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| an extract from |
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| On the Aesthetic Decline
of the Mock-Funeral |
| One of the stranger fashions to have been taken up
by the wealthy and celebrated in recent years is that of staging
one’s own funeral. And indeed it is a great illustration of
how we, the readers of tabloid newspapers and glossy magazines,
can become acclimatised to that which is absurd, bizarre and utterly
extraordinary. The other day, whilst standing in a supermarket queue,
I overheard a conversation between two middle aged and somewhat
overweight women flicking through Zoo magazine. Suddenly the elder
of the two said “Ooh, they’ve got Ozzie’s funeral”.
The other leant over to take a look. “How many goats did he
have?” After a brief pause the first replied “sixteen,
and four ostriches.... Eddie Izzard was the priest.” They
turned the page. “Oh, doesn’t Kelly look gorgeous in
black.” “I bet those shoes cost a fortune.” Then
one pointed at some picture I couldn’t see and they both erupted
in laughter. “Did she really think she could get away with
that!”... “J-Lo’s was better, more colourful.”
I was fascinated by the casualness with which they discussed what
I felt to be a considerably surreal event. To them it was little
more than a fashion parade, an excuse to admire and condemn the
tastes and figures of younger, richer, prettier people than themselves;
to me it was an expression of unprecedented decadence amongst the
celebrity classes, and, as with all expressions of decadence, a
most revealing window to the many hidden (and not so hidden) sicknesses
within. |
| This unlikely fashion for the premature staging of
one’s own death ritual should not be confused with the ancient
rituals of rebirth that are known to date back to the days of the
Pharaohs, if not earlier. Those were part of a larger whole, a manifestation
of religious beliefs that placed the political leader in the role
of a God, whose rebirth on a monthly, or in some cases daily, cycle
was deemed to be essential for the health of society. Their political
purpose was the demonstration of hierarchy, and the reinforcement
of power bases. They remained fixed and unchanged across generations.
By contrast, this modern manifestation is an expression of individual
concerns and values and though it naturally relates to issues within
the larger society it is essentially a personalised ritual, in most
cases designed as a public display of the aesthetic or philosophy
of what I shall refer to as the “notionally deceased”. |
| To fully grasp the essence of the mock-funeral it
is important to contemplate for a moment the essence of a real funeral,
that being, at least in today’s society, the cathartic expression
of grief. A funeral without grief is essentially an empty vessel,
devoid of meaning or motivation, and it is that vacuum which lies
at the heart of the mock-funeral. How it is filled, be it with statements
of aesthetic, commercial implications, protest, egotism or simply
fashion, can be a very telling indicator of the spiritual and indeed
mental health and concerns not just of the persons involved, but
also of the times in which they live. |
| Let us consider for how this all started. The earliest
known example of a mock-funeral being staged purely for aesthetic
or artistic reasons is that of Francis Featherstone in 1894. Featherstone,
a self proclaimed pre-modernist poet of the late nineteenth century
and spiritual leader of the movement known as the Devonshire Cathartists,
became, towards the end of his life, increasingly fixated upon the
crucifixion and subsequent resurrection of Jesus, despite being
an ardent atheist and proudly devout sinner. On July 4th 1894, before
a crowd of around thirty fellow poets and other pre-modernist artists,
he was ritually enshrouded and be-coffined, placed upon a pauper’s
hearse and pulled, by his followers, eight miles into the depths
of Dartmoor, to a ready dug grave. The coffin was interred at midday,
fires were lit, toasts were given and Featherstone’s epic
poem, Reinventing Lazarus (now sadly lost) was recited by Sir Henry
Irving, with occasional breaks for light refreshments. Finally,
upon completion of the recitation some twelve or so hours later,
the grave was unfilled and Featherstone arose from the ground at
midnight, cleansed and renewed, miraculously reborn through Art.
At least that is how the event is presented in his journal. A local
newspaper report paints a slightly different picture: |
| This last Sunday was witnessed a further demonstration
of the increasing lunatic eccentricity of local “character”
Francis Featherston[sic.] and his dubious associates. In what can
only be described as a most perplexing comedy of sanctimony Featherstone
had himself be-coffined amid considerable invented ceremony, and
then dragged upon an offall[sic.] cart into the depths of the moor.
Our source, who followed the proceedings at what was described as
a respectable distance, reports that upon arrival atop Crow Tor
the coffin was placed in a ready dug grave and covered over, following
which the most debaucherous of celebrations ensued involving much
drunkenness and not inconsiderable nudity. Among the revellers were
the actor Henry Irving and Exeter stationary magnate Sir Edmond
Whitstable ... What possible motive he might have had for such an
act of assured self-importance is hard to fathom, but one would
have thought Mr. Featherston[sic.] would be keeping a low profile
given the recent allegations levelled against him... |
| Whichever account is closer to the actual occasion,
it is clear that the proceedings were conducted with considerable
ritual intention, and it should be noted that even drunken nudity
would not be undertaken lightly in February on Dartmoor where temperatures
frequently fall well below freezing.... |
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