Kiwi death rites

From an article in Stuff.co.nz:

New Zealanders may be shy and reserved, but we hold long, personalised funerals for our loved ones, and show far more emotion than Norwegians, Swedes, English and Scots.

Our funerals lean towards the American style, where everything – down to the cup of tea and biscuits afterwards – is organised by a funeral home.

Auckland researcher Sally Raudon, with the assistance of a Winston Churchill Memorial Trust grant, researched death, dying and funerals in New Zealand, and the four other countries.

The results were surprising, given the perceived similarities between the countries, particularly when it came to the time between death and a funeral.

In New Zealand funerals generally happen about three to five days after someone has died.

In England one to three weeks is the norm, and in Stockholm, Sweden, the average interval between death and the funeral is five to six weeks.

And the Swedish do not embalm, she said.

“We embalm almost automatically. That’s because a lot of our funeral directors went to the US in the middle of last century and came back with these techniques to be more professional.”

In New Zealand many people speak, and most ceremonies last about an hour. “When we have a funeral it is not uncommon for someone from the family to talk, maybe a work colleague, someone from a sports club. Sometimes it is like an open mic session. And if it is a young person who has died, it’s common for up to 12 people to talk,” Raudon said.

“Our funerals are very unusual because we focus intimately on the person. New Zealand funerals often bring together all the parts of someone’s life to present a biography.

“We think things like using a celebrant, showing photos of the person and having several people speaking, are normal. But that isn’t what happens in other countries.”

“In Norway and Sweden using photos is frowned on as too personal, and in England they say they don’t have time for that kind of personalisation.

Raudon said there was now a trend in New Zealand at the other end of the emotional scale – direct disposal – where a person could request they be put in a plain casket and taken directly to be cremated, without a funeral service or viewing.

Tamara Linnhoff of the Good Funeral Guide NZ here tells me in an email that  “NZ is still way behind the UK in terms of talking openly about funeral wishes and so the vast majority of families make decisions guided by traditional funeral directors.” 

Find the Stuff.co.nz article here.

Philosophy and death

Posted by Vale

Yale University is starting to experiment with free open access video based learning.

One of the courses it’s offering is run by Shelley Kagan who is Clark Professor of Philosophy at the University. It’s all about death. This is the course introduction:

There is one thing I can be sure of: I am going to die. But what am I to make of that fact? This course will examine a number of issues that arise once we begin to reflect on our mortality. The possibility that death may not actually be the end is considered. Are we, in some sense, immortal? Would immortality be desirable? Also a clearer notion of what it is to die is examined. What does it mean to say that a person has died? What kind of fact is that? And, finally, different attitudes to death are evaluated. Is death an evil? How? Why? Is suicide morally permissible? Is it rational? How should the knowledge that I am going to die affect the way I live my life?

There are 26 lectures published as videos online. You can find them here.

If you are a reader rather than a watcher. Professor Kagan also asks the question ‘Is Death Bad for you’ in an essay published in the – online – Chronicle of Higher Education. This gives you a flavour of the discussion:

People sometimes respond that death isn’t bad for the person who is dead. Death is bad for the survivors. But I don’t think that can be central to what’s bad about death. Compare two stories.

Story 1. Your friend is about to go on the spaceship that is leaving for 100 Earth years to explore a distant solar system. By the time the spaceship comes back, you will be long dead. Worse still, 20 minutes after the ship takes off, all radio contact between the Earth and the ship will be lost until its return. You’re losing all contact with your closest friend.

Story 2. The spaceship takes off, and then 25 minutes into the flight, it explodes and everybody on board is killed instantly.

Story 2 is worse. But why? It can’t be the separation, because we had that in Story 1. What’s worse is that your friend has died. Admittedly, that is worse for you, too, since you care about your friend. But that upsets you because it is bad for her to have died. But how can it be true that death is bad for the person who dies?

You can find the essay here. Worth reading.

