The young Lord is brought up in the castle where the flags, tapestries and arms displayed on the walls tell of the past glories of his family. The crosses and stain-glass tell of the reality of God. The scripture readings and parables told by the priest in the lavish chapel tell of the infallibility of the Pope with promises of heaven for the faithful.
Buying into this shared narrative, reinforced by all who surround him, by the prayers, scriptures, hymns and rituals, he is led to believe that he is deserving of his privilege that he possesses and that Roman Catholic Christianity is the one and only true faith.
He is told that the heathen have taken the Holy Land and God, via the Pope, wants the faithful to drive the heathen out of the holy places.
Full of zealous fury he raises an army and sets of to embark on a holy mission with the full approval of his family, friends and clergy, and with admiring looks from the young ladies, safe in the knowledge that he is doing God’s will and should he succumb and perish on the battle-field he will be rewarded in heaven.
He joins like-minded people under the flag of the all-knowing Pope, and sets off to martyr himself in a foreign land for an idea created by men.
In that land he does battle with men just like himself who have bought into a different myth created by men, who wear a different costume, perform different rituals, have a different flag, a different holy leader, different gospels and support a different god. They also believe that if they die in the cause they will be rewarded in paradise.
The power of a narrative myth on human beings has been fundamental in creating joint actions for subjective myths brought into being from the minds of people. Religions, nations and money are all creations of the imagination yet we unify and give them substance. These myths have shaped human history. They are powerful.
I like this little series of attempts to enter into the mind-sets of people lost in narrative myths – as we all are, to some extent. To break the influence of the mama beat – as the good Captain Beefheart called it – takes an extraordinary effort of will and perception. Art helps. Recognising the trance is the first step.
Thanks Dave. There is a danger of stereotyping but none the less, IMO, an element of illuminating the crevices.
Light up them cracks, I say!
Me too!
I agree with Dave – recognition of the reality of myth is the first step. Great post, Opher!
Thanks John. I have a couple more I might put up. Waking up to the forces that are acting upon us in a social setting seems important to me. It’s a step towards objectivity.
Don’t forget we create our own myths without the help of anyone else. I convinced myself my kids would be forsaken if I wasn’t home with them when they were young. I didn’t want them to be latch-key kids like I was. I made a vow to myself I would not work until they were in junior high school. When I would consider going to work before that, I would feel such guilt. But I stuck to my own narrative and never looked back — though it wreaked havoc with our finances.
That’s right Cheryl. We lay traps for ourselves don’t we?
Yep. Too bad we don’t recognize them before they have a chance to create such chaos in our lives sometimes.
Recognising the traps is something that comes out of writing I think.