Rezension: Liebste Fenschel! von Peter Härtling

Peter Härtling

Liebste Fenschel!

Das Leben der Fanny Hensel-Mendelssohn

  in Etüden und Intermezzi

DTV Verlag, München, 2013

367 Seiten

Dieser Roman ist lesenswert und unterhaltend, besonders für Leser, die auch Musikliebhaber sind.  Zur Vorbereitung hat der Autor viele Briefe und andere Dokumente gründlich untersucht; man kann beim Lesen deutlich spüren, dass ihn Fanny Mendelssohn fasziniert; und sie fasziniert uns auch.

Ich kannte schon einige Lieder und Klavierstücke von Fanny; ohne Zweifel war sie sehr begabt.  Ich habe einmal am Radio gehört, dass einige meinen, sie sei ebenso begabt als ihr berühmter Bruder war; wir werden das aber nie wissen, weil sie in der Entfaltung ihrer Karriere als Muiskerin vom Vaterhaus und vom Zeitgeist gehindert war.  Wie dem auch sei, meine ich, dass ihre besten Kompositionen den zweitrangingen Stücken ihres Bruders ebenbürtig sind.  Aber die besten Kompositionen von Felix Mendelssohn sind allen ihren Werken weit überlegen.  Sie bleibt, aber, ein grosses Talent und eine faszinierende Figur.

Das Buch ist keine reine Biographie, sondern ein Roman.  Peter Härtling hat mit Hilfe alter Dokumente und seiner eigenen Einbildungskraft gute plastische Szenen geschrieben. Als Fanny und ihre Familie nach Italien reisten, konnte der Leser sich vorstellen, dass er/sie mitgereist wäre, weil alles so lebhaft geschildert ist.

Wir wissen schon, ehe wir ein Wort lesen, was ein Nebenthema des Romans sein wird, nämlich die gesellschaftliche Unterdrückung von Frauen.  Fanny war eine höchst begabte Komponistin und Klaviervirtuosin.  Sie wollte tun, was ihr Bruder tat: die Welt mit ihren eigenen Musik erobern.

Der Vater war ein guter Mann.  Wie die meisten Leute seines Zeitalters hatte er aber gewisse Einstellungen gegenüber Frauen.  Er behauptete fest, dass ein Mädchen nie Komponistin werden dürfte.  (Warum das so ist sagt er nicht.)  Selbst ihr berühmter Bruder ist damit einverstanden.  Der Roman ist aber keine bittere Geschichte von der Unterdrückung einer Frau.  Der Autor beschreibt nicht; er versucht stattdessen uns zu zeigen, dass sie ebensogut und in manchen Fällen besser als viele männliche Komponisten ihrer Epoche war.  Dem Leser wird klar, dass ihrer Begabung Welterkenntnis zukommen sollte.  Aber die mangelnde Teilnahme von der Umwelt hat sie nicht dazugebracht, ihre Musik aufzugeben.  Ganz im Gegenteil!

Wir lesen, dass der Vater ihr klar machte, dass sie nur Hausmusik als Frau treiben dürfte.  Aber Hausmusik hat eine ganz andere Bedeutung wenn man in einem Haus wohnt, das ein Zentrum der Musik für ganz Deutschland war.  Für die Sonntagskonzerten bei den Mendelssohns haben Fanny und Felix neue Werke komponiert.  Die wichtigsten Musiker in der Umgebung and von weit weg wohnten diesen Konzerten bei.  Mit anderen Worten: Fanny genoss ein reiches musikalisches Lebern.

Antisemitismus wird in diesem Roman auch dargestellt.  Obgleich Felix viel für die Berliner Sängerakademie geleistet hat, wie, z. B., die Neuentdeckung von Bachs Matthäus Passion, wird er nicht eingeladen, Direktor der Akademie zu werden, weil er jüdischer Herkunft  war.  Dass die Familie zum Christentum übergetreten ist, machte nichts aus.  Die Untertreibung von Vorfällen dieses giftigen Vorurteils ist dem Autor sehr gelungen und beindrückt uns um so mehr, weil wir mit den Vorgängen des letzten Jahrhunderts vertraut sind.  Hier ist ein Beispiel--die Familie bespricht einen Anprall von Hass ("Hepp, hepp, Judenpack, verreck!"), der Fussgänger an Felix und Fanny neulich gerichtet hatten:

Bis in der Nacht redeten sie über die Gemeinheit der Verfolger und wie sie den Juden nachstellten, woher sie wüssten, dass sie Juden seien, ob man es ihnen ansähe, ob es nur Neid sei, aber sie fielen doch nicht auf, sie blieben alle bescheiden...Wir sind und bleiben die Anderen, die nicht passen, die verhöhnt und vertrieben werden können...(Abraham versucht, seine Frau zu beschwichtigen.)  Aber nein!  Sie liess sich auf einen der Stühle fallen.  Aber nein!  An die hält sich doch keiner.  Jeder Strassenköter kann uns vor sich hertreiben, in die Waden beissen.  Und sobald wir uns wehren, wird es heissen: Die sind Juden.  Und gelänge es uns, recht zu bekommen, würde es uns nachgesagt: Es ist ihr Geld.  Die haben sich Freundlichkeiten erzahlt.  Stimmt es?  Ihre Stimme überschlug sich fragend.

