I do not wish to become mired in the minefield that is a discussion on religion (there are fewer topics that carry a more heated argument- bringing to mind colleagues of mine accosting a devout Christian with her views on sex before marriage...), but during the course of this the service, I was struck by the inherent rhythm that is fundamental to the practice of organised religion. Despite the best efforts of this church to drag the practice into the modern world, the fact remained that they could not do away with the prayers and hymns. Compounded by the presence of any number of people persuaded by otherbeliefs, perhaps it is fair to admit that this was possibly an abbreviated version of how they normally practice. But in any event, there is still the singing of hymns (badly, as is the norm), the saying of prayers, the opportunity to adopt the pulpit, and the inescapably tearful words of those wounded by loss.
The cynic cannot help but point out that at any funeral, there are actually only a few seriously affected by the tragedy, whilst others, as heartful and sorry as possible, cannot understand the loss being endured. It is an entirely personal thing, and for which one can only attend the funeral, almost as a show of solidarity. The service could be in Latin, for all that it is being listened to, as people tend to mechanically recite ancient pleas, even if it is with the fervour reserved to the devout. My point, really, is that there is a profounf significance that lies in the repetition, the ryhthm of the whole process, as a fundamental element of the aim of the whole process.
For many of us, we know the services by heart (at one stage, I had it down to a timed art, such as to know exactly when I could escape, and even to the extent of being able to day dream through significant portions such as to try and alleviate the burden of enforced attendance) and often, with the manner of knowing, but lacking understanding. But in matters of funerals and weddings (those events that even the non-religious feel a curious pull towards attendance) it is strange to consider than in moments of extreme emotion, the mere presence at these events acts as solace.
As is my wont, of course, I tend to comment upon sociological events with the untrained eye, posing questions that are perhaps a trite commentary on the world around us. My curiousity is piqued by the repetition, however, as a quite considerably younger character, I espoused a treatise upon the notion of our living to a rhythm, in the sense that it being of profound significance to us, as a species, to have routine. But the tension lies in the self-imposed slavery that it becomes, as we lose our sense of self by simply doing things through habit, or sheer formality. We neglect to question, and evaluate so many things, because they are
"just things that everyone does".
To many, this may be a rather naive, and certainly a youthful, observation (and trust me, it was). The desire to "cast off the shackles of the oppressor" and quote, ad nauseum, the words of Holden Caulfield- this was not really the case. I was, and still am, an observer, more than anything else (and yes, I am sure that the Existentialists would have much to tell me). But in the years that have passed since then, whilst I still acknowledge the central idea of the treatise, I have become rather more persuaded by the idea that in order for our selves to functionally exist, the notion of routine is absolutely essential. To navigate the confusion of the daily world, there has to at least be something to cling to, even if is only in the simple act of eating a meal, or reading the newspaper.
It is almost as if we cannot help it. Certainly, we have functional, physical needs that need to be met, but having said this, there are many of us that end up doing those things in exactly the same manner in an endless repetition. Consider how essential routine is to a young child, how important it is for the parents' sanity to ensure their child has a vague idea of what to expect so as not to encourage blue murder when the child is hungry or tired. Another example that comes to mind, and this is directed to the women, consider how a "change" can be simply a haircut. And it truly is a "change" because even though it can significantly change appearance, to everyone else (read: other women), it is something to mention, a topic to discuss. It is a disruption of the ordinary progression of things- requiring a different way of getting "ready" in the morning, an alteration to the reflection in the mirror- and hence for many, it may not happen all that often. My point is that we develop systems almost by sheer default. Some are more banal than others, but they are certainly all there. They become an essential part of the make up of this thing that we commonly call "life".
I am sure that there are many amongst us that could draw significance from this into the realm of music, but, for a change, this is a topic I don't really want to broach, for the reason that I think it may lead down a tenuous road that is like to end to bland and trite observations. Suffice to say, that if one considers the notion of life as movement, as a repetitious movement, it may explain something of our innate need (and attraction) to music in the course of a daily world.
But I suppose that having reached this point in my observations, the obvious question is to ask whether there is any significance in this at all. If one acknowledges that certain of these things are dicated by biology, then is this to say that we should try and think of new ways to eat meals every time that we are hungry? Drive to work by a different road each day? The choices are extremely limited by the nature of the specific task, and ultimately, there is comfort to be had in doing things by a set pattern. To the young, the idea is abhorrent, to the older, a simple fact. Energy expounded in rage, and frustration, is tranferred to something more akin to understanding (the younger would say resignation). Certain things are simply facts, and there is little value in attempting to flail against them.
It is always with a sense of amusement that I watch certain scientific discoveries being promoted to the world (consider the endless dietary discoveries that are constantly being produced to great fanfare). One such recent pronouncement is that it has now been proven that culture has an effect on human evolution, with part of the proof pointing to the incidence of lactose tolerance, and the manner in which that has become ingrained into our DNA. Although I do not discount that I possibly do not reflect the opinions held generally, to me, this seems like an absolutely ridiculous observation to make. Surely it is obvious that certain elements of culture would dictate our evolution? If for some reason, we were to all become vegans, does logic not dictate that this would change our development? In any event, before I embark upon a tirade that is likely ill-advised, my point is that there is so much that we just don't know, that for many, even these sorts of observations are relevant (and even significant).
For many, the comfort lies in the development of a routine, and to a greater or lesser degree some may draw significance from that. In the most awful comparison that I have attempted to avoid as best I could, the notion can be illustrated through the development of some sort of a bedrock - a foundation - as from this best allows scope for experimentation. Comfort is not necessarily a good thing, but it is a pitfall most inevitably fall into, and it is something some may need to confront and deal with. For others amongst us, this idea is embodied in the concept of noise- banging a wooden spoon on a pan- insistent beats, and a certain element of familiarity. Songs with very strong rhythmic content, and fairly "classic" use of song structure, could be described as cheesy. But then that is truthfully only because we know its type so well.
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