After a change of flight, then a three hour delay, which preceded missing a connecting flight (Iberia aren´t on my Crimbo card list at this moment in time FYI), succeeded by a delay in the replacement connection, I am at long last HERE in Pamplona. So, all in all, quite a smooth passage onto the beginning of my pilgrimage. That´s not to mention the flight attendant´s arse I accidentally nustled against; or some overzealous security guards. If I had to describe the experience in one word thus far, I´d opt for ´eventful´. Which is precisely what I wanted, so it´s optimism all the way; inevitably my conviction and enthusiasm will be tested, but let´s cross that bridge when I come to it!
I really wanted to immerse myself in an alien culture and a nomadic, rambling way of life, which hopefully I´ll be able to achieve. Regardless, I brought along a book by one of my favourite authors, the Brazilian writer Paulo Coelho; most will know the name in relation to ´The Alchemist´, his scarily successful tale of a young shepherd searching for true love, not to mention enlightenment. Naturally it does include an element of alchemy, but don´t let the thought of lunatics trying to transform urine into solid gold put you off; it´s a great read.
The book I´ve brought along with me is, quite appropriately, entitled ´The Pilgrimage´and, you´ve guessed it, details Coelho´s path along the route I´m taking too. Although some of it is slightly fictionalised/highly sensationalised depending on your opinion, one particular section suggests an intriguing proposition on humankind. Not only that; it´s quite unsettling too.
Take the following (abbreviated, thank God) passage:
´When the son of God descended to Earth, he brought love to us. But since people identified love with suffering and sacrifice, they felt obliged to crucify Jesus. Had they not done so, no one would have believed in the love that Jesus brought, since people were so used to suffering everyday with their own problems. Do you know what Barabbas means? Bar means son, and abba means father. When Pontius Pilate made the people choose, he actually gave them no choice. He presented them with one man who had been whipped and falling apart, and he presented them with another man who held his head high- Barabbas, the revolutionary. God knew that the people would put the weaker one to death so that he could prove his love. Regardless of which choice they made, it was the son of God who was going to be crucified.´
My interpretation of this is that the passage implies human beings too often love in a cruel, ironic way. That, because we are afraid inside, of the world, of each other and most crucially of ourselves, we reject and ridicule those people and things which love openly. In addition, that most of us will always ultimately love most that which we condemn: ´regardless of which choice they made, it was the son of God who was going to be crucified´.
Anyway, nuff nuff of all that. It´s late, Eurovision is on and I want to be mesmerised by cheeky Europop and Jedward´s crazy hair. Besides, there´s softcore pornography on the other channel for afters... Which is just as humorous and arousing.
No comments:
Post a Comment