                                                      (S. 117. 118)

Peter Härtling ist ein begabter Schriftsteller.  Hier ist seine kurze Schilderung der Brautnacht von Fanny und Wilhelm Hensel--(Man soll nicht vergessen, dass sie bis dann nie allein miteinander waren, wie es im 19. Jahruhundert üblich war):

"Um neun gingen wir auseinander," trug sie ins Tagebuch ein.  Luise und Minne, Hensels Schwestern, begleiteten sie bis zum Gartenhaus.  "Dann schweige ich," schrieb sie.  Doch hinter dem Satz bereitete sich Unruhe aus, versuchte Nähe, plözlich erlaubt, der Geruch des anderen, seine Haut, die geteilte Angst und der Versuch, sich atemlos zu vergessen.

                                                                   (S. 154)

Schöne Worte!

Mir kam der Roman wie ein gelungener Film der 40. Jahren vor.  Damals hatte fast jeder Film eine musikalsiche Begleitung.  Mir waren fast alle der erwähnten Stücke bekannt. (Die mir unbekannten hörte ich im YouTube zu.)  Dann hörte ich sie in meinem Kopf spielen als ich den Roman las.  Nein, ich bin der Meinung, dass der Roman sogar besser ist als das Mehrzahl von jenen Filmen ist.  Er ist eine Unterhaltung ersten Ranges.

                                             --Thomas Dorsett


Anmerkungen


Mein besonderer Dank gilt Mary Upman vom Deutschen 

Literaturkreis in Baltimore.  Sie hat diese Rezension vorsichtig korrigiert und 

verbessert  

Vielen Dank, Mary!

Weitere Artikel auf deutsch von Thomas Dorsett (Googeln 

Sie den Titel und dem Namen, Thomas Dorsett)

1. Jakob der Lügner von Jurek Becker

2. Die Weisheit und das Alter von Thomas Dorsett

3. Die Herrlichkeit des Lebens von Michael Kampfmüller

4. Ruhm von Daniel Kaufmann



Die Mitglieder vom deutschen Literaturkreis online machen eine Pause bis 

September 2014, wann wir Die Letzte Welt von Christoph Ransmayr besprechen 

werden.  Wir laden sie ein den Roman mitzulesen; meine Resenzion wird am 

Anfang Oktober erscheinen.

                                                                       TD

RAMANA MAHARSHI AND THE FIVE SKANDHAS

What is the self?  Buddha and Ramana Maharshi are in complete agreement: what we call the ego is a bodily construct that has no independent reality.  Limited (ego) consciousness is a hindrance to cosmic consciousness and a major source of misery.  Not only does it cause harm to the individual afflicted by an unbalanced sense of self; egotism's unholy trinity of greed, hate and delusion also enables such individuals to harm others, thus propagating and increasing suffering.   The Five Skandhas, an ancient and core teaching of Buddhism, can help overcome this misery.  This article will discuss the five skandhas, then interpret them in regard to evolution, and will finish with an interpretation of the fifth skandha that is in agreement with the teachings of Ramana Maharshi, (1889-1950), a great avatar of Advaita Hinduism--the teaching of non-duality.

A, THE FIVE SKANDHAS--Traditional Interpretation

The Sanskrit word "skandha" literally means "aggregate" or "heap."  They denote five aspects of being human.  Buddha placed great emphasis on the teaching of the five skandhas; they were mentioned in his first sermon and many times thereafter.  They are a core teaching of all schools of Buddhism,  prominent in both Theravada and Mahayana traditions.  Buddhism asserts that we are made of these skandhas much in the same way that a puzzle image arises when the pieces are all attached.  The image is not a separate entity, it is merely a composite.  Thus, what we call the self is merely heaps of elements; the self as such is insubstantial.  Clinging to any one of the skandhas causes dissatisfaction; truly recognizing the skandhas for what they are results in liberation.

First let us discuss the skandhas as they are traditionally depicted.  (The Sanskrit names of the skandhas have their equivalents in all major languages of lands where Buddhism has flourished.  I will use the Sanskrit term for each skandha, along with an English translation.)

1. Rupa, Form.  This refers to the material world, which not only includes all external objects--moon, stars, carrots, money, etc. etc., but also includes all internal objects, such as the heart and the brain.

2. Vedana, Sensation or Feeling. An example would be feeling a pinprick without pinpointing its source.  It is sensation without any kind of interpretation.  The sensation can either be pleasant, unpleasant, or neutral.

3.  Samjña, Perception.  An example is feeling a pinprick and being aware that it has been  caused by a pin. Perception can result from any of the five senses, visual perception, olfactory perception, tactile perception, etc.  (A pattern is becoming obvious: we begin with no awareness in skandha one; awareness begins with skandha two and increases in subsequent skandhas.)

4. Samskara, Mental Formations.  Buddhism generally considers the action of the mind to be a sixth sense.  Its purview, thought, begins by processing the sense data the rest of the body relays to it.  Concepts become incredibly complex as data pass through the many billions of neurons which  connect with each other in a truly astounding number of ways. Storage of impressions, memories, combined with new sense data and new thoughts gives rise to the thought that there is an abiding self in charge or at least experiencing the workings of the entire machine.  The separate existence of this self is what both Buddhism and Advaita Hinduism deny.

