Hardcore death talk

Saint-Saëns Danse Macabre is a somewhat sterile version of the “Dance of Death”. In this version death shows up at midnight on Halloween and calls all the other dead folk together for a party.

There doesn’t appear to be an agenda for this party. It’s kind of the Electric Daisy Carnival but for skeletons and with fewer droppings of the beat and less “molly.” Mescaline doesn’t do much when there’s no central nervous system to manipulate.

The dead don’t get high.

Few are impressed with Saint-Saëns’ little tea party for the dead. It’s far from his best work. What I am impressed with is the tradition of the Dance of Death. The tradition goes a little bit like this.

“Hey, you’re gonna to die.”

The dance is an allegory for the fact that we are all going to die. Death calls each of us to dance. The tradition goes back to the 15th century in Europe. Death invites different characters from that society to dance and then gives them a little lesson in humility.

To the emperor, Death says, “Emperor, your sword won't help you out. Sceptre and crown are worthless here. I've taken you by the hand for you must come to my dance.”

Death talks to dozens of characters such as the Pope, a peasant, a maiden, a baby, a cleric, a priest. They’re all dead now, as is Saint-Saëns. This death stuff really works.

Since we’re on the subject, I’m going to mention what I think to be the most chilling depiction of death speaking. The Bhagavad Gita was written down somewhere between 2200 and 2400 years ago. How old the oral tradition was is unclear.

During the course of their pre-battle conversation, Krishna tells Arjuna:

“I am time, the destroyer of all; I have come to consume the world. Even without your participation, all the warriors gathered here will die. Therefor arise, Arjuna; conquer your enemies and enjoy the glory of sovereignty. I have already slain all these warriors; you will only be my instrument...Kill those whom I have killed. Do not hesitate. Fight in this battle and you will conquer your enemies.”

No wonder Robert Oppenheimer thought of this passage when he saw the first atomic bomb detonation. However, Oppenheimer only mentioned the first sentence and spared us the terrifying sentiment of the rest of the passage. That was considerate of him. He's dead, too.

“Kill those whom I have killed. Do not hesitate.” That’s some hardcore death talk.

Maybe Saint-Saëns’ little dance isn’t so bad after all.