Our monstrous humanity
- by Rachel Davidson
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- 03 Feb, 2020
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definitions of evil, lovelessness, redemption and character choices...
I finished reading a book the other day – a monstrous, hideous retelling of how humanity can be capable of terrible cruelty and evilness, how these acts can be made so much worse when carried out with the casual entitlement that so many indulge in. It wasn’t an act of fiction; it was a true story of a real person’s experience here on earth.
It gave me pause for thought – and in that space, I remembered something that I had been told when I was twelve years old.
I had just started secondary school and was in my first art class. I felt comfortable doing art, almost as much as I felt safe writing stories. I remember the peculiar narrowness of the art room, different from every other classroom in the building and feeling how ‘correct’ it was that art got taught in such an anomalous place. The first assignment was announced; we were asked to draw a monster.
I recall placing my concentration upon the paper, pencil in hand, primary paint colours pending, intent upon constructing the most outlandish creature possible. I remember this simply because of what the teacher said next:
“If you want the monster to be truly scary then you should consider making it look as human as possible.”
Why should it be so? That the image would be made more monstrous if it resembled what I was, what we all are; human.
Is this how evil persists? Is it the perfect disguise? Hiding behind faces of normal looking people. If evil did appear on the streets like the stereotypical horned darkness then it would certainly be much easier to recognise it, see its influence, move away from it – or even confront it. Is this why, our world is constructed so subtly, such that monsters may appear to be just the same as you and I?
Perhaps it is made deliberately subtle - because we are supposed to work to improve our skills of perception and insight, work that would not be necessary, and the learning not so valuable, if the world were constructed of obvious ‘good’ guys and obvious ‘bad’ guys?
The Magus of Strovolos, in the book of the same name, describes a fascinating perspective upon Evil. Detailing his great and prodigious spiritual healing and teachings, the book features one chapter on Possession. The Magus states that “one should not be hostile and narrow-minded with these [evil] beings… Demons also know how to love”.
I believe that is a surprising viewpoint for most who first hear it.
The Magus goes on to describe a belief that even demons may evolve into the Holy Spirit, that evolution to higher, loving vibrations is entirely possible for these beings. In conversation with another, he explains; “The work of the angel in the plant and animal kingdom, and in man, is to create blindly and beautifully, through the holy spirit, cells and tissues and to assist in cures. The demon on the other hand does everything that man does.” The conversation finishes with a declaration that seems meaningful to me, “so a demon is much more human than an angel.”
Perhaps this is the fundamental truth that my art teacher inadvertently set me seeking to understand more about. Perhaps this is why we recognise that monsters appear so much more monstrous if they reflect our humanity back at us. Our bad choices, our thoughtlessness and greed. Our laziness and conceit. These are, after all, aspects that exist in every one of us.
I don’t remember what sort of monster I drew on that day in art-class all those years ago. Many years later, however, I created a character that might have gone someway to pleasing my teacher. That character’s name is Darnell and he is father to the main character in my first book (The Point of Me, Beyond Veils), James, and to his sister, Lyra, the main character in my second book (The Truth of Her, Beyond Veils).
Darnell is a highly successful man by any standards of the western, capitalist world. He has worked with the fierceness of his own will to amass great wealth and power, reaching the top of his chosen profession and having great influence over many others’ lives. Yet, despite all of this he is a dark, disturbed and deeply shadowed individual. He is morally bankrupt and loveless, and his actions within the stories demonstrate his mistrust of love and his fear of everything that comes with opening one’s heart to such emotion.
I don’t think he is that uncommon a character.
But, just as the Magus’ teachings imply, human-life is never so simple as to be starkly “black and white” – Darnell has reasons for deeply mistrusting love. Is it possible for Darnell to evolve and find his way back to love? What might that “love” look like? Is it always benign and gentle, such as maternal love may be, or can it appear as an immolating blaze, cast upon this earth to test humanity’s ability to embrace it? This is what I am exploring as I write the third book in the Beyond Veils series.
P.S. I'm still celebrating last month's 6-month milestone of the publication of my second book, The Truth of Her, Beyond Veils, Book 2. Why not join in my celebrations/give me more to celebrate! If you have finished reading the book - or are getting close to - maybe you would consider letting me, and other potential readers, know what you thought of it by writing up a quick Amazon review (this is the third most helpful thing you can do for my writing career, just behind buying the book and reading the book!). Click here to be taken straight to the Amazon page.
If you feel like letting your friends and family know about your enjoyment of The Truth of Her, then I've taken some of the hassle out of it for you by doing a pre-prepared Facebook and Twitter post for you! Just click on those links.
