Latest news with #rituals
The Guardian
09-07-2025
- Entertainment
- The Guardian
Life Cycle of a Moth by Rowe Irvin review – captivating story of maternal love and male violence
In the woodland, beyond the fence, inside the old forester's hut, Maya and Daughter live in a world of rituals. The fence is secured with 'Keep-Safes' – fingernails, Daughter's first teeth, the umbilical cord that once joined them – to protect them from intruders. While their days are filled with chores, setting traps for rabbits and gathering firewood, every night they play a game they call 'This-and-That', in which they take it in turns to choose an activity – hair-brushing, dancing, copying – before saying their 'sorrys and thank yous' in the bed they share. From the beginning of British author Rowe Irvin's captivating debut novel, it is clear that Maya has created this life for herself and her daughter – who calls her mother 'Myma' – as a refuge from the brutality of the world beyond the fence's perimeter. Irvin's tale switches between two narrative strands: present-day chapters narrated by Daughter, a naive, spirited girl who is as much woodland creature as she is person; and more distant sections detailing Maya's rural upbringing with an alcoholic father and withdrawn mother, and the acts of male violence that led her to flee. Maya has taught Daughter only the words she needs for their existence, so although Daughter is 15, her language is childlike: 'Sweat dries in the furry unders of my arms.' Later, Daughter is out in the woods: 'Touch finger and thumb together now to make a circle for peering through. Move slow, pointing my seeing-hole at ground and tree and sky.' It's a feat that Irvin maintains this playful, almost incantatory voice in all Daughter's sections across these 300 pages. Maya tells Daughter that their rituals protect them against 'Rotters', people living beyond the fence, who are 'empty on the inside … hollow'. If a Rotter were to intrude on their sanctuary, they would be eaten away like 'gone-bad apples'. 'Shudder with the thought of it,' Daughter thinks. But as the novel progresses, the manner in which Maya controls Daughter's understanding of the world grows more frightening. When Daughter finds a glove in the woods – she thinks it is a 'blue hand blanket', and laughs at 'the way the long fingers flap empty at the ends' – she takes it to show her mother, thinking it will make her laugh too. It doesn't. 'It came from a Rotter,' Maya says. 'One must have got in during the dark and left it as a trick … You shouldn't have touched it.' Later, she is warned against being too inquisitive when she meets Maya in the ash copse, a rope around her neck and a stump beneath her feet. Maya tells her: 'If I step off my neck will snap and I'll be dead … The questions you ask, she says then, they can do damage, Daughter'. Daughter only has more questions when she finds the Rotter who dropped the glove. The intruder, a man named Wyn, is the first human she has ever seen apart from Maya. Her mother rages against Wyn, until a strange force stops her killing him. Once Maya convinces Daughter she has 'cut the Rot' from him, he is invited inside their dwelling, first roped-up and kept on the floor, and then given a seat at the table. More and more, Daughter questions Maya's logic. How did Wyn get over the fence, with all their Keep-Safes? And why is it suddenly OK for them to be around a Rotter? Wyn's outside perspective further reveals the extent to which the belief system they live by is simply Maya's coping mechanism for personal trauma. We know she has created this world out of a desire to protect herself and her kin. But with her love, she has also been deceptive, sometimes cruel. In impish yet tender style, Irvin thoughtfully explores what it means for a mother to care for a daughter in a world where male violence is everywhere. Life Cycle of a Moth is the very best kind of fiction: with the book open, you feel utterly transported; once you close it, you see how cunningly it holds a mirror up to reality. I can't wait to read whatever Irvin writes next. Sign up to Inside Saturday The only way to get a look behind the scenes of the Saturday magazine. Sign up to get the inside story from our top writers as well as all the must-read articles and columns, delivered to your inbox every weekend. after newsletter promotion Life Cycle of a Moth by Rowe Irvin is published by Canongate (£16.99). To support the Guardian buy a copy at Delivery charges may apply.
