Last month we commented on a story from Italy about burglars disabling their victims with narcotic sprays. Italian ufologist and folklorist Edoardo Russo assures us that such incidents really happen (see Letter). Now we have similar reports from South Africa. According to The Sunday Telegraph (30 July 2000) housebreakers in Durban use a concoction made from ingredients including hyenas' tails to "smoke out their victims' houses before ransacking them as their occupants lie unconscious". These burglaries take place in Durban's "wealthy white suburbs". Now we don't know what to believe about such stories.
Stanley L. Jaki. God and the Sun at Fatima, Real View Books, 1999
Stanley Jaki's books have long impressed me. They are invariably so
erudite that, even if you disagree with him, you can't help but learn many
facts and insights from reading him. The news that he had come out with a
book on Fatima was especially welcome. The literature I had seen on it
always had a sensationalistic attitude and there was absolutely no care to
sift fact from fiction. Jaki has done this immense task. We finally find
gathered here the first-person testimonies of people present at the
miracle of the sun on 13 October 1917. They are given a first-rate
dissection along standard historical principles - the earliest accounts
are given greatest weight, the credentials of the witnesses are assessed,
the differences are scrutinised with an eye to their possible utility or
harm in understanding what happened. He offers spirited commentary over
earlier interpretations and offers a hypothesis about what may have
happened that day.
One feature Jaki repeatedly points out about the event
is that while it is undeniable that tens of thousands were present, there
was an embarrassing indifference among Fatima devotees to gather testimony
of the miracle concerning the sun. A commission studying for 8 years the
Marian apparitions of the children looked into the credentials of the
trustworthiness of the children, their parents, and relatives, but
contained not one word on the miracle involving the falling sun. The Voice
of Fatima devoted to spreading the message of Fatima published hundreds of
issues in the 1930s but barely mentioned the solar miracle in any of its
issues. One of the first books devoted to Fatima has the unlikely seeming title of
The Miraculous Cloud of Fume. The author was obsessed by some wisps of
smoke present at the various apparitions that he deemed beyond natural
explanation.
This baffling inattention and silence on what is now regarded
as one of the most puzzling mysteries in the museum of Fortean oddities -
it has even been improbably called the greatest UFO case of all time -
drives Jaki to distraction. Isn't it the duty of all responsible
intellectuals to ascertain the facts of an event? Gather the witnesses,
push for details, probe, get the precise meanings of what they said.
Little of this happened. It was decades before any concerted push for
testimony was made and by then time had eroded its value. Formulaic
expressions had crystallized memories of the event to some extent and
false details slipped in. One witness, 14 years after the event, said he
saw the sun zigzagging. Jaki notes this witness had been only 7 at the
time of the event. None of the earlier accounts bear this out. Yet this
account was picked up by popular writers over others and led to
misimpressions. Some ufologists will recall that this detail was picked
out as so like "the falling leaf effect" that Fatima must really have been
a UFO. Late witnesses testified the clouds cleared away and the event
happened in a blue sky. Earliest accounts however repeatedly said that
clouds were present and that one could look directly on the sun because a
diaphanous layer of cloud veiled it.
The reticence to probe the event probably baffles Jaki more than most
people because of his scholarly scruples. One need not be a cynic to think
that the miracle was unnerving to modern sensibilities. Many people in the
crowd feared the sun had detached itself from the firmament and was
falling to the earth. Some dropped to their knees in prayer, fearful the
sun was falling and that it was the end of the world - the Bible's
collapse of the powers of heaven. From the comfort of hindsight, this was
pure foolishness. The sun obviously did not rush towards Earth that day.
It was a misimpression confined to a small region of Portugal. If you
start thinking about this too much it looks like the miracle is, to some
degree, a gigantic illusion and not something you might want to attribute
to a loving, benevolent God. It does not help that Lucia, the child
visionary, stated the Lady took that occasion to proclaim the Portuguese
expeditionary force in France would return home soon. That did not happen
either.
