Lorca’s Immanent Mysticism

The Ambiguity of Mysticism

Federico García Lorca’s poetry and drama evoke images of passion and pain, made to tremble on fantastic landscapes through ingenious metaphor. Though a man of his time, Lorca’s ars poetica sets him apart from his peers; his unparalleled imagery is born of language reaching levels markedly obscure for conventional thought. For nearly a century, scholars have categorized his oeuvre, yet the original and subjective fountainhead of his artistic creativity is rarely explored. In this respect, there is compelling influence of mysticism in the aesthetic as well as ethical scope of Lorca’s poetic discourse, one that excludes divine union while affirming the power of spiritual contact. Various mystic echoes are present in Lorca’s poetry and drama, and recent monographs have begun to consider this transcendental facet.¹ I have long believed such an apt approach leaves ample room for critical study. In the text that follows I explore Lorca’s work within the mystic context of its very creation.

←1 | 2→In order to place Lorca’s unique mysticism among the many varieties of traditional and innovative mysticism, I should note here that the patterns of discourse I analyze do not derive solely from external influences; they stem also from an inherent quality. Lorca was an essentially subversive poet whose perception of reality was founded upon a radical dismissal of intellectualism, as is visible in his language. Beyond the historical-literary perspective of this rebellion, I carefully examine access to a higher consciousness. For Lorca, such a mode of expression would require a rational and intuitive fusion I refer to as immanent mysticism. Through this fusion, the reader is met with dazzling synesthesia and metaphoric leaps that convey sensory and inner experiences at every stage of Lorca’s artistic evolution. He is aware of a certain spiritual awakening and the profound affect it has on him; he fosters this inner calling with external mystic influences of diverse origins, and it permeates his entire oeuvre. Lorca’s technical mastery is the culmination of his efforts to perfect his skills together with a mode of stylistic creation achieved at a higher level of consciousness, as his brand of mysticism does not imply the divine union commonly associated with religious mystics and aspirants.

Consideration of what might be called Lorquian mysticism begs deliberate reflection on the ambiguity of the term itself. Experts in the field hasten to point out that defining mysticism is a thorny if not impossible task and introductory references most often cite its polyvalence. Hence the term is often misused, indeed among scholars of religion, philosophy, and literature. As Gershom G. Scholem explains, there are as many definitions as authors writing about mysticism, some of which serving to further obscure rather than clarify (3–4). The root of the word itself refers to the limits of language while Orpheus introduces mistagogia to suggest ancient religious rites and hierarchies observed in secret. As Christianity spread throughout the West, any reference to “mysterious” pagan rituals disappeared in the scriptures, but terms such as occult and magic took their place. In fact, one of Lorca’s preferred descriptors is used early on to describe the Christian Mystery: ineffable. Christian mysticism, also referred to as European or Western, is considered traditional or classic mysticism, despite the existence of other varieties with richer histories; it bears a certain influence of the varied forms of Eastern mysticism, as will prove pertinent to the case of mystic influence on Lorca.² The mere mention of Saint Theresa of Ávila (1515–82) or Saint John ←2 | 3→of the Cross (1542–91), whose effect on Lorca far exceeds the familiar echoes in his late poetry, calls to mind the powerful religious connotation associated with the word mystic; their verses are considered mystic poetry par excellence. Yet, although divine union came to be the most widely accepted definition of the mystic experience, mysticism is not a singular phenomenon and scholars object to such generalization.³ Moreover, the inability to define mysticism reflects not only the challenge in describing the mystic experience, but that in achieving the experience. Union with the Divine, with the absolute, with Nature, etc… is the culmination of a lengthy process, and not all who aspire to it reach this state. Its mode of expression is the mutual challenge faced by all who reside along a spectrum that has broadened throughout the ages.

Some of the oldest documents to reveal mystic expression are those of Saint Paul the Apostle (c.3–62). However, as Juan Martín Velasco affirms, the first to specify divine union in mystic doctrine after Saint Paul is a pagan: “We propose Plotinus as an eminent case of mystic experience in the realm of philosophy and, in that sense at least, of ‘profane’ mysticism” (El fenómeno 112). Plotinus (205–c.270), who expounds on his Neo-platonic ideas in the Enneads, makes two claims that will be considered throughout the evolution of mysticism into the world of contemporary poetry, including that of Lorca. He asserts that every human being has a mystic instinct and compares the mystic with the sculptor, linking mystic experience to artistic creation (118). This early association continues to appear presenting the artist –particularly the poet– as one with a mysteriously founded creative capacity. Gwendolyn Bays reflects on this timeless role: “The theory of the poet as seer, as prophet and interpreter of the Gods, as one endowed with supernormal powers, may accurately be called the perennial philosophy of poetry, for in the history of esthetic conceptions it has had many births. It has existed at one time or another in almost every ancient culture” (3).

