Beauty in the macabre
Death, as scary as it is, is a natural part of life. From young ages we are taught about death, how it's tragic and awful and results in missing someone fully. However, in some cultures, we are taught to respect and revere the dead, that just because someone is dead doesn’t mean they are gone.
Image Courtesy: Instagram
My first experience with the beauty of death is when my mom brought me to one of the big Catholic churches in New York City. Some distant family member of mine who lived in Italy passed away, and we were there to light candles for her. I stared up at the high ceilings, the spires, the gargoyles as my mom kneeled over a wall of candles, some half-melted, some brand new. In catholicism, lighting a candle for the deceased supposedly represents allowing them to follow the light of Christ. In other cultures, there are whole days dedicated to the celebration of death. In Mexico, this holiday is called “Día de los Muertos” where people “leave food or other offerings on their loved ones’ graves, or set them out on makeshift altars called ofrendas in their homes.” Similarly, there is 清明节, or Qingming Jie, which comes from China. This is a cultural day of observation where families clean their ancestors’ tombs in order to usher in good fortune in the coming year. This includes not only “weeding of the area, cleaning of the headstone, and replacing the wilted flowers with fresh ones, but also the lighting of incense and burning of imitation paper money.” Burning the paper money allows the dead to use it in the afterlife, allowing them wealth even in death.
The beauty of death is not only cultural or religious, though. It is also found in the mundane, in day-to-day life. People who wear the ring of their deceased grandma or those who wear the favorite color of their dead friend. Every person is a walking memorial to those they’ve lost because love does not end in death.
One of my favorite examples of this is the mourning practices of the Victorians. They were amongst the first to create this idea of memento mori, or “remember death.” They had lockets or brooches made with locks of hair of those who had died, as well as including images of them. As photography was a new thing around this time, and it required its subjects to remain completely still, death photography was the most popular practice, as it allowed for the subject to be seen without any distortion to the image because of movement. Then of course there are more morbid mementos such as death masks. This practice did not start in the Victorian era but found its heyday there. These masks started as artistic renditions of the person’s face, eventually transitioning to actual molds of the deceased. It was rumored that these masks warded off evil spirits and helped the dead navigate the afterlife, but they are more commonly considered ways to remember the person who was lost.
Image Courtesy: Instagram
Then, of course, there’s people like me. People who remember their lost loved ones through art: poetry, music, painting, you name it. It is only through our art that we suffer and grieve because without it we would be emotionless, empty husks just floating on this rock in the middle of space. I create because it's an outlet, but I also create because it allows me to feel. Death is scary, death’s iconography can be scary, but we do not have to be isolated in it. We can surround ourselves with objects that remind us of that beauty, and make our homes like the Halloween section of Michaels just to feel something. Because why bother fearing what is natural? And why bother worrying about what's to come when we know, at the end of the day, there will be people left to mourn us in some way, shape, or form.
Maybe I’m weird, but then all the cultures around me who love, care, and revere the dead would be weird as well.
Strike Out,
E Dunsmuir
St. Augustine
Editor: Maya Kayyal and Jaden Rudd
E Dunsmuir (he/they) is a writer for Strike St. Augustine. He loves Victorian England, emo music, and anything to do with horror, so don’t be surprised when these things pop up in an article. When they're not writing for Strike, he’s probably texting his boyfriend or watching TV with their roommates. You can reach him at edunsmuir66@gmail.com or @edunsmuir66 on most social media platforms.