Thank God for secularism

Posted by our religious correspondent, Richard Rawlinson

RR writes: I had planned to discuss funerals in Islamic cultures, but concluded anyone interested could find such information elsewhere. See link to 10 Muslim Funeral Traditions here:

Instead, I want to address concerns about Islam’s conflict with faith-tolerating, secular society. This is not about funerals per se, but it’s waving the flag for freedom in a forum that celebrates choice in the field of secular and religious funerals.

A few years ago, I worked for a time as an expat in the Middle East, where I interviewed for the Catholic Herald the Bishop of Arabia about the struggle to attain the same religious freedoms for Christians in Arab nations that Muslims enjoy elsewhere in the world. A few weeks ago, an Arab friend I met in the region visited me in London, and conversation turned to grief between Islam and the West.

As he drank my wine, he described himself as a moderate-but-observant Muslim who admittedly lapsed on some observances. He said he was offended by the way, since 9/11/01, Islam has been defined by despotism, claiming the West is demonising his faith as purely radical, and thus impeding progress in battling terrorism – effectively consigning us to a state of permanent war with the world’s billion-plus Muslims.

I replied by asking him if he would support the battle against terrorism by speaking out against the uses of the Quran for radical purposes. After all, he perceived himself to be a Muslim who embraced our freedom culture, for whom sharia is a matter of private belief, not public mission. Yet he stuck to the line that the West was inflaming the ‘Arab Street’, and seemed reluctant to link ‘real’ Islam with regarding women as chattel; killing those who apostasise from Islam; institutionalising religious intolerance in society, or regarding Jews as subhuman.

The problem is that while moderate Muslims are a reality, they are often in denial that Islam itself is in conflict with secular society, because it’s not merely a religious doctrine, but is a comprehensive socio-economic and political system whose tenets are fundamentally at odds with democracy.

Almost from the beginning, the West has tempered religion by acknowledging the legitimacy of secular institutions, thus making space for individual freedom.

Like Communism, Islam doesn’t ‘render unto Caesar the things that are Caesar’s’ but rather aims to control the state without being subject to it. By insisting on the submission of everything to the will of Allah, they end up with the Taliban, Iranian Mullahs and al Qaeda.

All religions are exclusive, but Islam almost immediately developed into a state which seemed to be all of a piece with the religion. The Koran is its spiritual and secular book of law – Allah’s personal word, with orders that need to be fulfilled regardless of place or time. Then there’s Muhammad, a warlord who is nevertheless deemed the perfect human role model.

In his book America Alone, Mark Steyn says we have three options: 1) capitulate to Islam, 2) wage all-out war against it, 3) it undergoes a reformation and enlightenment, retaining its name but eschewing its political substance. With 1) and 2) being unacceptable and horrific, is the best way to achieve 3) accommodation or resistance?

I believe resistance is the best course of action. A concrete theology of moderate Islam does not exist and will have to be created. It will have to be non-literal and reformist, and will have a tough time competing with Islamist ideology, which is anti-constitutional and anti-freedom in many of its core particulars. Instead of letting my friend pretend to be moderate, I’d rather empower him with a clear choice: defend Islamic despotism or man up as a reformer by promoting a coherent, moderate Islam that embraces the West, and in particular the separation of secular public life from privately held religious beliefs.

200 years since our PM was shot

It’s quite a year for anniversaries from the Queen’s Diamond Jubilee to the bicentenary of the birth of Charles Dickens. It’s also a year when deaths are commemorated from Captain Scott’s failed mission to the South Pole in 1912 to the sinking of the Titanic in the same year.

Less well known is that 2012 is the bicentenary of the assassination of Prime Minister Spencer Perceval, shot in the central lobby of the House of Commons on 11 May, 1812, by loan pistolman John Bellingham.

The only British PM to have been assassinated (Margaret Thatcher had a near-miss when the IRA bombed her Brighton hotel during the 1984 Conservative Party conference), Perceval’s political preoccupations bring his era to life.

