Australian Women's Book Review: Online

Hecate's
Australian Women's Book Review

ISSN 1033-9434
Editor:  Barbara Brook
Contributing Assistant Editor:  Katie Hughes
Photomontage:  Set in Stone, Adele Flood

Volume 12, 2000

Bogeys, Boo-baggers … and Bananas

No Go the Bogeyman: Scaring, Lulling and Making Mock by Marina Warner,
Vintage, pb., $24.95, 435 pp.

Reviewed by Heather Nix

Short narrative forms such as fairy tale, myth, legend and fable along with the process of their oral-telling are the foundations on which young children become acculturated. They are also the foundations on which our imaginations grow and how we perceive what is real - and unreal. And so, into our minds - and popular culture - the bogeyman creeps, in one guise or another giving our fears a face and a form.

Marina Warner's No Go the Bogeyman is all about fear and how the act of scaring, lulling and making mock helps us to cope with anxieties. It is also a collection of stories about the bogeys who materialise fear in some kind of living shape, about their character and their ways. Drawing from a broad range of material that includes art, music, literature and film its eclecticism reflects the surprising variety and ingenuity of the methods used to deal with fear.

Scaring …

In playing the age-old game of Peek-a-Boo with a very young infant not only do we introduce them to fear, but pleasure also; of fearful surprise on the infant's face, followed (hopefully) by a broadening smile as they realise that the fear is unfounded.

The contradictory nature of fear and pleasure underlies Part One of No Go the Bogeyman as Warner examines why it is we find so much pleasure in monsters, ogres, and beasts who kill and eat human flesh. That pleasure, she suggests, is founded in Greek mythology; the flesh-eating Cyclops Polyphemus and the monster Scylla, both of whom foreshadow the development of the monstrous in literature and art.

Whether it be ogres, monsters, giants, devils, witches or vampires, the cannibalistic impulse in the cultural imaginary remains today as it did in fifth century BC. Warner suggests that classic and contemporary literature, film, and art produce overriding images of survival where:

food¾procuring it, preparing it, cooking it, eating it¾dominates…consuming it offers contradictory metaphors of life and civilization as well as barbarity and extinction.

Goya's “Black Paintings”, 1822-23, which Warner suggests may have hung in his dining room, exemplifies this. Reflecting on Goya's painting, and the usual title ascribed to it, “Saturn Devouring his Son”, (or, as Warner suggests, his daughter), the author goes on to suggest Goya's savage ogre “is a fore runner of the Bluebeards of fairy tale”, whose appetites metaphorically consume women.

Lulling …

“Lullabies are related to work songs, spinning songs, shanties (and) chain-gang songs” as it is generally the mother's job, through the act of lulling, to help the baby on its journey from the glimmer of a doze to the mystery zone of sleep and dreams. But, as Warner points out, the boundaries of that journey are always marked for the safe return of the infant. Quoting Gilles Deleuze and Felix Guattari, Warner claims:

chants, snatches of song, Muzak, humming to oneself as one works … serve to mark the boundaries, as stones do. They mention lullabies, for these songs are often the first way the edges of a world are fumbled out for a newborn by a mother.

Space and time coincide in the lullaby as the mother sings of a time present, and of a future. Thus, the act of lulling implies that a number of double narratives exist; the relationship of the singer to the infant and, within the words - another story; the doubling of the narrative voice for the lullaby not only sings to the child, but can also sing for the child, as if in the child's voice; and finally, the bogeys who make their first appearance in a child's imagination in lullabies that conjure them up at the very moment of placating them.

The antithesis between lulling and terror in No Go the Bogeyman see-saws between the imagination and the rendering of factual material. Warner's cornerstone in understanding this antithesis is the depiction, in art, of Herod's massacre of innocent babes. Warner perceptively draws on a sixteenth-century painting by Caravaggio. “The Rest on the Flight from Egypt” depicts Mary at peace, with babe in arms, while Joseph holds a musical score for an angel playing a violin. The music, Warner states, is “mournful, solemn, stately, slow and 'liturgical'”; the rhythm is very steady and would lull. She discusses a number of other paintings from around the same period that depict women lulling their babes shortly before fleeing in terror as Herod's “Bogeys” carry out his orders.

