The Materialism of Death: A Mini-Essay

     Westward expansion in the United States during the nineteenth century, Philippe Ariès explains, brought a unique written element to death. Although penned personal accounts of death are not a new occurrence, this mass migration, coupled with rising literacy rates, birthed a trail of recorded reports that literally followed the western routes. As individuals and entire families left behind friends and relatives to venture into newer territories, they maintained a line of communication through letters which chronicled the lives and deaths of settlers and those that remained in the northern and southern states.[1] What resulted, Ariès claims, is an extensive written record of death unseen until this point in history. Yet, personal letters detailing the deaths of loved ones both at home in civilization and away in the unsettled regions were not the only material modes of death produced in the nineteenth-century United States. Consolation literature, from Agnes and the Key of Her Little Coffin (1837) and Stepping Heaven-ward (1869) to Our Children in Heaven (1870) and The Empty Crib (1873), emerged from clergymen and women who had lost a beloved somebody, often a child, and offered, in their exceedingly sentimentalized depictions of death, a consolation to the writer and the reader.[2] In addition to consolation literature, death also entered mass consumption through mourning pictures – embroideries, engravings, and paintings displayed in the home that presenting highly romanticized scenes of grief (a young woman, for instance, pressing a locket to her lips as she stares sorrowfully at the moon while she weeps) – and commemorative jewelry – brooches, necklaces, and pendants which began in the late sixteenth century as miniature tombs and skeletons and shifted in the nineteenth century to encasements for locks of the deceased’s hair.[3]

Works Referenced

Ariès, Philippe. The Hour of Our Death: The Classic History of Western Attitudes Toward Death Over the Last One Thousand Years. 1977. Trans. Helen Weaver. New York: Barnes and Noble Books, 2000.

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[1] Ariès, 446-450.

[2] Ariès, 450-454.

[3] Ariès, 451-462.

Dr. Victor’s Magical Elixirs

$20 - $25 (based on 2020 prices)

Makes six bottles

 

To play on the mad scientist theme for 2020’s haunt, I decided to create a collection of elixirs to scatter throughout the shelves and tables of the laboratory. I wanted the props to be reminiscent of the cure-all potions traveling salesmen peddled in the nineteenth century, so I used amber bottles similar to vintage medicine containers and crafted colorful wax seals with hot glue.

• Six thirty-two-ounce amber bottles (you can decrease or increase this number)
• Six miniature plastic skulls
• Hot glue gun and glue sticks
• One 0.44 oz. bottle of nail polish in glossy black
• One 0.44 oz. bottle of nail polish in glossy green
• One 0.44 oz. bottle of nail polish in glossy purple
• One 0.44 oz. bottle of nail polish in glossy pink
• One 0.44 oz. bottle of nail polish in metallic gold
• One 0.44 oz. bottle of nail polish in metallic silver
• One piece of 8” x 11.5” copy paper with elixir labels printed on it
• At least four tablespoons of black tea (e.g. Darjeeling, Earl Gray, English Breakfast, etc.)
• One pan large enough to soak the copy paper
• One 4 oz. bottle of all-purpose tacky glue*

1. Thoroughly wash and dry the jars. If there is any sticker residue, use rubbing alcohol to remove it (soak a paper towel in the solution, let it sit over the area for a few minutes, and wipe away the remaining glue).

2. Remove the mandibles from the skulls so they sit level atop the bottles’ openings. To aid in this process, purchase items made with a thin plastic and use a pair of kitchen sheers to make the cuts.

3. Position the skulls on the lips of the bottles’ openings and glue them in place. Prior to doing this, you can fill the containers with various items, from colored sand to small marbles, to correspond with the elixirs.

4. Fashion wax seals by building up layers of hot glue around the skulls. The process works best if you move in stages, applying one layer at a time and allowing the glue to cool between applications. Also, you want to ensure that the skulls’ facial features are not wholly obscured by the glue, so pipe drips of glue down the sides and onto the bottles.

5. To make the seals look waxy, cover each one in two or three even coats of glossy nail polish. You can use one distinct hue for a unified look or, as I did, select a unique color for each bottle to correspond with its elixir.

6. Boil enough water to completely submerge the copy paper and pour it into the pan. Add the tea. The longer you allow the tea to brew, the darker the stain will become. Likewise, greater amounts of tea will produce a richer stain. I found that a combination of English and Irish Breakfast brewed for over ten minutes produces a nice, deep brown. Submerge the paper into the tea mixture and soak it until it reaches the color you desire. I soaked mine for eight hours and scattered the loose-leaf tea over the top of the paper to add spots. Remove the paper from the water and allow it to dry.

7. After the paper has dried, cut out the labels, leaving a small boarder around their edges. To roughen the labels’ appearance, use sandpaper to fray their sides and create holes. You can also crumple the paper to produce creases.

8. Once you have achieved your desired level of distress, glue the labels to the sides of the bottles. You can use olive or vegetable oil to add further stains. I discovered that applying a small amount of oil to your index finger and patting it on the paper works well.

9. The bottles can be enhanced even further to cater the props to your haunt. For instance, bloody or slimy hand prints can complement a gory theme or a dusting of glittery spray paint can emphasize a more whimsical motif.

*You will not use the entire bottle’s content for this project.

