Bell

A man in love is dying. He rests on his bed. The beloved woman is not with him. Why she is not there? because they are not married and in this conservative world they can no inhabit together under such circumstance. That is the social context. Whereas the emotional one is cruder: she does not love him. She is at her house. Knitting? Playing the piano? Sleeping? Certainly she is not thinking about him.

The last wish of the man is to see her. He commands to his servant: "Go to her house and bring her to me. Say her she must come to my side: Now."  We need to acknowledge this action, because of it now we know a couple of things: first, on that world you do not ask your siblings or friends to make you an intimate favor, even when you are in the rush of dying. Second, he is not poor, he has at least one servant, nor she is, for in a conservative society there is no pot to melt social classes.

Classes do not mix. But coexist. They are the pattern of the social fabric. How do they communicate among them? To answer that question let say that he is a landlord and she is the daughter of another one. He commands the servant in order to communicate with her. Among people of the upper class a servant is the message (or a door, a laundry machine or a car). That is why the woman takes her time before going to the deathbed: she receives a message, puts it aside, and thinks about going or not, about what to wear, and how to take control of this uncomfortable situation. “What does he want from me? – she wonders – To make me the faster widow in the history?” First lesson: if you are dying, do not send a message, but a messenger that can hurry the situation on your behalf.

The communication is more complicated between a landlord and a servant. Thanks god, customs help to facilitate the dialogue. A servant is not supposed to interrogate a landlord about what he is doing or thinking or ask explanations about why the landlord does not ask a friend to bring the lady. The servant would break this custom only in case of an emergency: "Excuse me for awake you, my lord, I am afraid that the house is on fire. Do you mind if I help you to dress to go outside? I will need to throw some water." Or the servant would break it in case of an extreme personal necessity only if the timing and place allow it, of course. "Dear lord: my son died. And I failed to save the money to his burial..." Second and final lesson: customs are dikes.

Coexistence of far social classes in a close place is a tricky thing to the landlord. He needs to separate the possible settings and manage them in different manners. The regular activities only require him to command accurately and monitor the accomplishment every now and then. "I want the curtains of the library open at the sunrise and close at dusk." Like the fiat. The problem arises, for instance, when the landlord suddenly is thirsty: he is not supposed to shout “A glass of water.” Nor you can expect that he uses his feet and hands and goes to the kitchen to help him. He could do it but he would not. Instead the landlord uses bells to alert the servant that he needs something and to signal where is he.

So, the dying man, William, rings a service bell. The servant goes to him to receive his last command. The servant becomes a walking message that delivers itself to the woman, Barbara Allen. The servant fades away. After a long while, Barbara goes to the deathbed and makes a prognosis for free to William: “You are dying”. She leaves him. William dies while she is walking back to her house. The church bell tolls the knell. Now is god who calls to the service.

The narcissistic Barbara assumes that William died because of her. Barbara does not realize that he was dying before she made the obvious prognosis. She knows that there are a lot of men dying for her. Her narcissism makes Barbara to believe that she is a magnanimous person and decides to manage god’s will, dying the next day in order to avoid a massacre.

Barbara and William were buried almost together, not so far but no so close. Customs are dikes. William is next to the place to sing to god (singing is the way that god prefers to know about his creatures' news). William roots a blood and passion flower. While Barbara is outside, nourishing an almost immaculate little flower. She was good at the end, but not enough to be a white rose.

Hearth

"What circle?" I wonder as I listen to the Carter's song Can the circle be unbroken. Maybe it is the circle of life. However, this is not a circle but a cycle: from birth to death, from ashes and dust to life. The carbon cycle. No, it is not that circle. Why to mourn if this cycle is broken? Why to ask to keep it? It does not guarantee rebirth or reincarnation of those who kick the bucket.

This circle could not be neither the old Greek's and existential Nietzsche's circle of eternal return. Because a circle like that it is not only pagan but also centered in the here and now, not in the eventual end of time and final trial. If every moment is a replica of several moments in the past, we only have one opportunity to make a choice to be ourselves: at this place and this time. This is the foundation of our freedom. And freedom is not a synonym of Lord. They could be similar, but certainly they are not the same. For the simple reason that we can not ask Freedom for the salvation of the soul of those who died. Although it is clear that some of us put our hopes in freedom to liberate our minds and bodies in this life.

Tony's hearth (detail) by Lux (2013)

There is, however, a circle to ask to keep unbroken when a loved one passes away: the circle around the fire that warms the bodies and nourishes the spirits in the night. This is the circle that you want to preserve. Because at this circle there is nothing else but life and joy of living.

Appalachian cabins are unique because their porches, but also for their hearth. They materialize two sides of human experience of place, solitude, and proximity. Outside, at the porch, we enjoy seeing the vast sky and the changing forest. Singing. But to be in peace with all that open space, the mind needs a counterbalance, around the fire, at the hearth, in darkness. Sharing.

In Spanish, the name for hearth is hogar. But hogar also means home. Whereas in Greek mythology Hestia " is a virgin goddess of the hearth, architecture, and the right ordering of domesticity, the family and the state" (see more). A matriarchal figure inhabits the hearth, the heart of the home. The center of the circle. At the end, the song asks the Lord to keep the goddess. It is a matter of balance: openness and intimacy, sunshine and fire light, sun and moon...

Mary

They say that the song is about a certain Mary: Martha's and Lazarus' sister. Maria and Martha pledged for the resuscitation of Lazarus. A miracle like this wipes hesitations about whether or not Jesus is the Messiah or only a prophet. If so, the song is a religious statement.

But she is not the only Mary in the Bible. Maybe she is Maria Magdalena: this Mary cries for the lost of the one who, by means of compassion, sees his humanity in the human drama of the other. If so, the song is about the human seed fostered by the heart.

She could be, nevertheless, a third Mary: the one who cleaned Jesus feet with balm and wipped them with her hair. She cried of joy for the forgiveness of her sins. If so, the song is about hope.

Maybe they were the same woman...

I think, however, that weeping Mary is the sinner one. And only the sinner. The liberty will free the bodies of the slaves, like other bodies were liberated from the Pharaoh. Whereas the grace of God will embrace the faithful souls: no matter if they sinned. There's no reason to cry, there's hope, even if you feel like a feather in the air.