In setting her own cornerstone Warner removes the stones that mark the boundaries around the cradle to lay bare the act of lulling, and all that occurs beyond the boundaries; beyond the relationship between mother and child to the “infuriated singer of a cradle song (or nursery rhyme) summoning the monster or bogeyman to work on her behalf”:

Baby, baby, naughty baby,
Hush you squalling thing, I say.
Peace this moment, peace, or maybe
Bonaparte will pass this way.

And he'll beat you, beat you, beat you,
And he'll beat you all to pap,
And he'll eat you eat you, eat you,
Every morsel, snap, snap, snap.

Despite the grim nature of these rhymes Warner suggests they should be viewed with sympathy. “More often than not, the songs are filled with the difficulties of mothering … [and] they catch the tension and the exhaustion of dependency - maternal ambivalence”.

Making Mock …

Part Three of No Go the Bogeyman considers the act of making mock and how humour “can assert itself against the unkindness of real circumstance”. Mocking and humour are the head and tail of Warner's reading of our fascination with the monstrous and grotesque. A workable and helpful definition, she suggests, is that “one belongs to the order of representation; the other to the order of nature”. Warner's distinction between the two finds its origins in the mythological Circe who enchanted men and turned them into beastly followers with the body of a man and the head of a beast, resulting in a generic disorder to the natural world. But it was Gryllus who willingly shunned the “natural” world and chose to fall under Circe's power so he too could have the pleasure of her company.

It is not difficult to see how Gryllus' desire to reclaim value for the beastly “selves” is closely related to the beast in all animal fables, the beast with human qualities in fairy tale, and bestial metamorphosis in literature, and in film. Lewis Carroll's Gryphon and Mock Turtle are mentioned as being the most “eloquent modern exponents” of Circean tradition that sport “with nature and the pleasures that beasts and monsters can inspire”.

Not only does Warner contextualise fear within the acts of scaring, lulling and making mock, but she also contextualises our understanding of the history and development of myth, legend, fable, and fairy tale within popular culture. As for “Going Bananas” - I suggest you read that chapter for yourself.

Heather Nix recently completed her PhD in Creative writing. She has an interest in short form narratives and early childhood learning.

Hecate's Australian Women's Book Review

ISSN 1033-9434		Editor: Barbara Brook Contributing Assistant Editor: Katie Hughes *Photomontage: Set in Stone, Adele Flood*
Volume 12, 2000