Mental formations include opinions, ideas, prejudices, desires, etc.  The substratum of mental formations is the ego; mental formations are usually, to one degree or another, personalized.  "I wish I were a rich man," is an example of a mental formation.

5. Vijñana or Consciousness  This is defined as "that which cognizes," that is, the awareness of being aware. The fifth skandha is a bit redundant--beginning with skandha three,  consciousness must be present.  Mental formations would be impossible without a highly developed consciousness.  The important thing to remember here is that the ability to say, "I am aware I am hungry," instead of "I am hungry," does not indicate that there is a thinking self separate from nature.  Although common sense tells us that each of us is a unitary individual, it is not true; personhood can be deconstructed into aggregates, just like anything else in the phenomenal world.


B, THE FIVE SKANDHAS--An Evolutionary Interpretation

Although Buddha utilizes the skandhas to deconstruct sentient beings--especially humans--the light of modern science illuminates something that remained hidden in Buddha's time, namely the course of cosmic evolution from "nothing" to the highest form of life we know.  This aspect in no way replaces the original interpretation; it, in fact, strengthens it.  The evolutionary interpretation came to me in a eureka moment; I don't think it's ever been written about before.  In the evolutionary interpretation, we find not only a path from the simple to the complex; we will discover that it is a two-way path, or loop.  The simple gives rise to the complex, and the complex gives rise to all the skandhas of the universe, including "simple" photons, complex stars, and the most intricate things we know of,  you and me.   It is a mysterium tremendum et fascinans, without a doubt.  The thought of the sage, Ramana Maharshi, and of the great scientist, Stephen Hawking--along with many other scientists-- converge in this interpretation, providing its insight with additional validity.  Let us proceed to discuss the skandhas in this new light.

1. Skandha one: Rupa, Form.

Modern science allows us to extend the definition of "form"  to include the entire universe of matter, dark matter, and the energy of the vacuum.  Most of the universe is composed of elements radically different from the  matter we are used to, such as suns, ping pong balls and bacteria.  The sum total of all luminous matter in the universe--the vast galaxies and even vaster clusters of galaxies--comes to only 4% of the density of the total!  An astonishing 23% of the universe is made up of so-called dark matter--and we don't even know what dark matter is.  Its effects, however, can be measured.  Without dark matter, galaxies would fly apart; dark matter is definitely present everywhere.  Even more astonishing: 73% of the universe is made up of so-called dark energy, the energy of the vacuum, which is causing the universe to expand more and more rapidly.

The vacuum is often referred to as nothing, but it is actually a dynamic entity, a thing.  This is a very important point.  The old question, "How can a universe arise from nothing?" is actually meaningless.  There is as much evidence for absolutely nothing as there is for angels on the head of a pin.  What we commonly refer to as nothing is space devoid of ordinary matter.  (The average material density of the universe is one hydrogen atom per cubic meter of space--thus, most of the universe is made up of this nothing which in fact isn't nothing.)  As Einstein proved, space is converted into time as the speed of light is approached, much as water turns into ice when the ambient temperature falls, except space turns into time gradually, in proportion to velocity, and not all of a sudden.  Thus, space, like water, is a thing.  It is indeed a very strange thing; it is not discrete.  Over an incredibly short distance of less than a billionth of a billionth of a billionth of a  centimeter, at the so-called Planck length, space breaks down into a very stormy "foamy sea." This is the area in which countless tiny "virtual" particles come in and out of existence. (The conservation of energy law is not violated because positive particles are matched by negative ones and cancel each other out in a very small fraction of a second.)  Here's something even more amazing than the existence of this virtual world: it is postulated that, due to quantum variation, an occasional particle will rise from"nothing" with such a large amount of energy that it becomes real. This, in fact, may be the source of the big bang!  If this is actually what happened, the universe is the ultimate "free lunch" with no need of supernatural intervention.  The Catholic dogma that God created the world out of nothing now becomes: "Nothing, which isn't really nothing, created the world all by itself."  We might never know why the vacuum has the properties it does, but we do know this: the vacuum represents the universe in its most simple--and creative--form.  Out of this simplicity complexity arises--namely the big bang, followed by the evolution of the universe to the present day.

In summary:

1. Absolutely nothing is a concept which can exist in the mind, but does not exist  in nature.
2. What is commonly called nothing, "empty space" or the vacuum, an area devoid of ordinary matter, is, in fact, a thing that has very specific properties.
3. The vacuum is the most simple thing in the universe.  It is likely the source of the big bang, thus resulting in the universe we, very complex beings, inhabit.
4. The first skandha, form, in the light of modern physics, reveals the beginning of cosmic evolution --something arising out of "nothing." Both "something" and "nothing" constitute the first skandha.
5. No supernatural intervention is necessary for evolution, whether cosmic or terrestrial. The vacuum may well be eternal, thus predating the big bang.  Although there is no evidence for an eternal being, eternal creation is a real possibility.