He witnessed crises including the madness of King George III, economic depression and Luddite riots. He opposed Catholic emancipation and reform of Parliament and supported the abolition of the slave trade. He held hunting, gambling, adultery and drinking in disdain, preferring to spend time with his 12 children.

Perceval also supported the war against Napoleon. With wars popularly marked by anniversaries, it’s also the bicentenary of Napoleon’s failed attempt to invade Russia, his thwarted imperial ambitions notably commemorated by Tolstoy in War and Peace and Tchaikovsky in his 1812 Overture.

Talking of French failure, expect the British media to indulge in a bit of jovial French bashing in 2015 when we mark the 600th anniversary of the Battle of Agincourt and the bicentenary of the Battle of Waterloo.

But anticipate far greater commemoration surrounding the victories, defeats and deaths in battle in 2014 when we have the centenary of the start of WW1 and the 75th anniversary of the start of WWII. I always find it a poignant reminder that there were just 25 years between these wars.

To Spencer Perceval. May he rest in peace (even if he didn’t like Catholics or claret).

 

Norfolk Funerals

Norfolk Funerals, which opened recently, is the UK’s first and only not-for-profit funeral director. It is a charity, based in Norwich, and it offers funerals at cost price for all merchandise plus a fee to cover overheads, running costs and the wages of its employees. 

Eyebrows have been raised. What’s going on here? Why would they want to do this? What’s the real story? Is this some kind of money laundering operation? 

Here at the GFG we’ve had a great many emails and phone calls enquiring about Norfolk Funerals. Misgivings have been voiced, some of them mundane, some exotic. At the same time, we’ve been doing our own due diligence.

With the agreement of Norfolk Funerals, we are offering this page as a place where you can ask questions and have them answered by Norfolk Funerals. 

We hope that this will enable everyone to see NF for what it is. 

Please, ask your question in a comments box below, and Norfolk Funerals will respond directly to it. 

We Believe

A new website has just hit the scene: CommunityFunerals.org.uk. It seeks to develop the concept of a not-for profit community funeral service, and presents for consideration four models of what it calls a Community Funeral Society (CFS). It hopes to grow the idea organically by inviting feedback from its readers, then incorporating their ideas. It’s a collaborative project.

It’s a radical idea. Goodness knows what sort of traction it is going to achieve.

But it arrives on the scene at the same time as two interesting new enterprises.

The first is Norfolk Funerals, the first-ever not-for-profit funeral home in the UK, established by a charitable trust and now open for business. Find its website here. Note: we have received a large number of emails about Norfolk Funerals. Please see the separate blog post dated 11.05.2012, where NF will respond to your queries. 

The second is Powell and Family Direct, which has established itself as a Community Interest Company (CIC). A CIC is a company structure created, according to the website of the CIC Regulator, “for the use of people who want to conduct a business or other activity for community benefit, and not purely for private advantage.”

Find Powell and Family Direct here.

Bryan and Catherine Powell, founders of Powell and Family Funeral Directors and Powell and Family Direct, are hosting an open meeting for all funeral directors interested in remodelling their business as a social enterprise. It’s called Social Enterprise For Funeral Directors, and it’s being held on Saturday 19 May, 11am til 3pm in their Droitwich office at 15 North Street, WR9 8JB. Book your place by ringing 01905 827767, or email bryan.powell@powellandfamily.co.uk.

Is there a wind of change blowing through Funeralworld?

Below is the creed of ComunityFunerals.org.uk. It is titled, appropriately:

We Believe

1.       We believe that customs, practices and attitudes have grown up which isolate and marginalise the dead and the bereaved and must be challenged

2.       We believe that one of the consequences of this marginalisation is that the management of death has become commercial rather than community centred, and that, at a time when people are emotionally and cognitively vulnerable, this causes unease for both the client and, often, for the provider of services

3.       We believe that funeral ceremonies, for those who want one, can and must offer greater emotional and, where appropriate, spiritual value

4.       We believe that everyone should have access to unbiased information and opinion which enable them to make informed, independent choices according to their values and financial circumstances

5.       We believe that funerals must offer better value for money

6.       We believe that many bereaved people need access to a range of practical and emotional support services which the commercial model struggles to accommodate at present.