Bogeys, Boo-baggers … and Bananas No Go the Bogeyman: Scaring, Lulling and Making Mock by Marina Warner, Vintage, pb., $24.95, 435 pp. Reviewed by Heather Nix Short narrative forms such as fairy tale, myth, legend and fable along with the process of their oral-telling are the foundations on which young children become acculturated. They are also the foundations on which our imaginations grow and how we perceive what is real - and unreal. And so, into our minds - and popular culture - the bogeyman creeps, in one guise or another giving our fears a face and a form. Marina Warner's No Go the Bogeyman is all about fear and how the act of scaring, lulling and making mock helps us to cope with anxieties. It is also a collection of stories about the bogeys who materialise fear in some kind of living shape, about their character and their ways. Drawing from a broad range of material that includes art, music, literature and film its eclecticism reflects the surprising variety and ingenuity of the methods used to deal with fear. Scaring … In playing the age-old game of Peek-a-Boo with a very young infant not only do we introduce them to fear, but pleasure also; of fearful surprise on the infant's face, followed (hopefully) by a broadening smile as they realise that the fear is unfounded. The contradictory nature of fear and pleasure underlies Part One of No Go the Bogeyman as Warner examines why it is we find so much pleasure in monsters, ogres, and beasts who kill and eat human flesh. That pleasure, she suggests, is founded in Greek mythology; the flesh-eating Cyclops Polyphemus and the monster Scylla, both of whom foreshadow the development of the monstrous in literature and art. Whether it be ogres, monsters, giants, devils, witches or vampires, the cannibalistic impulse in the cultural imaginary remains today as it did in fifth century BC. Warner suggests that classic and contemporary literature, film, and art produce overriding images of survival where: food¾procuring it, preparing it, cooking it, eating it¾dominates…consuming it offers contradictory metaphors of life and civilization as well as barbarity and extinction. Goya's “Black Paintings”, 1822-23, which Warner suggests may have hung in his dining room, exemplifies this. Reflecting on Goya's painting, and the usual title ascribed to it, “Saturn Devouring his Son”, (or, as Warner suggests, his daughter), the author goes on to suggest Goya's savage ogre “is a fore runner of the Bluebeards of fairy tale”, whose appetites metaphorically consume women. Lulling … “Lullabies are related to work songs, spinning songs, shanties (and) chain-gang songs” as it is generally the mother's job, through the act of lulling, to help the baby on its journey from the glimmer of a doze to the mystery zone of sleep and dreams. But, as Warner points out, the boundaries of that journey are always marked for the safe return of the infant. Quoting Gilles Deleuze and Felix Guattari, Warner claims: chants, snatches of song, Muzak, humming to oneself as one works … serve to mark the boundaries, as stones do. They mention lullabies, for these songs are often the first way the edges of a world are fumbled out for a newborn by a mother. Space and time coincide in the lullaby as the mother sings of a time present, and of a future. Thus, the act of lulling implies that a number of double narratives exist; the relationship of the singer to the infant and, within the words - another story; the doubling of the narrative voice for the lullaby not only sings to the child, but can also sing for the child, as if in the child's voice; and finally, the bogeys who make their first appearance in a child's imagination in lullabies that conjure them up at the very moment of placating them. The antithesis between lulling and terror in No Go the Bogeyman see-saws between the imagination and the rendering of factual material. Warner's cornerstone in understanding this antithesis is the depiction, in art, of Herod's massacre of innocent babes. Warner perceptively draws on a sixteenth-century painting by Caravaggio. “The Rest on the Flight from Egypt” depicts Mary at peace, with babe in arms, while Joseph holds a musical score for an angel playing a violin. The music, Warner states, is “mournful, solemn, stately, slow and 'liturgical'”; the rhythm is very steady and would lull. She discusses a number of other paintings from around the same period that depict women lulling their babes shortly before fleeing in terror as Herod's “Bogeys” carry out his orders. In setting her own cornerstone Warner removes the stones that mark the boundaries around the cradle to lay bare the act of lulling, and all that occurs beyond the boundaries; beyond the relationship between mother and child to the “infuriated singer of a cradle song (or nursery rhyme) summoning the monster or bogeyman to work on her behalf”: Baby, baby, naughty baby, Hush you squalling thing, I say. Peace this moment, peace, or maybe Bonaparte will pass this way. And he'll beat you, beat you, beat you, And he'll beat you all to pap, And he'll eat you eat you, eat you, Every morsel, snap, snap, snap. Despite the grim nature of these rhymes Warner suggests they should be viewed with sympathy. “More often than not, the songs are filled with the difficulties of mothering … [and] they catch the tension and the exhaustion of dependency - maternal ambivalence”. Making Mock … Part Three of No Go the Bogeyman considers the act of making mock and how humour “can assert itself against the unkindness of real circumstance”. Mocking and humour are the head and tail of Warner's reading of our fascination with the monstrous and grotesque. A workable and helpful definition, she suggests, is that “one belongs to the order of representation; the other to the order of nature”. Warner's distinction between the two finds its origins in the mythological Circe who enchanted men and turned them into beastly followers with the body of a man and the head of a beast, resulting in a generic disorder to the natural world. But it was Gryllus who willingly shunned the “natural” world and chose to fall under Circe's power so he too could have the pleasure of her company. It is not difficult to see how Gryllus' desire to reclaim value for the beastly “selves” is closely related to the beast in all animal fables, the beast with human qualities in fairy tale, and bestial metamorphosis in literature, and in film. Lewis Carroll's Gryphon and Mock Turtle are mentioned as being the most “eloquent modern exponents” of Circean tradition that sport “with nature and the pleasures that beasts and monsters can inspire”. Not only does Warner contextualise fear within the acts of scaring, lulling and making mock, but she also contextualises our understanding of the history and development of myth, legend, fable, and fairy tale within popular culture. As for “Going Bananas” - I suggest you read that chapter for yourself. Heather Nix recently completed her PhD in Creative writing. She has an interest in short form narratives and early childhood learning.