Jaki feels the evidence points strongly to the solar miracle being
an illusion with a strong meteorological component. The diaphanous veil of
clouds is clearly responsible for people being able to look upon the sun
with the naked eye. His notions about the precise mechanics of other
details of the solar miracle however look pretty doubtful. Jaki calls upon
Donald Menzel's discussions of lenses of air to try to account for the
falling of the sun, but he seems to misunderstand the process. Menzel was
accounting for the image of a car jumping forward by means of layers of
heated air lying horizontal and parallel to the earth. The solar miracle
involved an image of the sun at local high noon and you can't plausibly
argue that a lens of air can form along a line of sight that has such a
high angle.
Jaki would have benefited from an awareness of William Corliss's Rare
Halos, Mirages, Anomalous Rainbows. Some of the miracle recalls things
like jumping halos, bishop's rings, and kaleidoscopic sun displays. Indeed
Corliss himself very briefly mentions Fatima in his Kaleidoscopic Suns
section. I'm inclined to think varying populations of ice crystals or
other aerial impurities account for the illusion of movement along the
line of sight. The rotating rays of the display sound like maybe
crepuscular sun shadows of high clouds above the mist layer. Such clouds
were mentioned in an early account. Jaki was uncomfortable over
Strangfeld's suggestion that the spinning sun was related to the
physiology of the retina, but the observation seems perfectly sound and
applicable. At a certain level of brilliance just before the light becomes
uncomfortable, the retina does process the sun's light in a manner that
makes it appear to spin. I can't say I really understand it, I only know
from personal experience it is true. This also makes more sense of those
instances of people who later said they saw repetition of the miracles at
other times. If they were thinking just in terms of being able to watch
the sun spin without averting the eye, such repeat performances are easily
believed. The motions of the sun described in the early accounts may be
interpretable in terms of a mix of autokinesis, autostasis, and
surrounding cloud motion.
Jaki believes that the meteorological nature of
the solar miracle does not detract from its miraculous character. Miracles
in the Bible probably result from God working through natural laws rather
than in violation of them. So, too, Fatima. The proof of the miraculous nature of the October 13
event was that the child visionaries predicted there would be a miracle at
the time they predicted. It was the reason tens of thousands of people had
gathered in the Cova de Iria. It would have been a bit more impressive had
they said in advance that the miracle would involve the sun. One of those
present had expected the stars would become visible; another who witnessed
the miracle didn't realize it was supposed to be a miracle. Still, one
can't deny there is an element of coincidence in the timing of this
meteorological marvel that provokes an element of wonder. When one looks
back on it though, the meaning is elusive. What is really served in a
powerful being sending an illusion of the falling sun to terrify and
inspire awe in a mass of faithful and unfaithful listeners to the message
of Mary? Miraculous cures have a pragmatic dimension easier to revere.
Whatever disagreements one may have with Jaki's opinions, it must be said
without reservation that this is a valuable state-of-the-art history of
the solar miracle that has no peer. Anyone who writes about the Fatima
solar miracle in the future without citing this book can be dismissed.
Martin Kottmeyer
Loren Coleman and Jerome Clark. Cryptozoology A-Z, Simon and Schuster,
1999. £11.99
Paul Harrison. The Encyclopedia of the Loch Ness Monster, Robert Hale,
1999. £14.99
W. Haden Blackman. The Field Guide to North American Monsters, Three
Rivers Press, 1998. £9.99
These three encyclopedias reflect differing approaches to cryptozoology;
of them the Coleman/Clark is by far the most scholarly, following Jerry
Clark's similar encyclopedias on ufology and forteana, with illustrated
articles on a wide range of "unknown animals" along with the people and
organisations that search for them. There is a comprehensive bibliography.
W. Haden Blackman.Yet this book has real problems, mainly, I suspect, stemming from Loren
Coleman's association with the International Society of Cryptozoology, an
organisation which in many ways has aspects of a Bernard Heuvelmans
appreciation society, where the ideas and world view (in which cryptids
are real flesh and blood, pelt and paws animals, rather than inhabitants
of the goblin universe of the human imagination) of the pioneer are not to
be challenged. A reverential tone towards Heuvelmans, and to a lesser
extent towards Ivan T. Sanderson, are adopted here, and opposing and
sceptical viewpoints are not presented. This I think is the real problem;
instead of opposing or sceptical viewpoints being presented and challenged
here, they are simply ignored. This even extends to Loren Coleman's own
excellent sceptical re-evaluation of the Loy's ape fiasco, and his
suggestion that some early bigfoot reports were hoaxes.
