Sunday, 14 January 2018

Embracing the Paranormal




Everyone has had a paranormal experience at least once in their lives – of ‘knowing’ a loved one was in danger or dying, a presentiment of personal danger, a prescient dream foretelling an event to come, a bad feeling about a place later confirmed as the site of a tragedy, even ghost-sightings. There are billions of fans of astrology, for its knack of pin pointing personality traits and providing a context for present and future events. Ditto the I Ching and tarot.
   Despite all of that, when fiction or drama include the paranormal, there’s usually a shame-faced quality which ascribes such beliefs to the mad character, or pushes it into the realm of sci-fi. As if it were too embarrassing to validate a strand of life that exists in the (admittedly largely unspoken) hinterland of most people’s experience. 

   Why are we so reluctant? Or put it the other way round why is the paranormal so resistant to being dragged out into the light of day?

   One culprit is the present delusion that science has all the answers. Rather than following Hamlet’s rebuke that “There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy,” we assume if there’s no explanation for what we experience then it must be bunkum. Which throws us into a double-bind of knowing and not knowing at the same time. Rather than regarding it as science’s failure to grapple with life in its entirety. 

   There is a push back from serious thinkers but only on the periphery.  “The rise of modern science has brought with it increasing acceptance among intellectual elites of a picture of reality that conflicts sharply both with everyday human experience and with beliefs widely shared among the world’s great cultures.”  Edward F Kelly: Beyond Physicalism.
“Theory is all very well, but it doesn’t prevent things from existing.” Freud.
  
 Another complication is that certain paranormal experiences emerge from an area of the mind that is perilously close to the deeper unconscious. Put succinctly by the Christian occultist (white witch) Dion Fortune. “Those strange byways of the mind the psychic shares with the psychotic.” Disentangling what is hallucination and what has a foot in reality is not always simple. Psychics have fewer of the defensive filters that most develop to keep the extraneous noise of the universe at bay, so do live closer to the unconscious. It is both a blessing and a curse, a talent and a burden. Knowing too much and madness where the boundaries of reality are blurred, do sometimes collide. 

   Astrology sits at the most rational end of the ‘paranormal’, as yet unexplained but not depending on intuition, hunches or visions. The cycling of the planets in our solar system as seen from earth, for reasons we don’t understand, dances to the same rhythm as events below. Direct causation is unlikely to be the reason. Synchronicity is a useful word but it only means they happen in parallel. Who knows why?

   This blog was supposed to be about why it is so difficult to put astrology into novels without sounding naff. ‘You’re Scorpio and I’m Aquarius so we’ll never get on’ - sounds sub-sub-chick-lit, even though it has more than a smidgeon of truth to it. I weaselled round it in my crime thriller BY the LIGHT of a LIE by concentrating on the astrology of countries and current events, which has an element of gravitas to it (as well as being my thing). And giving my fearless investigator heroine Tire the ability to understand people before she interviewed them, by having the amplified, in-depth personality reader of their full birth charts. But even I chickened out by making her hobby of astrology covert to protect her serious reputation. 

   As to battle-hardened Herk’s superstitions about birds, all I can say is that the ancient Greeks and Romans would have wholeheartedly agreed with him.  Tiresias, the blind prophet portrayed by Euripedes and Sophocles and later writers, had the gift of ornithomancy – prophecy by the birds. Another of my things but that’s for another day.  


Read my other blogs: on A Paradoxical Life of Writing: Do I Contradict Myself? Novelists Can Be Whistleblowers, Fictional characters who live on, Memory, Books Better Comforters than Parents, Choosing Names, How to cook up a successful novel - joke.  Subscribe above for regular updates on my blog.
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Sunday, 7 January 2018

A paradoxical life of writing



 

“Do I contradict myself?
Very well then I contradict myself;
(I am large, I contain multitudes.)”  Walt Whitman  




I don’t know whether I’m more schizoid than most but I struggle to jam all my opposing interests into a coherent this-is-me whole person. Am I serious or funny? A specialist or a generalist? Can I do a PhD on Art and Trauma while also being a mass-communicating astrologer? I did actually pursue that idea until a Cambridge academic so irritated me with his angels-on-the-head-of-a-pin approach, I gave up. Otto Dix, the painter, couldn’t be included because I didn’t speak German etc. Though maybe he’d discovered I was a disreputable stargazer and sprinkled a few landmines around to deter me. Successfully as it turned out.

  Life would have done it anyway. As soon as I decide to head one way, my internal see-saw flips me off in a different direction. Part of me looks with envy on those who found their vocation as teenagers, had their talent nurtured and sailed into their true calling for fifty fulfilling years of – - doing the same thing. Couldn’t hack it. 
   That slice of me thinks I shouldn’t have allowed myself to be diverted from an early ambition of writing novels, firstly by a father who said ‘get a proper job’ and later by an evangelical therapist propelling me into a professional training. Not that journalism and delving into Jung, Freud, Klein and their ilk wasn’t all grist to the mill, building up a storehouse of useful knowledge. And if I had starved in a garret being creative, wouldn’t I have run out of ideas for novel after novel over the years? 
   To be fair to my gestalt self (whole greater than sum of parts) I've always written no matter what job I was in - factual journalism, television scripts, psychology treatise, astro-wisdom, political blog . Words define my identity, I suppose, just across a wider span of subjects than most.

    One of Carl Jung’s favourite notions, lifted from the physicist Nils Bohr was that “defining an event requires two entirely opposing and contradictory views of it, both of which are true”. Jung psychologised that into ‘me and my shadow’, the conscious and the unconscious. You don’t get one without the other. I am me and the exact opposite. Intriguing theory but I’m not big on personal sin, despite being immersed in crime these days, and regard it as one of the oddities of Christianity. Ramakrishna, the Indian mystic, thought it bizarre as well. You become what you think, he reckoned. Think about sin too much and you’ll head straight for it. Perhaps I can embrace being a contradiction that doesn’t require self-flagellation.

   Paradoxes have always fascinated me perhaps for the above reasons - that which is true and not true at the same time, of which Oscar Wilde and Bernard Shaw are literary masters.
“We live in an age when unnecessary things are our only necessities.” ― Oscar Wilde
“There are two tragedies in life. One is to lose your heart's desire. The other is to gain it.” ― George Bernard Shaw.

  Some are destined to plough the same furrow in life. I’m more of a migratory bird, flitting here and there, at home in many regions. Writing novels in my seasoned years may give me a canvas on which to pull all the disparate strands together, if I may be forgiven the mixed metaphor.

Read my other blogs: on Fictional characters who live on, Memory, Books better comforters than parents, Choosing Names, How to cook up a successful novel - joke.  Subscribe above for regular updates on my blog.
Follow me on:
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