The Guardian
08-07-2025
- Entertainment
- The Guardian
Life Cycle of a Moth by Rowe Irvin review – captivating story of maternal love and male violence
In the woodland, beyond the fence, inside the old forester's hut, Maya and Daughter live in a world of rituals. The fence is secured with 'Keep-Safes' – fingernails, Daughter's first teeth, the umbilical cord that once joined them – to protect them from intruders. While their days are filled with chores, setting traps for rabbits and gathering firewood, every night they play a game they call 'This-and-That', in which they take it in turns to choose an activity – hair-brushing, dancing, copying – before saying their 'sorrys and thank yous' in the bed they share. From the beginning of British author Rowe Irvin's captivating debut novel, it is clear that Maya has created this life for herself and her daughter – who calls her mother 'Myma' – as a refuge from the brutality of the world beyond the fence's perimeter. Irvin's tale switches between two narrative strands: present-day chapters narrated by Daughter, a naive, spirited girl who is as much woodland creature as she is person; and more distant sections detailing Maya's rural upbringing with an alcoholic father and withdrawn mother, and the acts of male violence that led her to flee. Maya has taught Daughter only the words she needs for their existence, so although Daughter is 15, her language is childlike: 'Sweat dries in the furry unders of my arms.' Later, Daughter is out in the woods: 'Touch finger and thumb together now to make a circle for peering through. Move slow, pointing my seeing-hole at ground and tree and sky.' It's a feat that Irvin maintains this playful, almost incantatory voice in all Daughter's sections across these 300 pages. Maya tells Daughter that their rituals protect them against 'Rotters', people living beyond the fence, who are 'empty on the inside … hollow'. If a Rotter were to intrude on their sanctuary, they would be eaten away like 'gone-bad apples'. 'Shudder with the thought of it,' Daughter thinks. But as the novel progresses, the manner in which Maya controls Daughter's understanding of the world grows more frightening. When Daughter finds a glove in the woods – she thinks it is a 'blue hand blanket', and laughs at 'the way the long fingers flap empty at the ends' – she takes it to show her mother, thinking it will make her laugh too. It doesn't. 'It came from a Rotter,' Maya says. 'One must have got in during the dark and left it as a trick … You shouldn't have touched it.' Later, she is warned against being too inquisitive when she meets Maya in the ash copse, a rope around her neck and a stump beneath her feet. Maya tells her: 'If I step off my neck will snap and I'll be dead … The questions you ask, she says then, they can do damage, Daughter'. Daughter only has more questions when she finds the Rotter who dropped the glove. The intruder, a man named Wyn, is the first human she has ever seen apart from Maya. Her mother rages against Wyn, until a strange force stops her killing him. Once Maya convinces Daughter she has 'cut the Rot' from him, he is invited inside their dwelling, first roped-up and kept on the floor, and then given a seat at the table. More and more, Daughter questions Maya's logic. How did Wyn get over the fence, with all their Keep-Safes? And why is it suddenly OK for them to be around a Rotter? Wyn's outside perspective further reveals the extent to which the belief system they live by is simply Maya's coping mechanism for personal trauma. We know she has created this world out of a desire to protect herself and her kin. But with her love, she has also been deceptive, sometimes cruel. In impish yet tender style, Irvin thoughtfully explores what it means for a mother to care for a daughter in a world where male violence is everywhere. Life Cycle of a Moth is the very best kind of fiction: with the book open, you feel utterly transported; once you close it, you see how cunningly it holds a mirror up to reality. I can't wait to read whatever Irvin writes next. Sign up to Inside Saturday The only way to get a look behind the scenes of the Saturday magazine. Sign up to get the inside story from our top writers as well as all the must-read articles and columns, delivered to your inbox every weekend. after newsletter promotion Life Cycle of a Moth by Rowe Irvin is published by Canongate (£16.99). To support the Guardian buy a copy at Delivery charges may apply.