7.       We believe that these needs can be met only if the work of specialist support agencies is augmented by collaborative, compassionate community engagement in the form of volunteering

8.       We believe that most of the tasks funeral directors undertake are not specialist tasks at all and can be undertaken by ordinary people

9.       We believe that, as longevity progressively alters the experience of ageing and medical interventions protract the experience of dying, we must find new and better ways of addressing them

10.   We believe that denialist attitudes to ageing and dying are rooted in fear, that this fear is rooted in ignorance, and that fear can be mitigated by knowledge and understanding

11.   We believe that attitudes to ageing, dying and death must be restored to emotional health in such a way as to reflect their normality and naturalness

12.   We believe that communities are brought together when impelled by duty, altruism and self-interest. It is in our interest to help others because, in time, we shall need them to help us. It is also very satisfying

13.   We believe that many people playing small parts, according to their abilities, makes us more effective

14.   We believe that communities must host conversations and encourage educational initiatives about end-of-life matters among people of all ages, and that these activities are best initiated and hosted by informed, ordinary community members

15.   We believe that there are organisational and financial models that are inclusive, secure and affordable and which are flexible enough to adapt to local circumstances. We have called these Community Funeral Societies.

Find CommunityFunerals.org.uk here.

Thoughts of a funeral-goer

 

Posted by Lyra Mollington

 

Nearly twelve years ago, I was with my grandchildren in the queue for the newly opened London Eye when we saw an elderly man collapse.  Paramedics arrived quickly but by the time the man was lifted onto a stretcher, a blanket had been pulled over his head.  It took me a few seconds to realise the implications of this. 

In the intervening years I have often thought about that balmy summer evening.  I wondered whether his family, having recovered from the initial shock, had been able to accept that there are (much) worse ways to go.  Perhaps they shared what had happened at his funeral.  Something like, ‘He’d had a brilliant day out with everyone he loved most in the world.  And we all know what he would be saying to us now: “After queuing for an hour, we were nearly at the front.  Why on earth didn’t you go on the Ruddy Wheel?”’

From the funerals I’ve attended, it seems that information is hardly ever given about how the person died; apart from being solemnly told that she/he passed away peacefully in her/his sleep.  Understandably we are kept in the dark when there are unpleasant details.  Few would want to know that their neighbour was discovered dead on the toilet, however painless and quick her death may have been.  Or, even worse, that the body wasn’t discovered for several days, but at least her beloved cats didn’t go hungry.

We were told by the vicar at one funeral, ‘On the morning Charlie passed away he was looking forward, as always, to the regular visit from his great friend Derek.  He was up and about, clean shaven and smartly dressed, with a couple of tots of whisky ready for Derek’s arrival.’ 

Everyone agreed that this was what Charlie would have wanted.  But afterwards Derek told us that the vicar had missed out the bit that Charlie would have loved the most.  After nearly jumping out of his skin, Derek downed the contents of both whisky glasses, having carefully prised one of them out of Charlie’s hand.

Lilian, a dear friend of mine, insisted that the clergyman tell the story of how her 95 year old mother had died during a singing session at the care home.  Lil’s mum had been joining in with gusto all afternoon.  When the other residents had retired to their rooms, one of the assistants discovered the old lady slumped in her chair, slightly warm but extremely dead.  Lil was shocked but she soon started saying that this was ‘the perfect way to go,’ and that her mum had died ‘with her boots on’.  Or, strictly speaking, her orthopaedic Velcro slip-ons.

Another friend was proud to inform everyone that her husband had collapsed and died whilst buying a present for their granddaughter in ‘an independent book shop’.  For years she had worried herself sick that he would die face down in the gutter as he staggered home from his local. 

