The Falls

Part of a recent series of paintings based on the work of American scholar of the weird Charles Fort (b.1874, d.1932).

The inspiration (and source of the accompanying text) is Fort’s Book of the Damned (1919), a massive tome that consists largely of hundreds upon hundreds of accounts of strange objects and substances falling from the sky, obsessively gathered from centuries worth of almanacs, scientific journals, and eyewitness accounts, and interspersed with flagrantly bizarre stabs at explanation (at one point, he proposes the existence of an antigravitational atmospheric zone- the “super-sargasso sea”- where lost objects end up and are occasionally dislodged by errant wind currents).  These explanations are, I suspect, tongue-in-cheek, intended not so much to provide a believable theory to account for these events as to show what such a theory would have to look like.

The paintings are oil on wood, ranging from 24×18″ to 10×8″ in size.  Ultimately, for each painting, the corresponding text will be printed on a separate panel, matching the width of the painting and displayed directly below it.  Better images to come.

The Falls: silk
The Falls: silk

“…there is mention of a fibrous substance like blue silk that fell over Naumberg, March 23, 1665”

 

The Falls: flakes
The Falls: flakes

“Upon March 3, 1876, at Olympian Springs, Bath County, Kentucky, flakes of a substance that looked like beef fell from the sky- ‘from a clear sky’.”

 

The Falls: paper
The Falls: paper

“Substance like charred paper fell in Norway and other parts of Northern Europe, Jan. 31, 1686”

 

The Falls: worms
The Falls: worms

“London Times, April 14, 1837:  That, in the parish of Bramford Speke, Devonshire, a large number of black worms, about three quarters of an inch in length, had fallen in a snowstorm.”

 

The Falls: disk
The Falls: disk

“A disk of worked stone fell from the sky, at Tarbes, France, June 20, 1887.”

In Defense of Absurd Cosmologies, part III, or: conclusions drawn from several centuries of odd things falling from the sky

“I suppose that one of our main motives is to show that there is… nothing but the preposterous- or something intermediate to absolute preposterousness and final reasonableness- that the new is the obviously preposterous; that it becomes the established and disguisedly preposterous; that it is displaced, after a while, and is again seen to be preposterous.”

Charles Fort, The Book of the Damned

(italics added)

In Defense of Absurd Cosmologies

Animism- the idea that every entity, even inanimate ones such as stones and buildings, has a soul (or to use less weighted language, a mind) – is about as unfashionable is at gets.  It is hardly ever brought into discussion outside of new age circles, and when it is, it is usually referenced as a humorous reductio ad absurdum to some other idea.  Indeed, the very word “inanimate” seems to function within our language as a built-in rejection of animism.

It has been traditional to attribute animism to the supposed infantile tendency to view all entities/phenomena as possessing minds comparable to one’s own, a tendency that is gradually outgrown as one’s perceptual faculties mature.  What arises from this view is a sort of theological hierarchy, with each successive stage corresponding to ever higher levels of cognitive development: animism -> polytheism-> monotheism-> atheism (this last step may be skipped depending on which state you live in).  Modern-day anthropology has mostly shed this narrative, but it lingers in the background of popular understandings of cultural development.

The biological analogue to this model is the now-discredited idea that ontogeny recapitulates phylogeny- basically, that the historical development of forms mirrors the development of individual beings.  So, in its maturation, the human body passes through phases mirroring the evolution of the human species.  The only real defense of this model lies in the fact that human embryos possess gills and a tail- never mind that human children never pass through phases wherein they resemble lizards or lemurs.  Regardless, there is a sort of superficial elegance to this model, and it was very much in vogue about a hundred years ago.

Applied to the development of cultural forms, this idea dives into even more dangerous waters.  We are, after all, not just talking about a sequence of extinct ideas that ultimately gave rise to our current models.  Animism, polytheism, monotheism, and atheism (as well as any number of less easily-categorized models) all persist to this day.  To prefer any one of these as the inevitable evolutionary endpoint depends upon a fairly obvious ethnocentric assumption.  It goes without saying that one’s own culture would possess the most advanced understanding, and other cultures would be viewed as more or less primitive (“infantile”) in proportion to their similarity thereto.

I mention all of this here because what is at issue is ultimately an aesthetic conflict.  There is of course absolutely no rational or empirical defense for animism, and as a model it has no explanatory or predictive power.  It is not so much a means of understanding the world as encountering it.  Just as we would perceive other humans differently if we believed them to be mindless automatons, so do animism and related models offer the potential for a radically divergent experience of the world at large.  This alone makes them worth engaging with on their own terms, and not to be rejected solely on the basis of their presumed absurdity.