Undiscovered country: 'The Devil’s Atlas' by Edward Brooke-Hitching – Book Recommendation

 

Since we’re all going to die, some sort of travel guide to the hereafter would be useful. But unfortunately, it’s a one-way trip, and no one’s ever come back to tell us what it’s like. Except possibly the prophet Mohammed. There are no Trip Advisor reviews. So we just have speculation and interpretation. It’s not the best, really. If it weren’t for its inevitability, I might not bother with death. At least you know what you’re likely to get on this side of things. Well, sort of. On the other hand, maybe a gamble might be worthwhile? Could it really be worse there than here? I guess that depends…

In this excellent volume, Edward Brooke-Hitching examines the multifarious ways in which the afterlife has been perceived, interpreted, and generally anticipated across different cultures and ages. Like most things in life, opinions vary widely and wildly on this subject; moreover, there are lots of levels in the hereafter. And you thought class structures wouldn’t prevail in the next world... In fact, certain ideologies posit the idea that hell is organised in a manner akin to earthly human constructs, with borders and politicians (there’s a grand chancellor of hell according to a nineteenth-century French demonologist). What, for all eternity? We don’t have to vote as well, do we? Hell indeed. Brooke-Hitching explains that Chinese hell is quite bureaucratic, including offices and petitioning officials, complete with admin issues. So, in other words, it’s like dealing with any government department in this life. We’ll all be well prepared, then.

above: The Devil brandishing a writ after suing Christ for trespassing into hell. There's something odd and not a little disturbing going on in the nether regions of the demon in front of him as well.

Brooke-Hitching leads us through all sorts of hellish landscapes, including the cold hell of Norse mythology and an ancient Egyptian netherworld containing baboons that cut the heads off the unwary. The ancient Egyptians also believed you might end up walking upside down on the flat disc of the earth after death, a position that would reverse your digestion, resulting in you pooing out of your mouth. Islamic hell may involve sinners suffering swollen genitals oozing pus, inducing others in their vicinity to vomit. There’s actually a Pus Master demon in Mayan mythology. I think we’re starting to see a theme developing here.

Lest you think corporal punishment ought, surely, to be ineffective after death, we are told that, according to medieval Christian theologians, ‘the soul has a physical being in the afterlife’, which obviously means you can and will experience every possible bodily torment if you’ve been extremely naughty or downright wicked in the earthly realm. Mind you, this physical aspect of the next world may have its advantages if you’ve been good. You could experience the sensual delights of the Islamic paradise of Jannah, or, if you were an Egyptian pharaoh in this life (I appreciate this is unlikely these days), you would (after becoming a star) get the chance to hunt and then eat the gods. You might even end up in Cockaigne, a paradise dreamt up in medieval times, where work is forbidden and gluttony and idleness are the order of the day forever and ever, with wine endlessly pouring forth, houses made out of food, and cheese raining from the sky. Everyone gets paid to sleep and, incidentally, nuns parade their bottoms. Whilst I’m not sure about the last bit, I quite like the sound of Cockaigne, and I might plump for that one if given a choice about where I end up. Not that I will be, obvs (or will I?). We also learn that St. Augustine of Hippo confirmed there would be no flatulence in heaven, and St. Benedict didn’t think there’d be any laughter, either. Well, if no one farts, that’s basically humour disappeared, isn’t it? How extremely boring. I suppose you’d have to spend your time gazing at all the precious stones that seem to be a feature of many paradises, although quite what use they’d be in the afterlife, I don’t know. This is the thing, of course—it’s very difficult to envisage what the hereafter might be like without resorting to sensory stuff. Despite this, many artists from many cultures over many centuries have endeavoured to depict the denizens of heavens, hells, and the bits in between reserved for those of indeterminate virtue. The Devil’s Atlas is thus beautifully illustrated throughout, charting humanity’s attempts at visualising its ever-changing ideas about what we might expect in the next life. It’s all about, as Brooke-Hitching writes, ‘mapping the unmappable and painting the indescribable, to explore the unexplorable’. However, the author considers that ultimately accepting ‘the impenetrable veil of the mystery’ can inspire vivid and beautiful expression in itself, and he cites one of the best-known passages by the Venerable Bede to illustrate the point, of which I shall provide a slightly extended version, as it is rather lovely:

‘The present life of man upon earth, O King, seems to me in comparison with that time which is unknown to us like the swift flight of a sparrow through the mead-hall where you sit at supper in winter, with your Ealdormen and thanes, while the fire blazes in the midst and the hall is warmed, but the wintry storms of rain or snow are raging abroad. The sparrow, flying in at one door and immediately out at another, whilst he is within, is safe from the wintry tempest, but after a short space of fair weather, he immediately vanishes out of your sight, passing from winter to winter again. So this life of man appears for a little while, but of what is to follow or what went before we know nothing at all.’

 Indeed.

The Devil’s Atlas by Edward Brooke-Hitching ISBN: 9781398503557