2. The Second Skandha, Vedana, Sensation

We are now at a critical point of cosmic evolution.  "Nothing" has created something, the material, inert world.  Now we proceed to the origin of life.  We don't know exactly how life first formed, but matter somehow "learned" to replicate, and life began as organisms composed entirely of matter.  We do know that life on Earth began shortly after Earth began--life has been present on the blue planet for at least 3 1/2 billion years, which is about a quarter of the time that has elapsed since the big bang.  For about three billion years, life consisted of unicellular organisms--deadly cosmic rays prevented the formation of more complex creatures.  Then with the so-called Cambrian explosion--a very slow explosion over the course of millions of years--multicellular organisms formed.  One of the earliest groups of multicellular organisms belong to the phylum Echinocderm, examples of which are still ubiquitous among marine life.  Starfish belong to the class, Asteroidea, of the phylum Echinoderm.  I think they are among the weirdest forms of life on the planet.  They have been with us for over 450 million years, long before the age of the dinosaurs.  Looking at a starfish on the beach is like looking at a star in the sky--We, when observing very distant stars, are looking far back in time; when we look at starfish we are looking far back in time to a much earlier period of evolution.  Starfish are truly "living fossils."

This stage of evolution is on the level of the second skandha.  I will now explain why this is so. Starfish have hearts but no blood; they pump sea water through their body.  Starfish musculature controls the expulsion of water which results in locomotion--at less than a snail's pace.  They have no brain, although they do have three neural rings.  They do, however, respond to touch, temperature, light and other stimuli.  This, of course, represents a major step forward from inorganic matter.  I will now explain their ability to react to light in more detail. At the end of  each of the (usually) five arms of the starfish, eyespots are located.  Remember that old argument against evolution--What good is half an eye?  Well, the starfish has much less than a half an eye, which suits it perfectly and represents the very beginning of the evolution of vision. The starfish also has photoreceptor cells in other bodily locations.  (Whether the starfish moves toward the light or away from it depends on the species; some are comfortable in tidal areas, other prefer living in darkness at tremendous depths.)

When light falls on a starfish arm, the animal is able to react and to change position.  Since it lacks a brain, it has no idea whatsoever about the source of the stimulus  There is, of course, no starfish ego telling it, "I feel light; I will approach it."  At this stage of evolution, there is just enough neural tissue to react to a stimulus; there is not enough to interpret it.  Thus, a starfish has an inchoate eye, but not an inchoate I. Sensation without interpretation; this is the realm of the second skandha.

3. The Third Skandha, Samjña, Perception

With the passage of time, evolution produced more complex life forms.  Vertebrates represent a sea-change among sea creatures.  They branched off from invertebrates early, during the time of the Cambrian explosion, 500 million years ago.  Bones afforded protection for brains, which progressed over hundreds of millions of years, resulting in the extraordinary organ between our ears.  But that's the fourth skandha; the third skandha lies in the realm of creatures far less complicated than us, cats, dogs, crows, etc.

A good example of the third skandha is illustrated by my cat, Chai.  When my son visits us, he turns from a busy street into our street; our house is located toward the end of the block.  Although our street is basically quiet, the cars of neighbors, returning from work or leisure, are by no means rare.  Chai is an outdoors cat for most of the day.  When my son's car turns into the block, Chai recognizes the sound instantly--certainly before my wife or I do.  As my son parks his car, Chai walks over to greet him--even when my son must park a few houses away from ours.  Chai hears the sound (the second skhanda) and recognizes the source--The ability to identify the source of a sensation is the definition of the third skandha.  It requires a much more evolved nervous system than that of a starfish.   (The classic example is when one knows that the sound of a bell comes from a bell.)
The third skandha occurs on a much higher branch on the tree of life, but, as you might have surmised, we haven't reach the treetop yet.

4. The Fourth Skandha, Samskara, Mental Formations.

The difference in complexity of the fourth skandha from all previous ones is tremendous. I like to imagine a brief silence as life passes from the third to the fourth skandha.  I picture it in musical notation: it lasts one measure; it is in common time, that is, four beats to a measure.  The measure consists almost entirely of rests, that is, of silence; there is no sound except for a quick note (a sixteenth note) at the very end of the measure, after which comes a long note in the next measure, which is anything but silent.  During this sixteenth note, Adam eats the forbidden fruit.  He subsequently and suddenly finds himself in the next measure, the realm of the fourth skandha.  He  now knows the difference between good and evil, because an "I" has arisen within him, giving the first human the absolute conviction that he is an individual separate from the rest of the world.  The Western myth is extraordinarily perceptive here:  Adam and Eve realize they are naked and, also for the first time, feel ashamed.  Now they can recognize their image reflected in a stream.  Now they can give each other names and name things they see and thoughts they think of.  In actual evolution, of course, there is no disobedience, no command, no God. The transition occurs when the development of the nervous system has become complex enough that the brain can imagine that it, along with the organism in which it dwells, is a separate soul or individual.  The Western myth continues with a curse on Adam--men will now have to labor hard to survive, and a curse on Eve--women from now on will have painful labor while giving birth.  This is not exactly true; animals have to struggle to survive and an animal's pregnancy can be just as painful as a human one.  But if one reads between the lines, one realizes that the author of the creation myth was getting at a deeper truth.  The innocence of the animal kingdom has been lost forever; human beings now feel pain and know it. A new intensity of pain has arisen: suffering.  (Suffering equals  pain as experienced by an individual.  Animals can feel great pain, but no suffering.  There are some exceptions to this, but they are exceptions that prove the rule.  An elephant may be evolved enough to experience a slight degree of suffering.  This means that the elephant has only eaten a tiny part of the fruit, while Adam and Eve have consumed the whole thing.)
We must note that the fourth skandha results from neurological complexity, not by the addition of any element. All the elements in the human brain can be found in the outside world, albeit in very different concentrations.

