In the spirit of modernist poets and artists such as Marianne Moore and Joseph Cornell who juxtaposed the stuff and substance of high culture with pop cultural treasure, I offer you all of the fortune cookie fortunes that I am currently carrying in my wallet:
Take the advice of a faithful friend.
You find what you're looking for; just open your eyes!
Look forward to great fortune and a new lease on life!
Do not mistake temptation for opportunity.
Opportunity always ahead if you look and think.
You will always be surrounded by true firends. [sic]
Although a few of these fortunes sound a bit ominous, on the whole they offer solid advice and generous predictions about my future. Few things are as reassuring as a good fortune, or as disappointing as an unfavorable one. While some might place the fortune cookie in the realm of superstition, it is uncanny that so many people look for assurance, confirmation, and validation in material signs, whether from a beneficent sky, a successful shake of the Magic 8 Ball, or the serendipitous find of a four-leafed clover. Perhaps my favorite example is that of Mary Baker Eddy's reassurance during a troubling time upon opening a drawer and finding a rubber band that had curled into the shape of a heart. (Mary Ann Caws refers to this in her fabulous book on Joseph Cornell)
Showing posts with label superstition. Show all posts
Showing posts with label superstition. Show all posts
Thursday, March 4, 2010
Saturday, December 12, 2009
Superstition: The Power of Basil
"The Creole sauntered across to the counter and nipped the herb which still lay there.
'Mr. Frowenfeld, you know what some very excellent people do with this?
They rub it on the sill of the door to make the money come into the house.'
Joseph stopped aghast with the drawer half drawn.
'Not persons of intelligence and-----'
'All kinds. It is only some of the foolishness which they take from the slaves. Many of your best people consult the voudou horses.' "
This quote is taken from George Washington Cable's The Grandisssimes (1880) a novel set in New Orleans at the time of the Louisiana Purchase. In this scene, Agricola Fusilier instructs the newest apothecary, the northern born Joseph Frowenfeld, in the local practice of voudou. The herb in question is basil or basilic and it has been requested of Frowenfeld by the major female character of the novel, Aurore Nancanou, who does not have enough money to make rent. Frowenfeld, who is the naif for most of this novel, is surprised by the citizenry's superstitious beliefs.
For Cable, superstition is but one outer manifestations of a society that is weak and rotten--economically, politically, and racially. Seemingly exotic--much like the landscape, flora and fauna---Creole superstitions are nevertheless part of a system of beliefs that is irrational and that relocates agency in spirits rather than in human effort or worthiness. I've written about the power of herbs before. And while this is not the most significant passage in Cable's novel, it is interesting to think about the strong hold that superstition has on the imagination--even in contemporary times. The idea that charms can safeguard us, or that supernatural beings can work to our advantage is a persistent one. If Cable's assessment is historically specific in some ways, it also underscores something about human fears about the essential insecurity of life and the way we look to the material world for reassurance of our good fortune.
'Mr. Frowenfeld, you know what some very excellent people do with this?
They rub it on the sill of the door to make the money come into the house.'
Joseph stopped aghast with the drawer half drawn.
'Not persons of intelligence and-----'
'All kinds. It is only some of the foolishness which they take from the slaves. Many of your best people consult the voudou horses.' "
This quote is taken from George Washington Cable's The Grandisssimes (1880) a novel set in New Orleans at the time of the Louisiana Purchase. In this scene, Agricola Fusilier instructs the newest apothecary, the northern born Joseph Frowenfeld, in the local practice of voudou. The herb in question is basil or basilic and it has been requested of Frowenfeld by the major female character of the novel, Aurore Nancanou, who does not have enough money to make rent. Frowenfeld, who is the naif for most of this novel, is surprised by the citizenry's superstitious beliefs.
For Cable, superstition is but one outer manifestations of a society that is weak and rotten--economically, politically, and racially. Seemingly exotic--much like the landscape, flora and fauna---Creole superstitions are nevertheless part of a system of beliefs that is irrational and that relocates agency in spirits rather than in human effort or worthiness. I've written about the power of herbs before. And while this is not the most significant passage in Cable's novel, it is interesting to think about the strong hold that superstition has on the imagination--even in contemporary times. The idea that charms can safeguard us, or that supernatural beings can work to our advantage is a persistent one. If Cable's assessment is historically specific in some ways, it also underscores something about human fears about the essential insecurity of life and the way we look to the material world for reassurance of our good fortune.
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