Tuesday, August 17, 2010

Magical Misunderstandings

Although the Greek Magical Papyri and other magical texts were initially disturbing to scholars attached to the image of "rational" Greeks and Romans, the study of ancient magic is now considered an important part of understanding ancient religions in general. Magic was everywhere in the Roman Empire, whether you wanted to cure a headache or ensure victory for your favorite chariot racing team. You could commission love spells, spells to help you in court, or spells to bring success to your business (and I have seen at least one spell for sex and business). Roman novels, like Apuleius' Golden Ass, feature evil witches with dire cabinets of magical curiosities—think nails from the wrists of crucified men, just for starters.

Scholars try to treat these issues with some degree of distance. Perhaps "magic" is just an expression of insecurity and a need to control the uncontrollable in life. Endless conversations have been had about the murky boundaries between "science," "magic," and "religion." It is always interesting to ask what kinds of people would perform magic or pay someone to perform it for them, and what role magic played in daily life.

However, that does not mean that scholarly books about magic will automatically be treated as products of the ivory tower. As it happens, there is a large contingent of people who view books about magic as useful insofar as they provide advice about actually practicing it. And when "popular" scholarly work comes out, would-be practitioners mine them for practical information. Here is an Amazon review of Meyer and Smith's Ancient Christian Magic: Coptic Texts of Ritual Power. All quotations of Amazon reviews are directly copied and pasted, typos and all:
it was ok, but i am not very sure on how to cast the spells. it has a good, but confusing, background. the spells are good, but I am not sure if all i say is the words given or if there is something i should knwo, not given in the book. i expected different.
The book is actually more concerned with the difficulties of distinguishing between "magic" and "religion," and promoting the use of a new term, "ritual power," to describe phenomena normally described as "magical" or "religious." The texts translated and analyzed in the book are papyri, which are sometimes fragmentary—a fact that obviously led to some confusion for another reviewer:
I bought this book hoping for more information on Catholic and Christian folk magic and folk ways. This is deffinently more of a "ceremonial" type book calling on various spirits and angels. There also aren't many amulets presentes as the back of the book boasts, nor are there complete prayers, rather fractions of several prayers with many blanks left in between.
Much to everyone's dismay, there are blanks because the texts just aren't complete anymore! A reviewer of the Greek Magical Papyri, David B. McKinley, also expressed frustration that "there were no substitues or other names for the more unusal ingredients for the spell." My favorite review, however, was by Julian Rose, who made me wonder if my readings of the Greek Magical Papyri could get even more exciting:
This collection of magical procedures from Graeco-Roman Egypt is powerful and fascinating. This is serious magic, and potentially dangerous; caution is advised to those who would work many of these operations. 
Shortly after my wife acquired the magical papyri, I studied the spells and formulae for a research project I was involved in. Strange things began to happen. A wine bottle containing sacred water to be used in an upcoming ceremony suddenly and spontaneously shattered. Now, my theory was that the setting sun had been shining on the enclosed bottle and caused it to explode, but I still felt an occult force at work, and immediately a name jumped into my mind: Typhon/Set. Then I noticed an invocation adressed to Set as the Typhonic being who "shatters all things", to be recited at sunrise and sunset. I found a hymn to Selene - beautiful, evocative, terrifying - that expressed perfectly the essence of the Gorgon which, that very night, was guarding my doorway under the majestic and severe light of the full moon. Magical symbols began appearing to my mind's eye, and I drew one to show my wife, who was reading the papyri at the time; when I gave her drawing, she showed me the page she was reading, and there was the very same symbol. 
Once again, a very powerful book, an excellent source for those researching the pagan occult arts, and not to be approached by the frivolous.
When I see these reviews, I am not entirely sure how to react—I know that the authors of the reviewed books never intended for them to be used this way. And as a skeptic, I can't say I believe in magic to begin with. But it is clear that there is a huge distance between denizens of the ivory tower and a number of their non-academic readers. It's also clear that no matter how you think of your work when you write it, you have no control over how others will read it once it's published and out in the world.