(all book/audiobook links in this post are affiliate links, meaning that if you click on them and then go on to buy, I will get a few more pennies to add to my sales royalties. The price to you remains the same though).
It gave me pause for thought – and in that space, I remembered something that I had been told when I was twelve years old.
I had just started secondary school and was in my first art class. I felt comfortable doing art, almost as much as I felt safe writing stories. I remember the peculiar narrowness of the art room, different from every other classroom in the building and feeling how ‘correct’ it was that art got taught in such an anomalous place. The first assignment was announced; we were asked to draw a monster.
I recall placing my concentration upon the paper, pencil in hand, primary paint colours pending, intent upon constructing the most outlandish creature possible. I remember this simply because of what the teacher said next:
“If you want the monster to be truly scary then you should consider making it look as human as possible.”
Why should it be so? That the image would be made more monstrous if it resembled what I was, what we all are; human.
Is this how evil persists? Is it the perfect disguise? Hiding behind faces of normal looking people. If evil did appear on the streets like the stereotypical horned darkness then it would certainly be much easier to recognise it, see its influence, move away from it – or even confront it. Is this why, our world is constructed so subtly, such that monsters may appear to be just the same as you and I?
Perhaps it is made deliberately subtle - because we are supposed to work to improve our skills of perception and insight, work that would not be necessary, and the learning not so valuable, if the world were constructed of obvious ‘good’ guys and obvious ‘bad’ guys?
The Magus of Strovolos, in the book of the same name, describes a fascinating perspective upon Evil. Detailing his great and prodigious spiritual healing and teachings, the book features one chapter on Possession. The Magus states that “one should not be hostile and narrow-minded with these [evil] beings… Demons also know how to love”.
I believe that is a surprising viewpoint for most who first hear it.
The Magus goes on to describe a belief that even demons may evolve into the Holy Spirit, that evolution to higher, loving vibrations is entirely possible for these beings. In conversation with another, he explains; “The work of the angel in the plant and animal kingdom, and in man, is to create blindly and beautifully, through the holy spirit, cells and tissues and to assist in cures. The demon on the other hand does everything that man does.” The conversation finishes with a declaration that seems meaningful to me, “so a demon is much more human than an angel.”
Perhaps this is the fundamental truth that my art teacher inadvertently set me seeking to understand more about. Perhaps this is why we recognise that monsters appear so much more monstrous if they reflect our humanity back at us. Our bad choices, our thoughtlessness and greed. Our laziness and conceit. These are, after all, aspects that exist in every one of us.
I don’t remember what sort of monster I drew on that day in art-class all those years ago. Many years later, however, I created a character that might have gone someway to pleasing my teacher. That character’s name is Darnell and he is father to the main character in my first book (The Point of Me, Beyond Veils), James, and to his sister, Lyra, the main character in my second book (The Truth of Her, Beyond Veils).
Darnell is a highly successful man by any standards of the western, capitalist world. He has worked with the fierceness of his own will to amass great wealth and power, reaching the top of his chosen profession and having great influence over many others’ lives. Yet, despite all of this he is a dark, disturbed and deeply shadowed individual. He is morally bankrupt and loveless, and his actions within the stories demonstrate his mistrust of love and his fear of everything that comes with opening one’s heart to such emotion.
I don’t think he is that uncommon a character.
But, just as the Magus’ teachings imply, human-life is never so simple as to be starkly “black and white” – Darnell has reasons for deeply mistrusting love. Is it possible for Darnell to evolve and find his way back to love? What might that “love” look like? Is it always benign and gentle, such as maternal love may be, or can it appear as an immolating blaze, cast upon this earth to test humanity’s ability to embrace it? This is what I am exploring as I write the third book in the Beyond Veils series.
P.S. I'm still celebrating last month's 6-month milestone of the publication of my second book, The Truth of Her, Beyond Veils, Book 2. Why not join in my celebrations/give me more to celebrate! If you have finished reading the book - or are getting close to - maybe you would consider letting me, and other potential readers, know what you thought of it by writing up a quick Amazon review (this is the third most helpful thing you can do for my writing career, just behind buying the book and reading the book!). Click here to be taken straight to the Amazon page.
If you feel like letting your friends and family know about your enjoyment of The Truth of Her, then I've taken some of the hassle out of it for you by doing a pre-prepared Facebook and Twitter post for you! Just click on those links.
(all book/audiobook links in this post are affiliate links, meaning that if you click on them and then go on to buy, I will get a few more pennies to add to my sales royalties. The price to you remains the same though).