It may also
explain the eccentricities of the biographical entries, which feature
entries for some fairly obscure American crytozoologists, but does not
provide separate biographical entries for such figures such as pioneers
Rupert T. Gould, Charles Gould, Constance Whyte, Ralph Izzard, Charles
Stonor, Frank Lane, or modern figures such as Ulrich Magin, Michel Meuger,
Graham McEwan or Jonathan Downes. Also missing is the bigfoot pioneer
Peter Byrne, who seems to have become a non-person after some ideological
dispute with Rene Dahinden, a guy who shared Stanton Friedman's penchant
for threatening to sue colleagues for libel.
Paul Harrison's encyclopedia on the Loch Ness Monster is by no means as
authoritative as Coleman's. Harrison is a former police sergeant who has
turned to Nessie hunting from studying Jack the Ripper, where he received
egg on his face when a book he wrote on that subject confused two people
with the same name. His encyclopedia is a more modest affair; most entries
refer to individual witnesses which, as John Rimmer said on another
occasion, is all well and good if you know the witnesses' names already. I
must say, however, that it does bring a mass of material together.
Harrison would no doubt like to agree with Coleman, given the various digs
at sceptics throughout his book; but he is honest enough to record that
all the most detailed monster photographs have turned out to be hoaxes
(It's Loren Coleman here who has egg on his face for refusing to accept
the hoax explanation of the surgeon's photograph); and that there are real
problems about LNM sightings being accounted for by any one sort of
animal, something which becomes very apparent when looking through the
diverse accounts of land sightings chronicled here.
An anecdote told by Harrison suggests that to many witnesses and other
people Nessie is something other than a "normal" flesh and blood animal.
Relatives of his who were North Sea fisherman, and had presumably braved
force 10 gales on several occasions barely batting an eyelid, refuse to
take their boat on a short cut through Loch Ness at night in case they
meet the monster: "There is no way I would want to cross that Loch after
darkness; something peculiar is in there - large and not of the twentieth
century. We should let it be."
Here we are close to Andy Roberts's ideas
about the "Big Grey Man of Ben MacDhui", that these monsters are symbols
of the "absolute otherness" of wild nature, zones of total non-human
wilderness where people are intruders. This is more in keeping with the
folkloric treatment of monsters in Blackman's light-hearted survey of
American monster lore. Blackman, by presenting the monsters of modern
cryptozoology, Native American tradition, cowboy humour and modern urban
legend together, emphasises their common origin, creatures of the darkness
beyond the camp fire and the wilderness under a child's bed. Blackman
sees, as do Machin and Meuger, modern cryptids as the secularised,
naturalised descendants of the cosmic beasts such as Wendigo, heart of
ice, summoner of storms, caller of beasts from the forests, symbols of the
raw power of wild nature, the utterly implacable force of creation and
destruction, from which human beings strive to carve a secure home.
Of course, both Blackman and Coleman may be right, there are plenty of
real animals such as wolves, snakes, hyenas and the like which are also
wild beasts of the imagination. But these real animals are losing their
symbolic power; today we are told that wolves are big cuddly doggies and
TV envisions dinosaur pups as being as cute as Bambi; we have to look
elsewhere for the monsters our imaginations need. Sometimes we see them in
wild storms, scurrying clouds, overflowing rivers, but all too often we
see them in the faces of strangers. If some cryptids are downfallen gods,
others are dehumanised people.
When imperialist aggressors of all races decide some stranger is in the
way of the land they want for themselves, they turn them into subhuman
"beasts in human shape" as happened to the Niattawo of Sri Lanka or the
Chuchunaa of Siberia. If every Australian aboriginal had been massacred by
1850, and they remained only as dehumanised figures in folklore, would
they not now be the subject of cryptozoology, becoming more bestial still
in the process?
