LITR 4231 Early American Literature

Sample Research Posts 2014
(research post assignment)


Research Post 2

Jonathon Anderson

4/20/2014

Why is Paradise to the West?

“[A]ll to whom this undertaking was mentioned, unanimously declared it to be a delusion.”  Cristobal Colon, 1503

1.   Departures

In the first few weeks of class, one of the basic patterns we examined was the experience of Europeans exploring the western side of the Atlantic. Rereading the Eden story from Genesis in conjunction with a selection of Columbus’s letters on his discoveries suggested a mythic frame of reference for his voyages, and the detail that God “drove out the man: and he placed at the east of the garden of Eden cherubim, and a flaming sword which turned every way, to keep the way of the tree of life” evoked an intriguing idea of cultural, possibly subconscious, significance for the movement west. We’ve seen that the Pilgrims and Puritans came west seeking to escape their contentious European existence and dreaming of utopias of social simplicity and spiritual innocence. The apopheniac impulse began generating questions: Is it related to the universal East-West orientation of the daily solar cycle? Is it a result of the geographical coincidence that European cultures evolved with a vast unexplored ocean to the west? If so, how far back does the significance of the west go? To these emerging questions, Dr. White added the suggestion of Frederick Jackson Turner’s Frontier Thesis, which also addresses western movement in the specific context of North America.

2.   Cultural Baggage

An initial query into the direction “West” helped focus my research on a few key cultures that seem to have echoes throughout the Western World, namely Ancient Egypt, Ancient Greece, Judeo-Christian tradition, and, since the colonization of the future United States seems to begin with the British Isles, the Celts. In “Sacred Directions, Orientation, and the Top of the Map,” B. L. Gordon observes that “for the pagan Romans and Greeks, and for the Jews, Christians, and Muslims, the principal cosmographic axis was aligned east-west” (218). Egyptianmyths.net adds that “for the ancient Egyptians, the west (specifically the desert west of the Nile) was the destination of the dead. This is because the sun died every day in the western horizon, only to be reborn the next morning in the east.” Yi-Fu Tuan corroborates this in his essay “Ambiguity in Attitudes Toward Environment,” writing that “in the ritual that deifies the king, the body proceeds westward from the valley temple to the pyramid at the edge of the desert” (415). The west was likewise the destination of the dead for the Greeks and Celts, and the direction “has persistently symbolized Satanic darkness, grief, and death for the Christians” (Gordon 214). Although associated with darkness and death in Jewish tradition as well, access to the temple required movement to the west, so it is also associated with a “restored unity with God” (adventistbiblicalresearch.org). That these cultures would orient themselves by the movement of the sun makes sense; not only is sunlight required for life, but sunrise and sunset can be overwhelming aesthetic experiences. Not surprisingly, “both the Jews and the Christians have tried to disassociate east from the worship of the sun” and “frequently condemned [it], since [the] confusion of symbols occurred repeatedly,” as in Ezekiel 8:16 in which the “hand of the Sovereign Lord” in the form of a man shows the prophet a group of men at the entrance to the temple praying to the sun (Gordon 213). The theological value of the east-west orientation maintained its allure, however, as Gordon also mentions on page 216 that “Romanesque and Gothic sculptural programs generally have the Last Judgment on the west end.” The significance of the sun’s rising and setting is clearly a deep-rooted impulse with easy associations of rebirth and death, respectively.

The geographical feature of the western sea also seems to have a prominent role in the symbolic concept of direction. The word for west in Hebrew, yam, means “sea,” and the cardinal archangel of the western corner of the earth, Gabriel, is evidently the elemental angel of water (http://eteacherbiblical.com/articles/four-cardinal-directions; http://thefourelementsearthwaterairfire.wordpress.com/tag/four-cardinal-archangels/). The vast body of water to the west of the European (and African) continent is integrated into these cultures’ concepts of death, the unknown, and Paradise in sometimes remarkably similar ways. The Greeks and Celts both thought of the land of the virtuous dead as being to the west (Elysian Fields for the Greeks and Mag Mell for the Celts), and, although the Egyptian paradise was in the east, the entrance to the underworld that had to be traversed to arrive there was in the west. Also to the west are the mythical lands from which the Egyptians supposedly originate. Diodorus of Sicily writes in 8 BC: "The Egyptians were strangers, who, in remote times, settled on the banks of the Nile, bringing with them the civilization of their mother country, the art of writing, and a polished language. They had come from the direction of the setting sun and were the most ancient of men" (atlantisquest.com). Despite the general regard for Atlantis lore as pseudoscience, or as pure speculation based on the fanciful description Plato gave it while attributing it to the Egyptians in 360 BC, it does seem to have some value as myth, especially in conjunction with similar myths of other ancient (occasionally seafaring) cultures (see Brasil in Celtic lore http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Brasil_(mythical_island)) and with the consideration of the North American continent on the other side of the “western sea.”