Irish Times
07-07-2025
- Entertainment
- Irish Times
Love charms, frog bread, letters and wakes: How the Irish and Italians handled emigration to the US
The idea for Rituals of Migration emerged when we began to compare the customs surrounding emigration from Ireland and Italy. In Ireland, local communities bade farewell to emigrants they would never see again by holding an 'American wake,' an all-night ceremony with drinking, music, and keening. In Italy, although the chances of returning were much higher, departures also featured lamentations and silent processions. In both countries, family, friends, and neighbours gathered to read the 'American letter,' learning the news from abroad and checking to see if the envelope contained money or prepaid passage tickets. In thinking about these aspects of migration, we also drew inspiration from literature – short stories by Máirtín Ó Cadhain and Maria Messina; Colm Tóibín's Brooklyn: A Novel and the sequel, Long Island – and from films such as Rocco e i Suoi Fratelli (1960), Nuovomondo (2006), and The Field (1990). But a historian is like a novelist under oath, always constrained by the available evidence. And film is film. To what extent, then, can historians uncover the more intimate, emotional dimensions of the migrant experience? READ MORE Approaching migration from the perspective of rituals provides a compelling answer to this question. Certain kinds of social and cultural activity convey meaning through their structure, form and repetition. Rituals are communicative actions that must be performed to be effective. We focus on particular moments, actions, sentiments, and material objects – at the point of departure, in transit, and in the process of return – to uncover their meaning and significance. Approaching migration through the lens of ritual sheds light on what people thought, felt, did, and carried with them as they embarked on the journeys that changed their lives. At a time of intense anti-immigrant rhetoric, we also hoped that a new approach to two of the largest diasporas in history would help humanise people on the move today. We find the idea of rituals performed during rites of passage especially helpful. At various points during their lives – including birth, puberty, coming of age, marriage and death – individuals experience moments of separation, transition and reincorporation, and they mark these occasions with particular words, actions, sentiments, and objects. Emigration involves a particular kind of rite of passage: separation from the homeland, a journey to a new society, integration into that society and the possibility of return. And grappling with the decision of whether to leave or stay was an expected part of the Irish and Italian life cycle. The 'American wake' had well-defined ritual components. In the week leading up to departure, the emigrant called on friends and neighbours and invited them to the farewell ceremony. Women prepared food; guests brought more food; men brought beer and poitín. The 'wake' started on the evening before departure and usually continued through the night, with dancing, drinking, and keening. In the morning, family, neighbours and friends followed the emigrant along the road until, at an agreed-upon crossroads or turning point, the older members of the community said goodbye and stood watching until their loved one disappeared from sight. The American wake slowed down and formalised the process of departure, binding the emigrants emotionally to their community and providing consolation to those who stayed behind. In Italy, rituals surrounding la partenza – family dinners, visits, packing, letters – featured excitement, anticipation and joy as well as sorrow, just as the Irish wake had elements of merriment alongside grief. Because so many Italian men left as 'birds of passage' with the intention of returning, migration could be seen as a temporary phase rather than a permanent loss. More than 50 per cent of the Italians who migrated to the Americas returned, compared to well under 10 per cent of the Irish. Most Irish emigrants were very poor to begin with. They earned significant amounts of money abroad, but they were much more likely to send remittances to bring siblings over to the United States than to use that money to return home. Most of them felt, with good reason, that there was nothing much to return to. Irish migration, as we explain in the book, was also highly distinctive in that, from the famine onward, about half of the emigrants were young women. Finding opportunity abroad, they were more likely than men to send remittances home and, in doing so, they financed an extensive system of chain migration. Italian migration, by contrast, was heavily male. Before immigration restriction in the 1920s, perhaps three-quarters of Italians who emigrated to the United States were men. They came intending to work in the United States for three to five years before returning home to Italy. Some made repeat journeys. In southern Italy, where widows traditionally dressed in black, these men married before leaving in effort to protect gender and patriarchy norms. The brides, left at home and known as 'white widows', often subverted those norms in their husbands' absence by starting businesses or taking lovers, even as the husbands took new partners abroad. The book also shows how material objects provide important insights into migration and its rituals. Most people in the past did not leave written records; nor did they use written language as their primary mode of expression. Analysing the objects they carried with them is a powerful way to learn about their experience. In all human societies, key transitional moments in the life cycle – births and birthdays, comings of age, weddings, and funerals – involve the transmission of objects. Migration history features a rich variety of material sources, including trunks, suitcases, remittances, parcels, posters, clothing, and handwoven textiles, physical spaces and places (ruined cottages, pubs, ships, poor-law offices, US consular offices, immigrant landing centres, hotels and boarding houses), and non-textual cultural forms such as music, photographs and film. These sources provide rich insights into sensations, emotions and experiences that leave no trace in written records. Material objects sometimes assumed a spiritual or magical significance. Some Irish emigrants, for example, carried 'frog bread', made by roasting and crushing a frog and mixing the powder with oaten meal, to ward off illness during the voyage. Italian migrants often carried images of their town's patron saint in their steamship trunks to protect them during the trip and abroad. They also packed charms against bad luck and swaddling clothes with amulets and embroidery to protect infants from the evil eye. Emigrants carried love charms, too, including pubic hair stitched into clothing or a drop of menstrual blood soaked in linen and sewn into a man's clothes to symbolise faithfulness. Rituals of Migration reveals how everyone involved in the migrant experience – migrants, the families they left behind, and those in charge of regulating mobility – tried to make sense of a process filled with peril and uncertainty, but also with hope and excitement. Rituals reveal aspects of the migrant experience that might otherwise go unnoticed, providing powerful reminders of the hopes, sorrows, and joys that people on the move experience. We focus on the Irish and the Italians, two of the largest migrant groups in modern history, but we hope this book will inspire similar studies of other groups, both past and present. Rituals of Migration: Italians and Irish on the Move, edited by Kevin Kenny and Maddalena Marinari, was published by New York University Press last month.
