Because I could not stop for Death,
He kindly stopped for me;
The carriage held but just ourselves
And Immortality.
—Emily Dickinson
According to the New York Times, cemeteries are raising money for upkeep in novel ways. The gravesites are throwing dinner parties, giving tours, charging dog owners, and my favorite, hosting Halloween parties. As a kid, I loved going to cemeteries and hanging out. They had an eerie sense that I liked, along with cool sculptures, a sense of history, and narratives—sometimes happy as an old couple buried together and sometimes sad, like a child’s tombstone with marble cherubs hovering about.
The cemeteries are also looking for future inhabitants. The article quotes a president of a cemetery board, “We want them to think, ‘Wow, I think I’d like to spend my eternity here,’ ” Ms. Page said of efforts to lure visitors. “It’s a way of saying, ‘We would love you to stay with us permanently.’ ”
One thinks of little Danny Torrance in The Shining meeting the ghosts of the slaughtered twins in the hallway of the Overlook Hotel: “Come play with us, Danny...forever and ever and ever!”
When I die, I’d rather be cremated and cast to the wind, which, according to the article, is how most Americans die, the cremation part anyway. Like golf courses, cemeteries seem like a waste of space, space that would serve better as a public park. You’re dead, so why should you care if you have an expensive headstone? Ah, but people are vain. Here’s another quotation from the article:
Forest Lawn in Buffalo spent $1.2 million to erect the Blue Sky mausoleum, a spare design by Frank Lloyd Wright, with 24 crypts from $125,000 to $300,000. Each crypt-owner will receive a Steuben glass sculpture of their eternal home-in-waiting. “It’s about exclusivity,” Mr. Dispenza of Forest Lawn said. “It’s about being one of the 24.”
What could be put towards housing for homeless goes to some schmuck’s corpse. Will your rotting wrist have a Rolex? Of course, this is not new. The great pyramids are testament to man’s vanity. And famous people’s graves are very popular with tourists. I have been to Père-Lachaise and seen Jim Morrison’s grave. It’s sad site indeed, with graffiti and broken wine bottles. And maybe someday, I’ll go to the Fluntern Cemetery in Zurich to have a glass of Swiss white wine at James Joyce’s gravesite. A pointless exercise, really. A walking tour of Dublin would be a better way to pay respect to the master.
So cemeteries are for the living and not the dead. Wouldn’t a photograph work just as well? Old letters? Perhaps an old video? We don’t have to go as far as Faulkner’s Emily Grierson in “A Rose For Emily”, but there must be a better way to pay our respect and cherish a memory rather than the expensive and wasteful cemeteries. Didn’t Jessica Mitford teach us anything?
That said, I would love to go to a Halloween party in a cemetery. That would be too cool.
He kindly stopped for me;
The carriage held but just ourselves
And Immortality.
—Emily Dickinson
According to the New York Times, cemeteries are raising money for upkeep in novel ways. The gravesites are throwing dinner parties, giving tours, charging dog owners, and my favorite, hosting Halloween parties. As a kid, I loved going to cemeteries and hanging out. They had an eerie sense that I liked, along with cool sculptures, a sense of history, and narratives—sometimes happy as an old couple buried together and sometimes sad, like a child’s tombstone with marble cherubs hovering about.
The cemeteries are also looking for future inhabitants. The article quotes a president of a cemetery board, “We want them to think, ‘Wow, I think I’d like to spend my eternity here,’ ” Ms. Page said of efforts to lure visitors. “It’s a way of saying, ‘We would love you to stay with us permanently.’ ”
One thinks of little Danny Torrance in The Shining meeting the ghosts of the slaughtered twins in the hallway of the Overlook Hotel: “Come play with us, Danny...forever and ever and ever!”
When I die, I’d rather be cremated and cast to the wind, which, according to the article, is how most Americans die, the cremation part anyway. Like golf courses, cemeteries seem like a waste of space, space that would serve better as a public park. You’re dead, so why should you care if you have an expensive headstone? Ah, but people are vain. Here’s another quotation from the article:
Forest Lawn in Buffalo spent $1.2 million to erect the Blue Sky mausoleum, a spare design by Frank Lloyd Wright, with 24 crypts from $125,000 to $300,000. Each crypt-owner will receive a Steuben glass sculpture of their eternal home-in-waiting. “It’s about exclusivity,” Mr. Dispenza of Forest Lawn said. “It’s about being one of the 24.”
What could be put towards housing for homeless goes to some schmuck’s corpse. Will your rotting wrist have a Rolex? Of course, this is not new. The great pyramids are testament to man’s vanity. And famous people’s graves are very popular with tourists. I have been to Père-Lachaise and seen Jim Morrison’s grave. It’s sad site indeed, with graffiti and broken wine bottles. And maybe someday, I’ll go to the Fluntern Cemetery in Zurich to have a glass of Swiss white wine at James Joyce’s gravesite. A pointless exercise, really. A walking tour of Dublin would be a better way to pay respect to the master.
So cemeteries are for the living and not the dead. Wouldn’t a photograph work just as well? Old letters? Perhaps an old video? We don’t have to go as far as Faulkner’s Emily Grierson in “A Rose For Emily”, but there must be a better way to pay our respect and cherish a memory rather than the expensive and wasteful cemeteries. Didn’t Jessica Mitford teach us anything?
That said, I would love to go to a Halloween party in a cemetery. That would be too cool.
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