Monday, August 16, 2010

Glenn Beck is Epiphanius

Epiphanius of Salamis, 4th century bishop of Cyprus, is generally famous for two things: his sicko descriptions of the activities of heretics in his Panarion, and his apparent hatred of Greek education. I have never read a description of Epiphanius that did not describe him as a "simple" man with a vicious anti-intellectual streak. Steven Bigham remarks that "Everyone agrees that he knew a great deal, that he read a lot, that he wrote volumes, but everyone does not agree about the depth of his thinking, even his intelligence."[1] Another scholar remarks:
Epiphanius denounced Origenists for mingling philosophical musings with Christian theology. So the worldview which Epiphanius espoused was one which adhered strictly to his narrow understanding of orthodoxy and wholly rejected both heretical Christianity and classical culture. This view should come as no surprise, considering Epiphanius’ education, which was primarily monastic. Monks commonly denounced any form of classical education and advocated a ‘simple’ Christian life based solely on scripture. This monastic education may also explain the quality of his writing style, which has been characterized as nothing more than an ‘elevated Koine.’ This fact becomes particularly important when we consider his contemporary ecclesiastical colleagues. Many of the leaders of the church, including many bishops, were deeply educated in the classical tradition. So perhaps Epiphanius’ more humble education may have left him feeling inadequate. [2]
No matter how politely these comments are worded, the point is clear—Epiphanius is an intellectual lightweight with inferior language skills and "narrow" views. He might even know this about himself, which leads to feelings of insecurity and to attacks on properly educated people. It is true that Epiphanius does not have kind things to say about philosophy or traditional classical education. During his refutation of Origen, he writes, "Ah, how badly you have been hurt, and how many others you have hurt—as though you have been bitten by a baneful viper, I mean secular education, and become the cause of others’ death.”[3]  

It is also abundantly clear, however, that Epiphanius considered himself a scholar and wanted others to agree. He makes constant references to "my fondness for study"[4] and refers to his readers as "scholarly hearers." He goes on long digressions about the nomes in Egypt with the explanation that "If you have intellectual interests, you may find even this of use to you for love of learning and clarity’s sake."[5] He would not have undertaken the massive task of writing the Panarion, a refutation of all known heresies, if he did not consider himself intellectually up to the challenge. 

In America today we have a similar situation with Glenn Beck, one of our most hated TV personalities. His anti-intellectualism is palpable, and I know I have more than once heard him described as "an idiot." YouTube is plastered with videos of him calling for the abolition of public education. One of his books—a pretentious attempt to follow up Paine's Common Sense—contains numerous jibes at "experts" and "Ivy Leaguers," elitist snobs who consider themselves superior to "cabdrivers, mothers, or plumbers" (11). 

A self-proclaimed autodidact, Beck has boasted on the air about his extensive reading habits and is famous for illustrating his points with the aid of a chalkboard (skip to 3:20 or so in this video). His self-comparison to Thomas Paine is also a statement about his desire to be perceived as a great thinker. This year he even began an online "university," where subscribers can be inundated with David Barton lectures for about $6/month. As NY Daily News put it, "The man who wants to abolish public education now aims to educate you."

I can't help but see a pattern here—a couple of guys without the trappings of higher education still want to play ball, and play hard. So what do they do? They try to turn the tables. The people you used to think were credible are actually deluded snobs. Now that you are informed of this truth, who do you turn to? Who is your new trusted source of truth? Glenn Beck has become a non-academic who adopts some of the trappings of one. His chalkboard and his "university" are both claims to authority that he uses to co-opt the privilege and status of a professor even as he trashes the real deal. 

There are probably also some great parallels between Epiphanius' descriptions of heretical debauchery and Beck's wild conspiracy theories, but I hesitate to compare Epiphanius and Glenn Beck too closely. Mainly because I think much more highly of Epiphanius. But I am truly amazed at how little our polemical methods have changed. 



[1] Steven Bigham, Epiphanius of Salamis, Doctor of Iconoclasm? Deconstruction of a Myth. (Rollinsford, NH: Orthodox Research Institute, 2008), 4–5.
[2] Kim Young, “The Geography of Heresy,” in Violence in Late Antiquity Perceptions and Practices, ed. H.A. Drake (Burlington, VT: Ashgate Publishing, 2006), 239.
[3] Epiphanius, Panarion 64.72.5.
[4] Epiphanius, Panarion Proem 2.4.
[5] Epiphanius, Panarion 24.1.2.