Forbes
30-06-2025
- General
- Forbes
Are Rituals The Missing Piece In Modern Marketing Strategy?
Unlocking the power of rituals. Native American tribes performed rain dances to summon their spirits and ancestors to bring rain. The ancient Egyptians mummified cats and buried them with their owners so they could remain together in the afterlife. During the Roman festival of Saturnalia—in honor of the god Saturn—masters and slaves would temporarily swap clothes and roles. It would be easy to dismiss rituals as irrational and outdated, but rituals tap into a fundamental human need to connect, belong and make sense of life. Rituals serve as anchors in a changing world. Rituals don't offer a practical outcome in the external world, but they deliver numerous psychological and social benefits. First, rituals offer structure in times of uncertainty, making us feel less anxious and more in control. When Anthropologist Bronislaw Malinowski visited the Trobriand Islands in Papua New Guinea in 1915, he made a groundbreaking observation. The fishermen would engage in elaborate rituals before fishing in the deep ocean but not when fishing in the calm lagoon. Rituals were a means of coping with the unpredictability of the Pacific Ocean. Second, rituals create a stronger emotional connection within the community. Finally, in a seemingly random world, rituals create a shared meaning. Modernity has stripped away rituals that once grounded us. Western cultures have fewer explicit rituals than traditional cultures. Church attendance has declined in the U.S. and Western Europe. Marriage rates are at an all-time low. Cremation is replacing traditional burials. But we still participate in rituals without being aware of them. Certain rituals are so ingrained in our routines that they become invisible to us. Like a morning coffee, singing happy birthday and shaking hands before a meeting. In sports, psychologists have proven that pre-performance rituals can enhance performance and reduce anxiety. No wonder Michael Jordan wore his University of North Carolina (UNC) practice shorts underneath his Chicago Bulls uniform in every game. Usain Bolt ate chicken nuggets before races. And Christiano Ronaldo always steps on the pitch with his right foot first. Over time, rituals have shifted from collective endeavors to individual pursuits. I term this the rise of micro-rituals. Modern examples include slowmaxxing on TikTok, a movement where young people encourage a slower pace of life—reading books, slow cooking and relaxation—over the speed and productivity of hustle culture. Attempting to reclaim time and reject externally driven pressures. Gen-Z is also leading the surge in gym memberships. Going to the gym offers some much-needed structure and control in a chaotic world. The rise of run clubs represents a similar desire to create new collective rituals. Many running clubs incorporate a pre-workout coffee or post-workout drinks into the experience. Young people's embrace of granny hobbies like knitting, napping and scrapbooking is all emblematic of the deeper desire to build rituals. Much like the fishermen of the Trobriand Islands, we are looking for rituals to help us navigate choppy waters. Despite modern life eroding the magic and mystery of rituals from our collective memory, some mass rituals still endure. The most widely watched live TV moments are sporting events like the Summer Olympic Games, FIFA World Cup and Cricket World Cup. The 2022 FIFA World Cup Final was watched by 1.5 billion people. TV viewership is plummeting globally, but sporting events are bucking the trend. Watching sports is inherently ritualistic: the spectacle happens at a specific time, following a recognized pattern from kick-off, halftime and post-match commentary. The experience is rarely solo; most people watch sports with friends and family, or at stadiums, surrounded by fans and rivals. Club logos, logos and jerseys have symbolic value. Fans experience a rollercoaster of emotions, ranging from despair to elation. Such rituals are critical for the formation of social identity. For example, I'm a Liverpool fan, not a Manchester United fan. Similarly, young people are turning to religion in search of community and meaning. Young men in the U.S. and Europe are embracing Catholicism in search of guidance and structure in a disoriented world. Festivals are also booming; a recent survey reveals that Gen-Z's ideal summer would consist of five festivals. There are some iconic examples of brands creating and tapping into rituals, such as Nestlé's 'Have a Break, Have a KitKat' and Kellogg's making 'Breakfast the most important meal of the day.' More recently, Aesop has transformed functional handwashing into a luxurious self-care ritual. In times of uncertainty, we seek rituals to find comfort, control and meaning. Modern life has eroded most collective rituals in the pursuit of productivity. However, rituals are an intangible but fundamental part of human existence. Rituals make us feel rooted, connected and part of a community. Young people are seeking ancient and new rituals to navigate the current sea of uncertainty. Brands have the opportunity to create rituals that help young people navigate the unpredictable waves of life.