“My Days Among the Dead Are Past” (A Poem)

In 1818, English poet Robert Southey commented on the life of the scholar, remarking the intellectual, in his pursuit of knowledge, is constantly locked away in libraries surrounded by the works of dead thinkers.[1] While Southey finds comfort in this factor, attesting to the companionship and morality of these deceased authors, he provides an intriguing (and often overlooked) glimpse into the realm of academia: the Burkean engagement with conversations started and perpetuated by long-since-gone scholars (and the act of joining those ranks to future intellectuals after one’s passing).[2]

My days among the Dead are past;

Around me I behold,

Where’er these casual eyes are cast,

The mighty minds of old;

My never-failing friends are they,

With whom I converse day by day.

 

With them I take delight in weal,

And seek relief in woe;

And while I understand and feel

How much to them I owe,

My cheeks have often been bedew’d

With tears of thoughtful gratitude.

 

My thoughts are with the Dead; with them

I live in long-past years,

Their virtues love, their faults condemn,

Partake their hopes and fears,

And from their lessons seek and find

Instruction with an humble mind.

 

My hopes are with the Dead; anon

My place with them will be,

And I with them shall travel on

Through all Futurity;

Yet leaving here a name, I trust,

That will not perish in the dust.[3]

 

Works Referenced

 

Pratt, Lynda, ed. Robert Southey: Poetical Works, 1793-1810. London: Routledge, 2016.

 

Southey, Robert. “My Days Among the Dead Are Past.” Poems of Robert Southey. London: Macmillan and Company, 1895. 1-2.

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[1] Pratt, xxi.

[2] Pratt, xxi-xxii.

[3] Southey, 1-2.

Bat Specimen

$15 - $20 (based on 2019 prices)

Makes one frame

 

Part of 2019’s twisted carnival theme involved Dr. Victor’s Oddity Museum, a collection of bizarre artifacts meant to resemble the curiosity exhibits customary in turn-of-the-century travelling shows. To achieve this, I crafted a bevy of familiar oddities, from mummified mermaids to shrunken heads. For this particular build, I wanted several animal specimens to adorn the walls and add further detail and interest to the scene. Since then, the prop has proven surprisingly versatile, finding its way into 2020’s mad scientist laboratory and also in a witch-themed display.

• One 11” x 14” wooden frame
• One 10 oz. can of interior/exterior, fast-drying spray paint in flat black*
• One 10 oz. can of interior/exterior, fast-drying spray paint in flat brown*
• One piece of tabloid-sized paper with vintage bat illustrations printed on it
• One piece of 8” x 11.5” copy paper with specimen labels printed on it
• At least four tablespoons of dark roasted coffee grounds
• One pan large enough to soak the paper
• One 4 oz. bottle of all-purpose tacky glue*
• One small plastic bat skeleton
• One 8 oz. can of oil-based interior wood stain in red chestnut*

1. Remove the backing and glass from the frame and, on a newspaper-lined surface in a well-ventilated area, dust the item with a light coat of black and brown spray paint. To give the appearance of dirt, hold the can over twelve inches away from the frame and make quick flicking motions. You can also apply a flecking of black paint and smears of brown paint to enhance the weathered patina.

2. On a newspaper-lined surface in a well-ventilated area, give the backing an even coat of black spray paint. Although this step is optional, it will enhance the aesthetic by allowing a darkened background to show behind the holes created in step four.

3. Boil enough water to completely submerge the paper and pour it into the pan. Add the coffee. The longer you allow the coffee to brew, the darker the stain will become. Likewise, greater amounts of coffee will produce a richer stain. Submerge the paper in the coffee mixture and soak it until it reaches the color you desire. I soaked mine for four days and scattered the coffee grounds over the top to add spots. Remove the paper from the water and allow it to dry.

4. After the paper has dried, roughen it with sandpaper to create holes and crumple it to produce creases. Once you have achieved your desired level of distress, glue the paper to the backing. You can use olive or vegetable oil to add further stains. I discovered that applying a small amount of oil to your index finger and patting it on the paper works well.

5. On a newspaper-lined surface in a well-ventilated area, stain the skeleton. I began by giving it a light, even coat with a foam brush. After that, I applied heavy amounts of stain to the ends and patted away the excess with paper towels. You want the color to build up in the cracks and fissures. Although you may use whatever color of stain you desire, I chose red chestnut because it gives the bones a fresh, meaty appearance. Once you have achieved your intended look, allow the skeleton to completely dry. I let mine sit outside in the sun for three days.

6. Center the skeleton on the backing and glue it in place. For a sturdier hold, consider using superglue. Also, to enhance the visual appeal, position the bat upside down, as it would normally hang while resting or sleeping.

7. Repeat the processes in steps three and four to coffee stain a specimen label for the prop and adhere it to the backing just below the bat’s head. For the time-pressed haunter, it may prove easier and more efficient to print the label on the side of the tabloid-sized paper and stain everything all at once, removing the label during step four and setting it aside until step seven.

8. Reattach the backing to the frame. If you plan to display the prop outside in windy conditions, consider gluing the backing in place for additional support. You can also fabricate a loop with steel wire or utilize a store-bought version to hang the prop on a wall.

*You will not use the entire bottle’s content for this project.