Berlioz: Requiem (Grande messe des morts) ~ Sir Colin Davis @ The Albert Hall
英國一個名叫史洛夏的村莊教會，星期天為英國最後一個食罪者，舉行悼念活動，那個名叫孟斯洛的食罪者，1906年死亡，最近，地方人士募集了一千英鎊，重修他的墳墓。 食罪者顧名思義就是把罪吃掉，在十九世紀以前，英國存在這樣一種通常只有窮人才會做的特殊職業，他們在葬禮上對著屍體吃喝，古人相信透過這個儀式，逝者生前的罪惡，就會轉移到食罪者身上，他們的靈魂，因此而獲得救贖。 多數食罪者都是窮人或乞丐，英國最後一個食罪者孟斯洛則是個有家業的農人。
Kane said: “The Chinese leadership would be startled — for a change — if the US were to adopt such a savvy negotiating posture. Beyond reducing our debt, a Taiwan deal could pressure Beijing to end its political and economic support for pariah states. It would be a game changer.”
Evidence for this dramatic funeral custom rests largely on a statement in Aubrey's Remaines of Gentilisme and Judaisme (1686/1880), 35:
In the County of Hereford was an old Custome at Funeralls to hire poor people, who were to take upon them all the sinnes of the party deceased. One of them I remember lived in a Cottage on Rosse highway. (He was a long, leane, ugly, lamentable poor raskal.) The manner was that when the Corps was brought out of the house and layd on the Biere, a Loafe of bread was brought out and delivered to the Sinne-eater over the corps, as also a Mazar-bowle … full of beer, which he was to drinke up, and sixpence in money, in consideration of which he tooke upon him (ipso facto) all the Sinnes of the Defunct, and freed him (or her) from walking after they were dead.
Aubrey adds that he had heard of several Herefordshire examples, and believed the custom had once been common in Wales; in 1714 another antiquarian said he had seen a notebook of Aubrey's giving a second description, from Shropshire. In 1852 a Mr Moggridge of Swansea claimed it had existed at Llanderbie in Wales ‘within the last twenty years’; the sineater would be given bread and salt which had been laid on the corpse's chest, plus half a crown, after which he quickly left, for he ‘was regarded as a mere Pariah, as one irremediably lost’ (Sikes, 1881: 322-4).
During the next few decades folklorists hunted for further evidence of the practice. They had no difficulty finding instances of cakes and wine, or bread and ale, being consumed by mourners round the coffin, or distributed to the poor at the house or in the graveyard. This ceremonial eating and drinking in the presence of the corpse was common at 18th-and 19th-century funerals in midland and northern counties, especially in Yorkshire. But there was no further trace of a ‘professional’ human scapegoat, a sin-eater in Aubrey's and Moggridge's sense.
These customs are best understood as echoes of medieval Requiems, and of the custom of giving alms to the poor (including food) in exchange for their prayers, normally distributed beside the grave or coffin. Scriptural support could be found in the Book of Tobias (or Tobit) which forms part of the Greek and Latin Bible: ‘Alms deliver from all sin, and from death, and will not suffer the soul to go into darkness…. Lay your bread and your wine on the grave of a just man’ (Tobias 4: 11, 18). Vague memories of this religious context persisted into the late 19th century. One Herefordshire farmer is reported as saying, ‘You must drink, sir, it's like the Sacrament, it's to kill the sins of my sister’ (Leather, 1912: 121); in Derbyshire a farmer's daughter explained, ‘When you drink wine at a funeral every drop that you drink is a sin which the deceased has committed; you thereby take away the dead man's sins and bear them yourself’ (Addy, 1895: 123-4; Addy, letter in N&Q 8s:9 (1896), 296).
Some slight hearsay evidence can be added. In 1945 a folklorist said he had heard of a few 19th-century cases in East Anglia where ‘some unsuspecting person, usually a tramp’ was given bread and salt which had been laid on a corpse, thus acquiring its sins; he said tramps still avoided houses where there had been a death, for fear of this trick (L. F. Newman, Folk-Lore 56 (1945), 291-2). In 1958 came more second-hand information from the Fens: an old lady who had died in 1906 had been told, when young, how a woman who was a sineater (‘who, incidentally, was shunned by all the villagers’) had qualified herself for the task. She had taken so much poppy-tea that she seemed to be dying, and the minister gave her absolution; she recovered, and was told by her friends that now that she was free of her own sins she could take on other people's, which she used to do by eating bread and salt laid on the shrouds of the dead and being paid thirty pennies, whitewashed to look like silver (Enid Porter, Folklore 69 (1958), 115).
For an anthropological interpretation, see E. S. Hartland, Folk-Lore 3 (1892), 145-57; he thought the custom is derived from cannibalism. Letters debating the issue will be found in The Times (18 Sept. 1895), The Academy (1895-6), and N&Q 8s:9 (1896). See Roud, 2003: 412-413).
- Kyr • i • e e • le • i • son
- kíərièi eléiəsɔ`ːn | -sɔ`n
[名]((K-))求憐唱(れんしょう)：「主よ, あわれみたまえ」（Lord, have mercy.）という祈りの文句.［ラテン語］pariah (puh-RY-uh)
noun: An outcast.