3.   Frontiers

Consequently, colonists crossing the Atlantic in the 16th and 17th centuries brought with them thousands of years of superstition and anxiety about the west. In discussing “the habit of differentiating space into center and periphery,” which “seems to be worldwide,” Tuan describes the significance of the journey away “from [a culture’s] sacred center, [as] space radiates outward and becomes increasingly profane, ending in wilderness or in a ring of primordial waters” (416). Europeans identified America as precisely that kind of wilderness that “was the realm beyond God’s presence and somewhat beyond his control” (420).  Tuan also notes, though, that the “image of wilderness was not wholly dark. In the Old Testament the pre-exilic prophets…interpreted the forty years of wandering in the desert as a period when God was especially close to Israel.” Christ went to the wilderness to be tempted by Satan and withdrew from men into a lonely spot in order to pray. A “high mountain” was the setting for both temptation and transfiguration. Tuan points out that “from the second to the fourth century, hermits ventured into the Egyptian wilderness as spiritual athletes…to strengthen their souls by doing battle with Satan in his own realm…[yet] the hermits also saw themselves as living in Edens of innocence.”

Frederick Jackson Turner sees a similar ambiguity toward “wilderness” in his “The Significance of the Frontier in American History,” describing the quintessential frontier experience as the “meeting point between savagery and civilization.” He seems to see the movement away from cultural center into the unknown threats of the wilderness as one of the defining features of Americans, writing “[the] perennial rebirth, this fluidity of American life, this expansion westward with its new opportunities, its continuous touch with the simplicity of primitive society, furnish the forces dominating American character.” Like Tuan, Turner recognizes the benefits and drawbacks of civilization. Tuan sees “the Eden myth…locat[ing] temptation in the heart of the landscape of innocence,” where the isolated and organized world that protects and nurtures also smothers because of its inherent lack of challenge and change (421). Turner sees the process almost in Hegelian terms of continual becoming, where each new frontier is a catalyst for further development enriched by the successes and errors of previous frontiers in a dynamic evolution. The inevitable arrival of advanced social structures as more people settle (and crowd) any given frontier in turn motivates the attainment of the next wilderness, since “the frontier is productive of individualism,” the tendency of which “is anti-social, produc[ing] antipathy to control” (Turner). In other words, were we to flip the binary east-west or civilization as good/wilderness as bad polarity, we could make an inference from Sartre’s famous line: if “hell is other people,” paradise must be solitude. Turner seems to anticipate this attitude when he says that each frontier is “a gate of escape from the bondage of the past; and freshness, and confidence, and scorn of older society.” If we entertain this reading of the American experience, the American character does indeed seem to be something new. The concept of paradise would have to be revised from the traditional existence without want or suffering to an existence of individual free will and an enthusiastic embrace of the threat of the unknown.

4.   Next Steps

Dr. White warned me early on that this question of the cultural significance of direction and its relation to the concept of Paradise may prove to be more of a preliminary survey of the question than an exhaustive consideration. I have tried to give an overview of the beginnings of my investigations into this subject while pointing to further possibilities. One thing I would like to do to further this endeavor is to consult the primary sources for the Egyptian, Greek, Judeo-Christian, and Celtic traditions in order to track their further resonances. Any one of these topics, along with the study Turner encouraged of our own culture’s development, only seems limited in its vastness by the ambitions of the individual’s pursuit.   Wikipedia has grown to function as a sort of (very convenient!) thumbnail sketch of topics for quick reference and comparison, but for all its utility, only the primary sources contain the sundry details that encode authenticity and furnish the myriad links that allow us to fashion our intertextual webs of meaning.

It may all reduce to geographical, and astronomical, coincidence. The information I found certainly fits that theory. Step one: planet rotates toward the east. Step two: various story-telling peoples happen to settle a land bordered on the west by an immense (possibly endless) body of water. Step three: add to the equation people eager to rush into the face of the unknown for dubious distinction. Step four: land on the shore of a new paradise – that paid off; keep moving west. Much like Henry James said of a work of fiction, we must grant the starting point. The stories we assemble from the innumerable stories already told can only have value inasmuch as they explore new frontiers of wonder.

Works Cited

Gordon, B. L. “Sacred Directions, Orientation, and the Top of the Map.” History of Religions. 10.3 (1971): 211-227.

Tuan, Yi-Fu. “Ambiguity in Attitudes toward Environment.” Annals of the Association of American Geographers. 63.4 (1973): 411-423.

Turner, Frederick Jackson. “The Significance of the Frontier in American History.” University of Virginia Department of English. Univ. of Virginia, 30 Sep. 1997. Web. 13 Apr. 2014.