The ease by which covert racist fantasies, such as that
Neanderthal people were hairy and had dark skins - assertions for which
there is no evidence whatsoever - creep into the cryptozoology of such
impeccably liberal figures as Loren Coleman. Of course, artists like
Burian drew Neanderthals as dark and hairy, because that's how European
racists envisaged the "primitive", and the ease with which
cryptozoologists mythologise the third world as a "primeval" wildness
where dinosaurs may be found round any corner, and the "natives" have
never seen a picture of one in a book, should give us pause for thought.
Peter Rogerson
Robert M. Youngerson. The Madness of Prince Hamlet and Other Extraordinary
States of Mind. Robinson, 1999. £7.99
This is a collection of very short articles on, for the most part, a
variety of curious mental states, such as Munchausen syndrome, Capgras
syndrome (the belief that members of your family and friends have been
replaced by doubles), Cotart syndrome (belief that you and/or the world is
dead), etc. There are sceptical but superficial looks at some paranormal
topics such as superstition, mediumship, near-death experiences and alien
abductions. As with many sceptics there is a tendency to cop out of some
of the more puzzling evidence, for example in the chapter on mediumship he
quotes the so called Uncle Jerry case, in which the medium Mrs Piper gave
Sir Oliver Lodge some information about a dead uncle, which one of the
surviving brothers could not remember, but another could, but does not
seek to provide any explanation, just scooting off into much easier
generalisations. While some of the articles are quite fascinating, there
is also a fair amount of rather dull padding.
Peter Rogerson
Sergio Della Sala. Mind Myths: Exploring Popular Assumptions about the Mind and the Brain,
John Wiley, 1999
Della Sala has assembled a multinational team to produce a series of
largely sceptical pieces, examining a range of popular beliefs about the
mind and brain. While chiefly aimed at students and fellow professionals,
most of the contributions will be accessible to the lay reader. They
include studies of topics familiar to Magonia readers such as near-death
experiences, hypnosis, false memories, the paranormal (including a piece
on conjurers' methods by Randi, though I sometimes wonder whether the
willingness of many sceptics to take everything Randi says at face value
is not itself a form of credulity). Other topics such as the role of the
placebo (did you know that you can get the nasty side affects from
placebos also), tracing the origin of the myth of "we only use 10% of our
brain", and a critique of the myth of the right hemisphere of the brain,
will be of less familiarity. I would recommend the various articles on
different brain stimulation machines and techniques, and on the role of
advertising, for some prime examples of pseudoscience. While some of the
topics have indeed been well covered elsewhere, the chief value in this
book probably lies in the assemblage of critical material on a variety of
topics together.
Peter Rogerson
The story of burglars using narcotic gases is implausible, indeed. Yet
it's a rather frequent fashion for robbers in Italy, nowadays.
I admit
having long disbelieved such stories, and collected them for our own
"urban legends" file, as well as the "hypnotizing robber" of a few years
ago.
But I have to testify that it's now established as a recurrent fact,
in more than just one town. Italian newspapers are not only reporting
testimonies, but also comments by the police and even details of which
gases or sprays are being used (non-Italians are blamed, usually Slavs or
Gypsies).
Exactly one year ago, it happened in my own house. At 1 a.m. a
lone thief climbed along the balconies and tried each and every floor,
beginning with the second one and up to the ninth. He sprayed gas into
every open window he found, and he managed to enter at least three
different apartments, stealing watches, cellular phones, money and jewels
readily available. He was casually discovered by a young man at the ninth
floor, who had him run through the window and shouted for help from the
balcony (so that the thief was actually seen descending and jumping to the
ground by another resident on the opposite side of the road). The youth's
parents had difficulties in rising from their bed, but nausea,
sleeplessness and other troubles were reported by people at the eighth,
sixth, fourth and second floors, too (the dog on the second remained
strangely asleep all the following morning). The young lady on the eighth
floor found her phone and watch missing, plus a strong headache and also
found strange sticky footprints inside her room.
Edoardo Russo, Centro Italiano Studi Ufologici (also a member of the
Italian Center for Contemporary Legends Collection)