Plotinus greatly influenced Christian writings, and his disciples played important roles in the development of Christian mysticism. While a catalog of their contributions would exceed the objectives of this study, certain advances are germane. Saint Augustine (354–430), for example, speaks of the “flame of love” and souls ascending toward God, and Pseudo-Dionysius the Areopagite (fourth century) made the first and radically transformative attempt to describe the workings of mystic consciousness. Much of his language was adopted, and his metaphors and paradoxes reappear in Spanish, or Classic, mystic literature, ←3 | 4→such as the darkness-light contrast; his Mystical Theology is based on apophatic theology, the theory of negation leading the mystic to renounce all that is familiar on a conscious level. Physical renunciation as a fundamental, though difficult, step in the process toward divine union is perceived in the works of Saint John, and later in Lorca. It is the origin of the divine darkness, or the “dark night” that appears in the anonymous Cloud of Unknowing (fourteenth century). “Divine ignorance” is present in Greek and Hindu philosophy; Pseudo-Dionysius introduces it to Christianity. Finally, Saint Francis of Assisi (1182–1220) attempted to reveal the “mystery” behind mysticism by using a level of language that the common people could understand, accustomed as they were to the messages of divine love recited by the troubadours. The experience of divine love after suffering the dark night, as expressed through accessible language, would come to characterize mystic literature.

Much of mystic literature is composed along the illuminative phase. The aspirant is able to perceive God and gains a clear vision that precedes the noetic quality described by William James (295). Voices and visions may be unleashed during illumination, becoming a form of artistic creation; hence the classification of artists, particularly poets, as “visionaries” with a certain mystic quality. In a ←4 | 5→logical sequence, the unitive phase would be the next and final stage along the path of the Christian aspirant, the successful end of the journey. However, mystic phenomenon defies all logic. Still conscious of the human condition, an obstacle to the soul’s flight, the aspirant is surrounded by the misery of the “dark night,” more horrific than purgation and likely recurrent. The path implies a constant vacillation between pain and pleasure, especially when transitioning from one phase to another; it is a life of extreme contradictions taking years to possibly achieve divine union. The unitive phase represents a new stage for the Christian mystic and the challenge in describing this experience is brought to the forefront. Divine union occurs on a higher plane where words simply have no value. It is the culmination of intense love, the soul’s spiritual communion with God now fulfilled, symbolized by divine matrimony. A new spiritual being is born to live in perfect harmony with the Divine.

The history of Christian mysticism is complex, and some scholars believe Christianity simply lends itself to the evolution of such a phenomenon. Spanish mysticism springs from it, though during the apex of Christian mysticism the Iberian Peninsula was under Muslim rule and undoubtedly bears the influence of its mystic tradition. Many prominent Islamic mystics, widely considered Sufis, came from al-Andalus, as their major philosophical, poetic and literary works were written between the twelfth and fourteenth centuries.⁴ Theologian Ibn ‘Abbad (c.1332–c.1390), for example, is considered a Hispanic-Muslim precursor to Saint John of the Cross in their similar yet unique approach to the “dark ←5 | 6→night”.⁵ Yet Sufism was also influenced by Buddhism, Judaism, Zoroastrianism and Hellenism, and its origins can be traced to an ascetic practice that gained following in eighth to ninth century Baghdad. Though mystic union was not originally sought by these ascetics, such devoted sacrifice and affliction would lead to preparation for the divine. Based on the Koran, Sufi doctrine is considered an interiorization of Islam, however many schools offer considerable variation within what has come to be known as Sufism. Besides a certain etymological ambiguity regarding their name, the Sufis share the same goal as the Christian mystics: union with God.⁶ The three modes of Sufi mysticism are Ecstatic, Noetic and Love, and are not mutually exclusive (H. Smith xiv-xv). Likewise, the Islamic concepts of sharī’a, tarīqa, and haqīqa are not unlike the three phases of the Christian mystic path, illuminative, negative, and unitive, which offer no certain progression. The path, tarīqa, is considered the mystic path that derives from the main path, shar, and the analogous pilgrimage to Mecca is often repeated.⁷ The path’s varied imagery also includes the ladder, while the opposing yet complementary theories of Emanations and Immanence are followed by the Sufi. Like the Christian mystic, the Sufi does not achieve divine union without first experiencing his own dark night, qabd, meaning confinement, and it is a process that deprives man of his strength, leaving him in God’s hands. The result is the renunciation of the self from a passive state in which the divine light may suddenly break through.

The great mystic of Baghdad is al-Hallaj (d. 922), a controversial figure even today. Most associated with his legendary martyrdom and public execution, Hallaj is considered by Louis Massignon to be the culmination of the mystical movement up to his time (Clark xxi). His influence on Sufi doctrine and poetic expression is extraordinary, though only a fraction of his prolific writings remained intact after his death. Hallaj is credited with mastery over the technical vocabulary of Sufism emerging during his lifetime (Ernst, Introduction 16). The ineffability as well as the secrecy of the mystic experience begged a language of its own, which was particularly appealing given the ability for extensive wordplay ←6 | 7→in the Arabic as well as Persian languages. The language of poetry further invited such intentionally cunning expression, and beyond key terms such as “truth” or God as “all,” Hallaj depicted the suffering of love in a multitude of images common in court poetry with a style steeped in antithesis and paradox that would come to characterize Sufi poetry (23–4). This imagery and wordplay would be seminal for later Sufi poets, such as Jelaluddin Rumi (d.1273) and Hafiz (1315–90), as we will explore, while much of the imagery is also found in Christian mystic verse. For example, Ja’far al-Sadiq (d. 765) describes divine love as “a divine fire that devours man completely,” evoking the “flame of love” described by Saint Augustine and later adopted by Saint John, and exemplifying the paradoxical metaphor in mystic expression (Schimmel, Mystical 41). Abundant images are shared by Christian mystics and Sufis alike, and their striking symbolism would greatly influence Lorca’s work.⁸