Yahoo
24-06-2025
- Science
- Yahoo
'Deciphering these mysterious strings': How reading the Inca's knotted cords can reveal past droughts and deluges
When you buy through links on our articles, Future and its syndication partners may earn a commission. Five centuries ago, the Incas ruled the western half of South America with the help of a unique form of writing based on colored and knotted cords. These strings, called khipus, recorded major events, tracked economic matters, and even encoded biographies and poetry, according to the Spanish chroniclers who witnessed their use. Most khipus have knots that indicate numbers that we can "read," but we've lost the ability to interpret what those numbers mean. Recent discoveries are bringing us closer to deciphering these mysterious strings. In a remote community set high in the Peruvian Andes, my team and I have found khipus that were used by villagers to track climate change. Last year, I was invited to study the centuries-old khipus preserved in the village of Santa Leonor de Jucul in the Peruvian Andes. The 97 khipus conserved by villagers include the largest khipu in the world, which is over 68 meters long. An elderly ritual specialist, Don Lenin Margarito, told me that the khipus recorded the annual ritual offerings given at different sacred places in the surrounding landscape. Miniature pink ritual bags stuffed with coca leaves and tobacco hang from the cords, representing the sacred purpose of these ancient strings. Rather than communicating through knots, the Jucul khipus record data with different kinds of tassels. For example, a tassel made of fuzzy beige llama tails indicates that an offering was performed at the sacred lake of Paccha-cocha, high in the mountains. The fluffiness of the llama tails is like a rain cloud, Don Lenin explained, representing the fact that offerings given at Paccha-cocha are thought to bring rain. Different kinds of tassels indicate offerings made at other ritual sites, each one of which is thought to have its own effect on the local environment. Rituals involving the spirits of the dead, for instance, are thought to halt flooding. Related: Secret 'drug room' full of psychedelic 'snuff tubes' discovered at pre-Inca site in Peru If you look at one of the Jucul khipus and you see that there were a lot of offerings to Paccha-cocha that year, you know that this was a time of drought since the offerings were given to increase the rain. When speaking with community members, we learned that the khipus used to be kept in public so that they could be consulted by the elders. Andean people of the past looked at these khipus as a record of the climate, and they studied them to understand the patterns of what was going on, just as we do today. New methods for obtaining precise radiocarbon dates for khipus have been pioneered by a team headed by khipu researcher Ivan Ghezzi. Efforts are now underway to get accurate radiocarbon dates for the Jucul khipus, which will provide a chronology of these climate-based offerings. If we can chart the khipus and then date them, we will have a record of climate data from this region that was created by the local Andean people themselves. In their current state, the Jucul khipus are threatened by insects, mould and rodents. The British Museum recently granted funding to clean, preserve and display the khipus so that these precious objects from the Andean past will persevere into the future. RELATED STORIES —'An offering to energize the fields': 76 child sacrifice victims, all with their chests cut open, unearthed at burial site in Peru —73 pre-Incan mummies, some with 'false heads,' unearthed from Wari Empire in Peru —Skeletons of Incan kids buried 500 years ago found marred with smallpox There are only five villages in the Peruvian Andes where ancestral khipus are kept. These rare archives offer tantalising clues about how khipus encoded information. Research in other villages with living khipu traditions has led to breakthroughs in the significance of khipu colour patterns and phonology. Many Inka khipus possess tassels which we believe may reveal the subject matter of the associated khipu. If we could unlock the significance of the tassels on the Jucul khipus, it might allow us to interpret more precisely the meaning of Inca cords. This edited article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.