From Tamil paraiyar, plural of paraiyan (drummer), from parai (drum, to tell). As the drum players were considered among the lowest ranks in the former caste system of India, the word took on the general meaning of an outcast. Earliest documented use: 1613.
"Gaddafi's rule has seen him go from revolutionary hero to international pariah, to valued strategic partner, and back to pariah again." — Martin Asser; The Muammar Gaddafi Story; BBC News (London, UK); Mar 25, 2011.
"Sugar has replaced fat as our society's food pariah." — Randy Shore; Sugar: The New Pariah; Vancouver Sun (Canada); Mar 12, 2011.
- A social outcast: "Shortly Tom came upon the juvenile pariah of the village, Huckleberry Finn, son of the town drunkard" (Mark Twain).
- An Untouchable.
[Tamil paṛaiyar, pl. of paṛaiyan, pariah caste, from paṛai, festival drum.]
WORD HISTORY The word pariah, which can be used for anyone who is a social outcast, independent of social position, recalls a much more rigid social system, which made only certain people pariahs. The caste system of India placed pariahs, also known as Untouchables, very low in society. The word pariah, which we have extended in meaning, came into English from Tamil paṛaiyar, the plural of paṛaiyan, the caste name, which literally means "(hereditary) drummer" and comes from the word paṛai, the name of a drum used at certain festivals. The word is first recorded in English in 1613. Its use in English and its extension in meaning probably owe much to the long period of British rule in India.
- Req • ui • em
- Requiems (複数形)
1 《カトリック》死者のためのミサ.2 鎮魂曲, レクイエム, 哀歌, 挽歌(ばんか).
(tăm'əl, tŭm'-, tä'məl)
n., pl., Tamil, or -ils.
- A member of a Dravidian people of southern India and northern Sri Lanka.
- The Dravidian language of the Tamil.
Of or relating to the Tamil or their language or culture.
One who studies, collects, or deals in antiquities.
- Of or relating to antiquarians or to the study or collecting of antiquities.
- Dealing in or having to do with old or rare books.
[形]((限定))古物収集［研究］の, 好古趣味の, 希覯(きこう)の, 古書の
Bibliophiles in London
An antiquarian obsession
May 25th 2012, 10:21 by A.C. | LONDON
BOOK collectors are a curious lot. They are often pale and prone to reverential flipping of old pages, yet greedy, covetous, sharp-elbowed when required. Nicholas Basbanes’s “gentle madness” has seized mankind since before the codex. At Berlin’s book fair, it is said, fleet youths are hired to dart ahead to secure the most important prizes. In London, where the bibliophiles are now descending, the connoisseurs are more orderly, and start to queue two hours before. The London International Antiquarian Book Fair, a three-day event which runs until tomorrow, provides many sightings of the genus bibliomane—erroneously thought by new technologists to be extinct. It is a spirited rebuttal to the idea that the printed book is dead.
The fair is one of the world’s largest and oldest, celebrating its 55th year. In the lofty Victorian hall of Olympia, visitors can ogle ancient and modern books, and maps and curios from around the world. Rare book dealers from 17 countries have turned up, along with the expert valuators of the BBC’s Antiques Roadshow. Visitors can bring up to five books and learn whether the volume dug out of their ancestor’s attic is a gem—like a recent first edition of Beatrix Potter discovered in an outhouse—or worm-eaten junk.
Rarely can one touch or gawp at exceedingly rare treasures like a second folio of Shakespeare; Dickens’s own marked-up copy of “Mrs Gamp”, which he read from on his last American tour; or 15th-century books from the presses of Anton Koberer and Aldus Manutius, which sell for tens if not hundreds of thousands of pounds. At the other end of the spectrum, vintage children’s books, autographs and postcards can be picked up at numerous stands for £50 or less.
Most interesting, perhaps, is the air of optimism—there is not the slightest whiff of gloom at the state of the book world. The internet, paradoxically, has made books “à la mode”, says Claude Blaizot of the Librarie August Blaizot in Paris, purveyor of first editions of "Tintin" and fantastically bound livres d’artiste. “It has brought people to books, and shown them booksellers they never would have known existed before,” he says. Clive Farahar, the Antiques Roadshow’s book specialist, agrees that technology has opened up the book trade, and made the world of books much more accessible to all. “It’s not just the dim little shop on the high street anymore,” he said. “We can learn so much now we never would have known before.”
It is the peculiar enthusiasms of book collectors to which we owe many great library collections. Now, as the internet allows major libraries to digitise their holdings, duplicates and other surplus volumes are being released back into the market. The result is more remarkable volumes for non-specialists to admire and, yes, touch. “People love the feel of a book, and the therapy of turning the pages,” Mr Farahar says. At the fair, they can also learn how to bind books and watch demonstrations of letterpress printing, calligraphy and wood engraving. Speakers from London’s leading booksellers, including Bernard Quaritich and Maggs Bros, will lecture on the book collector’s passion, in the vein of what writer Jeanette Winterson called: “An obsession, an occupation, a disease, an addiction, a fascination, an absurdity, a fate.”
The London Antiquarian Book Fair runs from May 24th to 26th at the National Hall, Olympia, London