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Holy crap, I'd forgotten how certain songs off of BNL's first album raise the hair on the back of my neck- "The Flag" and "Wrap Your Arms Around Me" in particular.
I need to start putting together a NaNoWriMo soundtrack. I also need to study for a quiz and write two papers and a short story and ahahaha oh god I'm going to die.
I'm strongly tempted to write my lit paper on homosexual relationships in The Conference of the Birds and the homoerotic subtext in Layla and Majnuun, and the way these things reflect certain Sufi concepts and ideals. I could specifically analyze the stories dealing with Mahmoud and Ayaz in Conference; they're recurring characters in the book (and I could then possibly also compare them to other recurring characters- like Joseph, or Rabe'a), which means they have a stronger narrative impact every time they show up.
Pederasty was a socially acceptable thing in the classical period, though, so it's not like that particular aspect of Mahmoud's love of Ayaz would have been that shocking. The fact that Ayaz was a slave would've thrown people more- Mahmoud showers him with unseemly affection and privilege. The guy who spends all his time in a whorehouse, with the implication that not only is he partaking of the services on offer, but he is also offering himself- he's the one breaking social conventions through sex. All the other homosexual relationships in the story are pederastic, with the younger man being the object of affection and the incarnation of the Beloved. The Beloved acts as a vessel for the seeker's love, and is not an active participant in the relationship- and this is where I start to have a mental disconnect, because it seems disgusting and profane to me for your symbolic god to be a passive recipient in the believer/deity relationship.
I'm not phrasing this well; it's late and I'm very tired. The birds go in search of the Simorgh, and upon reaching the Simorgh's palace, they realize they are the Simorgh- the thirty birds. Sheikh Sam'an falls in love with a Christian woman and gives up Islam to please her, but in the end she continues to scorn him and he eventually returns to Baghdad. But then she has her eyes and her heart opened to the truth, and she converts to Islam and finds him in Baghdad, only to die in his arms. (I'm not sure I could write a whole paper dissecting the way the real Seeker in that story is the woman, and not Sheikh Sam'an- Sam'an experiences self abbrogation in the service of his Beloved, but he gives it up. He leaves her, turning from the path of Tariqaat, or innate knowledge, back to Sha'riaat, the orthodoxy- but the woman then sacrifices everything, leaves her home and her people and her religion, ultimately to die. Death is the ultimate form of unity, the surest path to Marafaat, or true knowledge. (See the story of the two foxes- when shall they meet again, after touching the divine together? Not until they die. Layla and Majnuun don't become one until death- their lives are a struggle along the Sufi path, but they don't reach a state of unity and nothingness until Majnuun dies on her grave.) Sam'an touches on this, but he doesn't achieve it within the scope of the hoopoe's story.)
You are what you seek- that's what the birds discover. But not all of them reach this point- hundreds of thousands of them die or fall along the Way. You don't achieve oneness with the Beloved without struggle, first. If you go back and apply that idea to all of the stories the hoopoe tells, things look kind of weird. The sayyid is the beer seller; the sheikh is the Christian swinekeeper; some day, the Arab will be the Sufis.
I think I may try to dissect the story of Sam'an and the Christian- it's the longest parable in the story, and its the one I dislike the most. But perhaps if I take it to pieces, I'll be at peace with it.
In the meantime, sleep.
I need to start putting together a NaNoWriMo soundtrack. I also need to study for a quiz and write two papers and a short story and ahahaha oh god I'm going to die.
I'm strongly tempted to write my lit paper on homosexual relationships in The Conference of the Birds and the homoerotic subtext in Layla and Majnuun, and the way these things reflect certain Sufi concepts and ideals. I could specifically analyze the stories dealing with Mahmoud and Ayaz in Conference; they're recurring characters in the book (and I could then possibly also compare them to other recurring characters- like Joseph, or Rabe'a), which means they have a stronger narrative impact every time they show up.
Pederasty was a socially acceptable thing in the classical period, though, so it's not like that particular aspect of Mahmoud's love of Ayaz would have been that shocking. The fact that Ayaz was a slave would've thrown people more- Mahmoud showers him with unseemly affection and privilege. The guy who spends all his time in a whorehouse, with the implication that not only is he partaking of the services on offer, but he is also offering himself- he's the one breaking social conventions through sex. All the other homosexual relationships in the story are pederastic, with the younger man being the object of affection and the incarnation of the Beloved. The Beloved acts as a vessel for the seeker's love, and is not an active participant in the relationship- and this is where I start to have a mental disconnect, because it seems disgusting and profane to me for your symbolic god to be a passive recipient in the believer/deity relationship.
I'm not phrasing this well; it's late and I'm very tired. The birds go in search of the Simorgh, and upon reaching the Simorgh's palace, they realize they are the Simorgh- the thirty birds. Sheikh Sam'an falls in love with a Christian woman and gives up Islam to please her, but in the end she continues to scorn him and he eventually returns to Baghdad. But then she has her eyes and her heart opened to the truth, and she converts to Islam and finds him in Baghdad, only to die in his arms. (I'm not sure I could write a whole paper dissecting the way the real Seeker in that story is the woman, and not Sheikh Sam'an- Sam'an experiences self abbrogation in the service of his Beloved, but he gives it up. He leaves her, turning from the path of Tariqaat, or innate knowledge, back to Sha'riaat, the orthodoxy- but the woman then sacrifices everything, leaves her home and her people and her religion, ultimately to die. Death is the ultimate form of unity, the surest path to Marafaat, or true knowledge. (See the story of the two foxes- when shall they meet again, after touching the divine together? Not until they die. Layla and Majnuun don't become one until death- their lives are a struggle along the Sufi path, but they don't reach a state of unity and nothingness until Majnuun dies on her grave.) Sam'an touches on this, but he doesn't achieve it within the scope of the hoopoe's story.)
You are what you seek- that's what the birds discover. But not all of them reach this point- hundreds of thousands of them die or fall along the Way. You don't achieve oneness with the Beloved without struggle, first. If you go back and apply that idea to all of the stories the hoopoe tells, things look kind of weird. The sayyid is the beer seller; the sheikh is the Christian swinekeeper; some day, the Arab will be the Sufis.
I think I may try to dissect the story of Sam'an and the Christian- it's the longest parable in the story, and its the one I dislike the most. But perhaps if I take it to pieces, I'll be at peace with it.
In the meantime, sleep.
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