The fourth skandha arose perhaps by chance, but it was naturally "selected" by our unconscious genes, since it conferred tremendous biologic advantages.  Our unconscious genes do not work by chance; mutations that give an organism better opportunities for survival are passed on by the inexorable laws of genetics.
Although Genesis views the loss of animal innocence in a negative light, a sense of individuality has allowed homo sapiens to improve their lives in unprecedented ways. True, there is a price to be paid for everything; few of us, however, would want to give up civilized life, lose language and law, for a precarious return to a life among creatures red in tooth and claw.  The results of civilization, in my view, are mostly golden, but can be leaden.  It has given us Mozart; it has given us Hitler.  Man can now periodically withdraw from daily activities in order to think, plan and invent. He is no longer dependent exclusively on sense data; he can imagine new worlds.  He is now free to invent  tools and gods, and, after technology has advanced sufficiently, he can develop new software, create and test a new vaccine, build bridges, rockets, make exquisite wines, and, alas! more destructive bombs.

If you want examples of the fourth skandha, simply think something and write it down.  "I am hungry;" "Seattle is a nice place in which  to live;" "I hope the Tea Party candidate loses;" "God loves us just the way we are;" "You really look beautiful tonight;" "Quantum particles can be in two places at once"--All these are examples of the fourth skandha.

5. The Fifth Skandha, Vijñana, Consciousness

In our evolutionary interpretation, the fifth skandha is the greatest transition of all, taking us to the very summit of existence and beyond.  It is, however, quite subtle.  Many people live entirely in the realm of the fourth skandha, which Hindus refer to as samsara, the wheel of birth and death.  This realm contains occasional, sometimes perhaps even frequent, joys, but also much suffering.  Many humans are only dimly aware that the fifth skandha exists; many well educated people assert that those who claim they have experienced the fifth skandha are guilty of wishful thinking.
As stated earlier, according to the earliest Buddhist teaching, the fifth skandha indicates "that which cognizes"--the illusory self, an aggregate.  But illusion seems to me to exist completely in the realm of the fourth skandha.  I was pleased to learn that certain later schools in the Mahayana tradition saw things differently, and, I believe, more accurately: they considered  fifth-skandha consciousness to be  the base that supports all experience. In addition, the great Tibetan meditation master, Chögyam Trungpa Rinpoche, (1939-1987), had this to say about the fifth skandha: "It is the final developed state of being that contains all the previous elements"--that is, it subsumes the four previous skandhas.  These are very deep insights.  This interpretation is in complete accord with advaita Hinduism, the non-dualistic view embodied and taught by the great sage of the twentieth century, Ramana Maharshi.  Though he did not call it a skandha, he knew what this transcendent consciousness is; he taught it, he lived it perfectly.  It is thus best to finish this essay with a few words about Ramana Maharshi, including  a few of the sage's sayings about this self, this consciousness, which is the basis of everything,

Ramana Maharshi (1889-1950), lived in perfect accord with what he taught; once one identifies with one's true self--what we refer to as the fifth skandha--all problems cease.  After an encounter with death at an early age, he became convinced that his--and everyone's--true identity is the transcendent self, the I behind the I.  After this encounter, he lost all fear of death, and always remained one with the Self.  There are many illustrations of this that occurred during his lifetime.  He was never selfish, and, after a second near-death experience in his 30s. became a very accessible teacher, devoted to seekers from all over the world.  Even while in pain, dying from cancer, he insisted that he must give "dharshan" to the very end, that it, making himself available to those who sought out his presence.  He refused any special treatment.  He always insisted that all guests be fed before he would eat.  The emphasis was always on simplicity.  Never could one find the slightest shred of vanity or anger in him.  When he lay dying, he was asked if he suffered.  "There is pain, he said, "but no suffering"--there was no longer an ego able to lament.  If you are not familiar with Ramana Maharshi, I suggest you do some research online and, perhaps, purchase or download some of the many excellent books available at sriramanamaharshi.org.

I will end this essay with two quotes from the sage, which illustrate his perfect identity with the fifth skandha:

First Quote

To him who is one with the formless Self, everything is formless.  Existence of the world is merely relative.  The world is merely relative.  The world is really synonymous with the mind.  Since it is knowledge that illumines the world, the former is ulterior to the latter.  That Knowledge alone is real which ever remains changeless.  Worship under name and form is only a means to realize one's absolute identity with the Nameless and Formless.

That consciousness creates the world is not new in Hinduism.  In the West, the creative power of consciousness played a dominant role in the philosophy of George Berkeley, (1695-1753), but it was not until the advent of quantum theory when this view became contemporary again, at least among some physicists..  Here is a quote from Andrei Linde, one of the founders of the inflationary universe:

For me as a human being, I do not know any sense in which I could claim that the universe is here in the absence of observers.  We are together, the universe and us.  The moment you say that the universe exists without any observers, I cannot make any sense of that.

This is what Michio Kaku in his book "Parallel World" has to say about Linde:

According to Linde's philosophy, dinosaur fossils don't really exist until you look at them.  But when you do look at them, they spring into existence as if they had existed millions of years ago.  Physicists who hold to this point of view are careful to point out that the picture is experimentally consistent with a world in which dinosaur fossils really are millions of years old.

