The is excerpt from a book I re-began after Hurricane Katrina. It
focuses on Erzulie Freda Dahomey and the tears those possessed by her
often shed. New Orleans Voodoo often sees the functions of all of the
Erzulies enfolded within Ms. Dahomey. She is a very large loa to
us.
The excerpt is interesting to me because it brings up the possibility
(inevitability?) of the loa and, by extension, all God/desses
dying. One of the (few) benefits of being away from New Orleans
is that I can spend a lot of time with Tibetan refugees. They, in
one of their more irritating moments, brought this idea up. The
quoted section is short but I have thought long on this. It is so
odd for me to imagine a loa / god/dess as a migratory being. This is
Legba today; in the some yesterdays he was_______ , in the some
tomorrows he will be ___________.
It is so easy for me to say this about myself. It feels right; perhaps
by habit. But the loa dying? I am unaccustomed to such thought.
2. Time
‘’ ‘’
Within the womb of Erzulie the homulici of all forms and events swim.
Time collides with eternity shattering all illusions of perfection.
Erzulie cries at the spilt face powder, at the spilt food, at the spilt
blood, and at the spilt lives. The pristine napkin must be soiled
if put to use. Erzulie stands poised at this moment of disaffection.
Infinite possibilities give rise to infinite desires. To see, to be
able to imagine so much beauty and to be bound by time’s limitations
leaves the eyes and heart overflowing with sadness. Infinite
possibilities can only be realized within eternity. Only eternity can
loosen the bounds of time and time sits heavily upon the head of
Erzulie. The loa will pass into other states; as we, this world, this
universe will pass into other states.
New loa are always being born. Ah! That is so easy to accept. That old
loa will die; that is not quite as palatable. There is a mysterie here
for me. I have seen the birth of new loa but I have never witnessed a
loa die. Perhaps such a death occurs when no being in the Visible World
remembers the loas name; forgotten the umbilical cord to the Visible
World is severed, the loa tumbles into oblivion to rise again as a pain
of ragged claws scuttling on something or other. It is impossible for
me or anyone else to both witness and forget at the same time;
therefore no one could witness a loa die. There is no way to know the
number of loa who have passed.
The perfection which Erzulie seeks does not have the room to grow, and
play, and prosper within times limited scope. Time’s fabric is woven
from a series of beginnings and endings. Beauty is born and fades in
these beginnings and endings. Perfection flowers and then falls from
the grasp. Beauty is spilt; perfection is soiled within times' stifling
embrace.
"Eternity," instead of "time," and "infinity," in place of "space" are
the twins whom she strives to birth and enfold in a perfect embrace.
All things issue from her womb but all things quickly flicker and
extinguish themselves, mired in the hopeless prison of time/space.