The widow of a chap who died half way round the golf course asked one of his golfing chums, Maurice, to read the eulogy.  He began, ‘Jack had been playing really well that fateful day.  He said he’d never felt happier and that when we got back to the clubhouse he was going to buy everyone in the bar a drink.’ At this point, Maurice lowered his voice.  With a straight face and through gritted teeth he continued, ‘There and then, I KNEW he was a goner.’

The Who famously sang, ‘I hope I die before I get old.’ Well I hope I die before I get too decrepit and in such a way that my family are able to say at my funeral, ‘She died happy, with her walking boots on.’

 

Communityfunerals.org.uk

 

 

We apologise for pulling the post on CommunityFunerals.org.uk without explanation. The website came under sustained and relentless attack from YouKnowWho. Normal service will be resumed as soon as possible. At this moment, 23 men in oily overalls and bearing large spanners are working round the clock, without breaks, to restore the site. 

All shall be well, and all shall be be well and all manner of thing, etc. 

The team at the GFG-Batesville Tower

 

Alexander McQueen: a commentary on death and decay

Phoebe Hoare, who’s put some really good things our way, suggests it’s time we did something on Alexander McQueen, the fashion designer. She’s quite right. It’s not as if his work does not dwell and brood on death, dying, mortality and moral blackness.

Before becoming a student at Central St Martin’s, McQueen cut his teeth as a Savile Row tailor. There, he made suits for the nobility and gentry. He made a suit of clothes for the Prince of Wales and, on the back of the lining of one of the sleeves, wrote in biro:  ‘I am a c**t’.

He was fearless about flabbergasting people. He wanted people to leave his shows vomiting with shock and gagging for his clothes — and they did. His graduate show at Central St Martin’s was titled Jack the Ripper Stalks his Victims and featured a frock coat with human hair between the fabric and the lining.  Throughout his life he carried on giving his adoring public more of the same — Gothic horror and much else.

Zoe Blackler, writer and journalist, says of him: “In McQueen’s world, an exuberant dress of cut flowers becomes a commentary on death and decay. A sculpted dress of black-dyed duck feathers recalls a raven, another deathly image, while accessories evoke the sadomasochistic. And yet, even at their darkest, his creations are never less than beautiful. ‘I find beauty in the grotesque,’ he said. ‘I have to force people to look at things.’” [Source]

Of a jacket embroidered with an image of the crucified Christ, he said: “That’s how I see human life, in the same way. …You know, we can all be discarded quite easily. … You’re there, you’re gone.”

And so he was. He killed himself in 2010, nine days after the death of his mother.

Was he a genius? Not in the opinion of Toby Young:  “Not a “genius”, unless by that you mean a gift for self-presentation.” But many would disagree. Compare him with YBAs (Young British Artists) like Damian Hirst and that tent woman. He was streets ahead.

Or was he? You decide for yourself.There’s a good series of photos from the Metropolitan Museum of Art’s 2011 show Savage Beauty here.

There’s a good survey of his oeuvre here.

To Know Him Is To Love Him

A bit of funerary scholarship from the sagacious Vale

Of borderline relevance only to funeralists, perhaps – but the title of the song was taken by Phil Spector, who produced it, from the inscription on his father’s headstone. It’s unlikely that the same words will adorn Phil’s.

Older readers will enjoy the nostalgia jolt produced by this (perhaps).

Musing on Spector’s dazzling career, one calls to mind the hit he produced for the Righteous Brothers, You’ve Lost That Lovin’ Feelin’. Change lovin’ to livin’ and you see how close the song got to being a firm funeral favourite.

You never close your eyes anymore when I kiss your lips.
And there’s no tenderness like before in your fingertips.
You’re trying hard not to show it, (baby).
But baby, baby I know it…

You’ve lost that livin’ feeling,
Whoa, that livin’ feeling,
You’ve lost that livin’ feeling,
Now it’s gone…gone…gone…wooooooh.