                                                          --Parallel Worlds, page 166

Perhaps the most startling example of the creative power of observation is a recent theory of the origin of the universe.  Stephen Hawking, one of the most prominent contemporary cosmologists, along with a colleague, Thomas Hertog, published a paper in 2006 entitled, "Populating the Landscape: A Top Down Approach."  In this article he postulates that the universe did not have a single, defined beginning; all possibilities were present together in a quantum fuzz.  This he calls the "no boundary" state.  He writes, "The no boundary histories of the universe...depend on what is being observed, contrary to the usual idea that the universe has a unique observer-independent history." If Ramana Maharshi had heard of this theory, he would have undoubtedly nodded his head in agreement while smiling a fifth-skandha smile.

One must note here that the observation that creates the universe has nothing to do with volition.  A Darwinian I is unable to fashion the world according to his will.  Volition is the realm of the fourth skandha, not of the fifth.

The universe at its most simple, the quantum world, and the universe at its most complex, human consciousness, is indeed very, very strange.  One of the most important physicists of modern times, Richard Feynman, stated that at one time only a few scientists understood Einstein's theorems.  He is sure, however, that to this day nobody understands what is "really" going on in the quantum world.  I find it naive when some scientists assert that one day we will have a complete materialistic understanding of consciousness.  (It remains a profound mystery today.)  I agree, however, with Niels Bohr, who asserted that its essence will never be completely understood.. .  If we can't understand the universe at its simplest level,  he asserted, how can we ever hope to understand it at its most complex level?  In other words, how can the fourth skandha ever comprehend the fifth?

If consciousness is everything, we now can view the skandhas as a loop, as asserted by the Tibetan sage mentioned previously.  The first skhanda gives rise to the other four in an forward direction; the fifth skandha gives rise to the other four in a backward direction.  Since the fifth skandha is the creative force, however, it is actually the basis of all.

The universe is weird; consciousness is even weirder.



Second Quote

A figure on the screen in the cinema show appears to watch the whole world.  What is the reality behind the subject and the object in the same show?  An illusory being watches an illusory world. You and the world are as real as the cinema figure and the cinema world.

All the previous skandhas are ultimately illusory.  Notice this screen metaphor of Ramana Maharshi is virtually identical to the Mahayana interpretation mentioned earlier.  This is truly the perennial philosophy.

I will end with a warning; this is not mystical mumbo-jumbo, it is reality.  It does not require that one view everything as an illusion,  The fourth skandha, the level of what I call the Darwinian I, is very powerful.  Very few, like Ramana Maharshi, are able to abandon it.  Most of us, including myself, don't even want to if they could.  But an experience of utter transcendence from time to time helps us to live better in time.  Knowing that we are like actors in a cosmic play can help us to take ourselves less seriously and to take the other members of the cast more seriously  As Hindu sages have taught from time immemorial, wisdom and love are ultimately one and the same.  Experiencing wisdom, the realm of the fifth skandha, can help us become better and kinder actors, whatever our role is in the play.

We at the level of the fourth skandha who have periodic glimpses of the fifth, should take ourselves seriously, but not too--the fifth skandha puts everything into perspective.  We must not and need not abandon everything to live exclusively in the fifth skandha, for we have a role to fulfill in this life. (If it were our destiny to live permanently in the realm of cosmic consciousness, the transition would occur naturally and not by an act of will.)  We must be grateful for the rare embodiment of wisdom such as Ramana Maharshi; our chances of becoming an avatar of wisdom, however, is as likely as an average kid has to become Mozart.  All it takes is practice? I doubt that.  Inspired by great musicians, however, most of us can learn to play an instrument at least tolerably, if we put our mind to it; most of us, inspired by wise teachers, can become better actors, even deserving an ovation (from fellow actors in the audience)  when we leave the stage.

Tat tvam asi--You are the world.  Act like it!

Bonjour! Au Revoir! (And, By the Way, I Hate You.)

1.
Having recently returned from France--I enjoyed my stay very much--I found myself trying to maintain a French ambience by reading books in French.  (I certainly couldn't recapture my joie de vivre by eating à la américaine.)   Having finished La Petite Fadette by Georges Sand and Variations Sauvages, by that wonderful wolf-loving French pianist, Hélène Grimaud, I turned to a classic, Madame Bovary.  Toward the end of chapter seven of the first part of the book I came across the following:

Les adieux de la belle-mère et de la bru furent secs.  Pendant les trois semaines qu'elles étaient restées ensemble, elles n'avaient pas échangé quatre paroles, à part les informations et compliments quand elles se recontraient à table, et le soir avant de se mettre au lit.

My translation:

Mother-in-law and daughter-in-law took leave from each other without any sign of affection.  During the three weeks they were together, they hardly spoke a word to one another, except for formalities before meals and before going to bed.

There it is, I said, smiling to myself.  In two sentences, a striking difference between French and American cultures becomes apparent.  French etiquette demands a modicum of politeness--at least in speech--even if you can't stand the person you're talking to. (Yes, I translated "informations et compliments" freely.  I feel justified in translating them the way I did, since they obviously refer to words demanded by French etiquette. You can be sure that this included saying the inevitable bonjour to each other when they met in the morning, and the equally inevitable bonne nuit to each other before bed.  The very French Emma Bovary might well have asked her mother-in-law such things as whether she had slept well the night before, even though she couldn't have cared less.

