classy, should-be-franchise-players like Daniel Briere and Ryan Smyth playing roster leapfrog for a few extra million bucks -- I have to say I'm disappoiinted that Canucks bossman Dave Nonis hasn't jumped in on the action. Yeah, it's sad that by losing Briere and Chris Drury, the Buffalo Sabres won't have a prayer of building upon the last two (amazing) seasons. And yeah, it always sucks when deep pockets like the New York Rangers and the Philadelphia Flyers go around the league buying up all the big names. But once, just once, I'd love to pick up the morning paper to see a couple of in-their-prime scoring studs suddenly pulling on Vancouver colours.
I'm ecstatic to have Roberto Luongo here, and I think Markus Naslund has turned from one of the best scoring threats in the league to one of the best two-way players around. But when our team routinely gets outhustled, outbustled and outmuscled, we should be trying to land gutsy players like Smyth and speedy gamebreakers like Briere. You don't think Paul Kariya would look better here than in St Louis? At this point we'll be lucky if Nonis bucks up to sign semi-retired power play specialist John Leclair.
We've got a stud in goal. The Sedin twins are good for a goal a game or so, but the rest of the team only scores when moons turn blue. Let's give Roberto a little more offensive support this season, shall we?
Okay, we now return to our regularly scheduled summer vacation.
I'm also the first one to admit that the current season is waaaaaaay too long. The Stanley Cup should be awarded several months before June, and I'm not the only puckhead to feel this way. So it's with divided allegiance that I comment on the annual free agent frenzy that goes down July 1.
It's freakin' summer. Hockey should be in bed, hibernating until fall. Hell, I even think training camp starts too early -- let 'em sleep till October, like they used to. The only guy who even worked out in the summer was Bobby Hull, and that was on the farm. (Well, okay, I'm sure other guys baled hay, too, but Hull was the first one to show off a buff torso while doing so. I tried and failed to find the picture that was all over the papers back in the day, of Hull with his shirt off, pitchfork in hand, looking like Superman.)That said, there is hockey news afoot here worth kibbitzing about: while I hate the freelance nature of modern sports -- specifically classy, should-be-franchise-players like Daniel Briere and Ryan Smyth playing roster leapfrog for a few extra million bucks -- I have to say I'm disappoiinted that Canucks bossman Dave Nonis hasn't jumped in on the action. Yeah, it's sad that by losing Briere and Chris Drury, the Buffalo Sabres won't have a prayer of building upon the last two (amazing) seasons. And yeah, it always sucks when deep pockets like the New York Rangers and the Philadelphia Flyers go around the league buying up all the big names. But once, just once, I'd love to pick up the morning paper to see a couple of in-their-prime scoring studs suddenly pulling on Vancouver colours.
I'm ecstatic to have Roberto Luongo here, and I think Markus Naslund has turned from one of the best scoring threats in the league to one of the best two-way players around. But when our team routinely gets outhustled, outbustled and outmuscled, we should be trying to land gutsy players like Smyth and speedy gamebreakers like Briere. You don't think Paul Kariya would look better here than in St Louis? At this point we'll be lucky if Nonis bucks up to sign semi-retired power play specialist John Leclair.We've got a stud in goal. The Sedin twins are good for a goal a game or so, but the rest of the team only scores when moons turn blue. Let's give Roberto a little more offensive support this season, shall we?
Okay, we now return to our regularly scheduled summer vacation.
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