Behind the mask
Finding the true meaning behind modern-day celebrations
My old Taekwon-do instructor, Stuart Anslow, is one of the trailblazers — if not the pioneer — in unlocking the hidden techniques/realistic applications contained within the Korean martial art’s patterns or tuls, as they are sometimes referred to.
For those who don’t know, patterns/tuls are the same thing as kata in Karate, or, in a looser sense, shadow boxing, to use a familiar Western pugilistic term.
I refer to some of these cloaked self-defence moves in The Dojang and Redemptio and I must credit Stuart for being the inspiration behind these parts of the novels (as well as some other parts of the stories, which I won’t delve into here).
Many Taekwon-do students perform the patterns in a robotic manner, almost as if they are delivering a piece of performance art simply for performance art’s sake. In competitions, students are given high marks for clean, polished actions, “correct” rhythm, footwork and general aesthetic appeal. And yet many of them are completely unaware of the wealth of “veiled” fighting techniques that lie within them. And even if they know some of them, they hardly ever train them with a “live” partner, so to speak. In essence, they are missing out on the true meaning and use of the tuls. In a sense, they are getting short-changed, while also inadvertently sullying both Taekwon-do’s reputation, and that of the fighting forms from which it evolved.
To give but one example, there are many moves in the patterns that look like exaggerated blocks or strikes. But they are not meant to be only teaching a blocking or striking action. Many of them are also throwing techniques, which Taekwon-do inherited from older fighting systems.
The work of people such as my former Sabum (the Korean word for instructor) is therefore both enlightening and, subsequently, enriching. Revealing the multi-faceted purposes of the actions in the tuls opens up an armoury of “street fighting” weapons that would otherwise have been lost in the mists of time.
Speaking of murky histories, Halloween has a funny sort of past that you would struggle to understand from how it is “celebrated” these days. The word “Halloween”comes from All Hallow’s Eve — a vigil celebration of All Saints Day—also known as All Hallows Day in the past. The celebration marks the day before the Western Christian feast of All Saints and initiates the season of Allhallowtide, which lasts three days and concludes with All Souls’ Day.
Halloween is said to have had its origins in the festival of Samhain among the Celts of ancient Britain and Ireland. The story is that the Church co-opted the festival into its liturgical calendar in an effort to supplant the pagan holiday with a Christian observance. Pope Boniface IV established All Saints’ Day in the 7th century on the 13th of May. It was then moved to the 1st November at some point a century or so later. (So this is a history lesson? — ed)
To cut a long story short, the ancients who observed the Samhain festival didn’t exactly party like it was 1999 on the night. They are thought to have believed that the souls of the dead returned on that night to visit their homes. They set bonfires on hilltops to frighten away evil spirits. And some historians have reason to believe that they wore masks and other disguises to stop the dead or “ghosts” from recognising them. All sounds a bit familiar, right?
Anyway, so what I’m banging on about is remembering the dead. (Oh! So you’re finally getting to the point!— ed)
The Celts, as I have just explained, spent Halloween’s precursor fearing the dead.
Allhallowtide does the exact opposite. It places hope in — and for — the dead.
One reason that the Church established All Saints’ Day was because there were so many anonymous or forgotten early church martyrs (who had been eaten by lions, etc, under the Roman Empire) that they could not be officially commemorated individually. All Saints’ Day covers that. All Souls’ Day is when the Church Militant (the collective of church members on earth) prays for the dead who are in Purgatory (the Church Penitent or Suffering). Both days are about praying intently to, and for, the dead: asking the saints to intercede for us before God and then praying for the release of the souls in Purgatory. (What, this is a theology lesson now? — ed)
Nowadays, when do we “officially” remember those who walked the earth before us?Apart from at a funeral, we don’t really, do we? Some people may do so in their own personal ways, but that’s about it. In the West, certainly, we have completely lost this connection with the dead, outside of religious circles (and then even within some of them, tragically).
If we treat the dead as truly being dead to us, then just like those Taekwon-do practitioners who don’t understand the inner workings of their combat system, perhaps we are also missing out on something much bigger — and much deeper — than we dare to imagine.
Shout out
To everyone who tries to dig a bit deeper behind the story, whichever one it may be.
Progress report
My laptop is fixed, but I have still not commissioned a front cover for my new novella The Gaff. So close, and yet so far, as The Bard said. I think.
In my head, I am editing the The Man Who Wore Hats (working title) into a work of stunning majesty. In reality, the unedited first draft remains on my desktop, lonely and neglected. Must do better.
Take it easy. And thanks for reading.