We Americans emphasize sincerity; we like to mean what we say.  (This essay will do its best not to take sides.)  I would like to illustrate this  formality vs. sincerity difference with an American example.  Some time ago, my wife and I spent a few days with friends.  My friend's mother-in-law, much like Madame Bovary senior, was in the midst of a three-week visit.  She was basically a nice person, but was also frequently  difficult and demanding.  It was obvious that the daughter-in-law hated her.  The house was small resulting in frequent encounters between them both.  During our entire stay, however, the daughter-in-law, otherwise gregarious, refused to say a single word to her husband's mother.  In fact, she completely ignored her presence.  No good day, no good night, no excuse me while passing her on the narrow stairs.  My wife and I felt embarrassed; we did our best to communicate with both.

I do think a few equivalents of bonjour and au revoir would have helped lower the tension.

In France, one says bonjour to everyone--the bus driver, the salesperson, the mechanic, the law professor, the doctor.  It is a way of acknowledging people; it's a way of saying you're a person just like me and vice versa.  Obviously, having to say bonjour so many times a day can weaken the meaning of this obligatory salutation.  But it does have meaning.  I know I feel better when I smile and exchange greetings with say, a baker, grocery clerk or with anyone else I encounter.  It is especially important in our over-individualistic society to formally acknowledge another person's existence with a salutation and a smile  That's  the French way, vive la France!

2,
Americans have the reputation of being less formal and more friendly.  It is said that's it's harder to get to know a Frenchman or a German.  There might be some truth to this.  I must say, for the most part, I like the down-home friendliness of many Americans.  It's usually not a facade; when Americans act friendly they are not usually acting.    Some might have a supercilious reaction to what I call American howdyness--I don't agree, however, with a prevalent European view which asserts that American demonstrations of friendliness are too frequently superficial, although, admittedly, they sometimes are.   (The problem is that not everyone is friendly; the custom of saying bonjour is especially important for grumps.)

I will give you a great example of American friendliness, a little poem written by one of America's greatest poets, Walt Whitman:

Stranger! if you, passing, meet me,
and desire to speak to me,
why should you not speak to me?
And why should I not speak to you?

American openness at its very best!  I cannot imagine a European ever writing something like this.  Walt Whitman practiced what he wrote--he was genuinely interested in people, whether one was a great writer or a driver of a street car.  He was gracious to all and made friends with people of all classes--something which is unfortunately rare these days.  Inspired by Whitman, I have tried to put this poem into action.  I have had delightful encounters with people in parking lots, grocery stores, theatres, etc.  I remember most of them very well, proving that the experiences were quite pleasurable. I must say, I've had less luck with this strategy in France. (Some of this is undoubtedly due to the fact that my English is much better than my French.)

The ideal, of course, is to be like Walt Whitman.  One would then not only love personal encounters, but would also show one's joy to the other person.  If we were all Walt Whitmans, we perhaps could dispense with the obligatory bonjour and other such formalities, since our whole being would be conveying bonjour, as it were, without having to say a word.   The problem, of course, is that we're not all Walt Whitmans.

3.  
Just as French politeness may on occasion be insincere, American friendliness may be everything but. I will give but one example.  I often get telephone calls from people who want to sell me something.  When I pick up the receiver, there is often a pause--presumably until my name comes up on the caller's computer screen.  Then the caller says, in an overly friendly voice, "Hello, Tom, how are you doing today!"  This from a total stranger!  My reaction to this is very French; before hanging up, I feel like saying a good deal more than bonjour.

4.
I wrote this little essay on July 4th, the American national holiday.  It has been a beautiful day; clear blue skies--almost the deep blue of Provence--accompanied by gentle breezes and low humidity--a perfect day!  While halfway through writing this, my wife took my hand and asked me to turn off the computer.  Today it is just too lovely to stay indoors, she said; let's go for a walk.  I agreed wholeheartedly.

We are lucky to live in a city with many cultural attractions, yet only a few minutes drive from forest trails.  Since it was the Fourth of July and most people were enjoying barbecues, we expected that our favorite trail wouldn't be crowded, which proved to be correct. Still, I knew there would be some passers-by, and I was ready.  (I tell people that we all can't be C.E.O.s--some of us, like me, wouldn't even want to be one--but we can all be C.P.E.s--that is, Creators of Pleasanter Encounters.)  As we crossed a little wooden bridge that leads up to a path flanked by maples and oaks in full summer splendor, I noticed a woman with a dog on a leash approaching us.  I gave her a full smile and said, with gusto, Hello!  She looked at me and passed by as if I hadn't been there.  Maybe she's having a bad day, I thought to myself.  Fifteen or so minutes later, I had my next encounter, this time with a man about my age.  Again I smiled and said hello.  The man smiled and greeted me back.  The third encounter was even better.  The woman we passed replied to my greeting with such a beautiful smile that it remains vividly in my mind's eye even now. Two out of three, not bad!

Dear reader, I trust that you know by now what I'm getting at.  No matter where one comes from, acknowledging  people and meaning it is a very winsome combination. How can one doubt that combining French politesse with American howdyness would help create a better, more civilized world?  After reading this essay,  I hope you resolve to be the best C.P.E. ever.

