This is Why I Fear the French -Will Brady
So I played the pagan page-flipping, line-pointing, destiny-deciding game right before making this blog, and my fortune was line 889 of book VIII: "At night, the silvery goose warned of the Gauls." Therefore I shall blog upon the fact that I now fear the French and can trust the wisdom of water fowl.
But before I get there, I just have to talk about the monomyth in The Aeneid and its stark similarities with certain other pieces of literature. Aeneas and his band are driven from their home by the maniacal big wooden horse the Greeks had--that part seems fairly original. However, the next step of this band of homeless runaways fleeing from their oppressors is something we've heard before: they're traveling to a land promised to them by the gods, who assure them that they will become the greatest nation on earth. Along the way they pass through some other kingdoms, meet a few enemies who try to curse them (like the harpies), and flee in terror from a race of giants.
Yes, I'm a theology guy. But bear with me, because this has too many similarities to the exodus of the Israelites. The divine covenant, the passage through neighboring nations, the attempted cursing by Balak of Moab, the colossal nephilim dwelling in Canaan... It's all there, in one of the very earliest written works ever produced. Is it an exact, situation-for-situation replica? Well, no. But all the pieces are there. This is why I have little trouble believing in that idea of a subconscious, universal monomyth: it could easily be just a part of the subconscious, universal awareness of God (citation: Romans 1:19-20). Everything about the theoretical monomyth and all of its story elements that we've seen seem to come out of Biblical accounts, and the hero's journey resembles the life of Jesus in most of its points (the phase of reluctance is the only outlier that immediately comes to mind, though I don't have all the points in front of me right now).
Now, bearing all this in mind, the French are quite terrifying. I'm really not certain how I ever trusted them before. I hold nothing against them, but this unsettling horror weighs at the back of my mind like a sumo wrestler with his pants stuffed full of lead bricks. That's a lot of weight. Talking to the geese is the only thing that seems to alleviate my suffering. Send help.
P.S. I commented on Annakate and Dakota’s posts.
But before I get there, I just have to talk about the monomyth in The Aeneid and its stark similarities with certain other pieces of literature. Aeneas and his band are driven from their home by the maniacal big wooden horse the Greeks had--that part seems fairly original. However, the next step of this band of homeless runaways fleeing from their oppressors is something we've heard before: they're traveling to a land promised to them by the gods, who assure them that they will become the greatest nation on earth. Along the way they pass through some other kingdoms, meet a few enemies who try to curse them (like the harpies), and flee in terror from a race of giants.
Yes, I'm a theology guy. But bear with me, because this has too many similarities to the exodus of the Israelites. The divine covenant, the passage through neighboring nations, the attempted cursing by Balak of Moab, the colossal nephilim dwelling in Canaan... It's all there, in one of the very earliest written works ever produced. Is it an exact, situation-for-situation replica? Well, no. But all the pieces are there. This is why I have little trouble believing in that idea of a subconscious, universal monomyth: it could easily be just a part of the subconscious, universal awareness of God (citation: Romans 1:19-20). Everything about the theoretical monomyth and all of its story elements that we've seen seem to come out of Biblical accounts, and the hero's journey resembles the life of Jesus in most of its points (the phase of reluctance is the only outlier that immediately comes to mind, though I don't have all the points in front of me right now).
Now, bearing all this in mind, the French are quite terrifying. I'm really not certain how I ever trusted them before. I hold nothing against them, but this unsettling horror weighs at the back of my mind like a sumo wrestler with his pants stuffed full of lead bricks. That's a lot of weight. Talking to the geese is the only thing that seems to alleviate my suffering. Send help.
P.S. I commented on Annakate and Dakota’s posts.
You caught my attention with your phobia of water fowl and the french, but you kept me with your parallel of the Israelite and the Trojan journey. The pieces are all there for it to match up. I agree with you on the subconsciousness awareness of God. Not only looking at this work but a lot of famous ancient works contain elements that can be traced to the bible. I loved this post Will.
ReplyDeleteUn: Ce sont des gens merveilleux. Ne crains pas les français.
ReplyDeleteDeux: Now to be serious and ignoring my terrible translation of French, I would have to say that your similarities between the Trojan story and the one of the Israelites is not one that was expecting but can see the merits of have. Several pieces of ancient literature and stories hold pieces that are similar to the accounts of the gospel -- something we saw earlier in the semester in The Epic of Gilgamesh with an account of a great flood and again here with comparisons to the famous Exodus. This seems to point to the idea that society has had bits and pieces of God's Word stored in them, regardless of what their society may tell them, something you described much more eloquently and better terms above.
Trois: That first opening line was epic and I had to read it three times because it was hilarious and I couldn't stop laughing.