Have a great day! Au revoir!

BURWELL VS. HOBBY LOBBY

Cheer up, says my inner Pollyanna, this is not the worst.  It's not nearly as bad as the Dread Scott decision, which declared certain human beings to be nothing more than chattel.

True, the still small voice of conscience replies, but you're setting the bar very low.  Should we tolerate the bad simply because it's a lot less evil than something else?

My conscience is convinced that the 5-4 Supreme Court decision of June 30, 2014, which grants  Hobby Lobby an exemption from providing certain forms of contraception sets a very bad precedent.  It will now proceed to tell you why.

The conclusion of the Court had not as much to do with the First Amendment as it did with The Religious Freedom Restoration Act of 1993, passed under the Clinton administration with nearly unanimous support from both Democrats and Republicans.  It was passed specifically to prevent prosecution of groups of Native Americans which use the otherwise illicit drug, peyote, during religious rituals. It is important to note that all Supreme Court rulings set precedents that are frequently abused.  Convicts sued, for instance, on the basis of this law, that their sincerely held religious beliefs demanded that they have a steak dinner once a week.  A Quaker woman sued under this law to be exempt from income tax, since a good part of it is used for military purposes.  Many frivolous lawsuits were challenged at taxpayers' expense.  Thanks to Burwell vs Hobby Lobby, there will undoubtedly be more such cases.

My conscience will now provide four reasons why this decision is very bad.  The list is not meant to be exhaustive.

1.  Sincerely Held Religious Beliefs

The Court upheld that "closely held for profit corporations" are not required to provide contraception under the Affordable Care Act if doing so violates "sincerely held religious beliefs" (Justice Kennedy.)  Do we really want the justices on the Supreme Court to decide which religious beliefs are sincere and which are not?  I think not.  As mentioned previously, rulings set precedents--there are surely to be challenges to extend "religious freedom" beyond family-owned businesses and to grant exceptions for more than contraception.  What if a family-owned business of faith-healers decides not to cover antibiotics?  The possibilities for abuse are legion!

2. Accommodation Can Go Too Far

America has a long and (mostly) admirable tradition of accommodating religious beliefs.  I will give you a good example from my experience in pediatrics.  I was once involved in testifying against a group called "Dissatisfied Parents Together (DPT)," which held the erroneous belief that vaccines were the cause of much misery while, in fact, they prevent it.  I am a pediatrician and will let you in on a dirty--actually clean--little secret.  Maryland, the state in which I practice, allowed exemptions from vaccines only for members of religions whose teachings specifically forbade vaccination.  (At that time, there were only two.)  Advocates for religious freedom considered the law to be too restrictive; it was overturned.  Now, anyone who has a "bona fide religious conviction" that vaccines are wrong can get an exemption even if they don't belong to any specific denomination.  Here's the secret: we don't tell our patients that.  The schools exclude those whose shots are delinquent. We don't tell them about the easy exemption; if we did and it became popular, children would suffer terribly.  When I trained in medicine in the early seventies, crippling and fatal cases of meningitis were commonplace.  Thanks to vaccines, they are now extremely rare.  If the "religious" exemption were frequently used, decency would demand that this loophole be closed.

We doctors, for the most part, are only against religious freedom when it interferes with the common good. Imposing the Hobby Lobby's parochial beliefs on others certainly doesn't foster the common good.  Let me give you an example.  A diabetic woman, unable to use regular contraceptives, is prescribed an I.U.D by her doctor.  It is denied.  She gets pregnant and dies from complications of  diabetes.  This could happen!

Should we expand accommodation for religious beliefs to include imposing those beliefs on others when they might cause great harm? I think not.

3.  When Religious Beliefs are Rigid, Should Accommodation be Soft?

Contrary to what many think, the Hobby Lobby, run by a fundamentalist Christian family, does not oppose all forms of contraception.  They are vehemently opposed to abortion.  They believe that intrauterine devices and the morning after pill induce abortion.  Science disagrees.  Pregnancy begins when the fertilized egg become implanted in the womb, not before.  The owners of Hobby Lobby assert, presumably--and correctly--that fertilization occurs before implantation.  Yet fertilized eggs can exist in a Petri Dish as well as in the fallopian tubes--Pregnancy, therefore, begins with implantation.

The Hobby Lobby family claims that their refusal is a form of, in their words, Standing Up for Jesus Christ.  This implies that virtually all scientists are Sitting Down Against Him.  This is nonsense.  Life is sometimes quite ambiguous, whether one likes it or not.  Shouldn't the Hobby Lobby family be sufficiently humble--a religious virtue--to consider that they might be wrong when so many good people--including good, religious people--are convinced they are?  Self-righteous rigidity--is this what true religion is about?

Again, should the law accommodate this rigidity when it can cause great harm?  Again, I think not.

4. The Poor Are Hit the Hardest

If contraception--Catholic bishops think virtually forms of contraception are evil--are not covered, it is the poor who will suffer the most.  The rich will always be able to obtain all forms of birth control.  Contraception, of course,  prevents unwanted pregnancies which otherwise might lead to abortion.  The poor are having increasing difficulties obtaining abortions in certain states.  The rich can always take a trip North!  Is this fair?

All right, it's not the Dread Scott case.  Yet it's right for conscience to stand up for the common good and  to dread its outcome--What's wrong with that gang of five?