bellla

PUBLICATION—UNTITLED


written from may—june 2024.
CONTENT WARNING—cannibalism, self-injury, gore, blasphemy, unreliable narration.

I AM NO GOOD NOR EVIL, SIMPLY I AM
AND I HAVE COME TO TAKE WHAT IS MINE

To devour: a fundamental aspect of human existence transmuted by humanity into a decadent, ritualistic act. No matter how much society attempts to glamorise and romanticise the act of consuming, one would be a fool to disregard its visceral, almost vitriolic quality. Eating is primal, animalistic, and violent, just as much as it is joyous, collective, and sophisticated. Throughout humanity's evolution, traditions and rituals have morphed consumption into an act of decadence. From the sacred rites of religious ceremonies to the primitive need to eat for survival, the act of devouring transcends necessity; it is imbued with layers of meaning, symbolic of both devotion and sacrifice, as well as malice and self-preservation. This duality reveals the abstruse nature of consumption, where it serves as a vessel for love and an instrument of violence simultaneously.
The New Testament of the Bible offers a profound example of ritualistic consumption through the Eucharist: relating to the literal or symbolic consumption of the body and blood of Jesus Christ, The Eucharist, or Holy Communion, is a central rite in the Christian faith. Partaking in this ritual consumption is spiritually nourishing for believers – consuming the metaphorical flesh and blood of Christ brings the faithful closer to God, symbolising unity with Christ. The intimate ritual is representative of religious love, devotion, and sacrifice; commemorating the Last Supper and Christ’s ultimate sacrifice for the sins of humanity, the ritual has aided in the preservation of Christ’s memory for millennia. Using Barthes' semiotics to examine the Eucharist unveils deeper meanings about faith, sacrifice, and spiritual nourishment: the wine and bread consumed in the ritual act as signs, signifying Christ’s blood and body to the faithful. Although the consecrated elements are mere symbols, they transform the ritual into an an act of theophagy – the sacramental eating of the divine. This imbues the ritual with an intimate, almost primal quality.
The Catholic concept of transubstantiation, dating back to the 11th century, declares that the consecrated elements within the Eucharist are physically transformed into Christ’s blood and body inside the body of the consumer. Viewing this through Girard’s Theory of Sacrifice and Scapegoating, the Eucharist emerges as a symbolic form of ritualistic collective violence – christ, forgive these bones i’m hiding, from no one successfully – Communion possesses sacrificial qualities that bear semblance to ritualistic cannibalism, largely due to the concept of transubstantiation, and illustrates the unification of the faithful through an arguably violent collective ritual.
However, whilst the literal image of Communion may seem gruesome to non-Christian onlookers, dissecting it with Girard’s theory offers a transformative perspective – vitriolic devouring becomes a communal, unifying experience, purging collective violence, and embodying divine love. Because of this, the Eucharist is often used to parallel unconventional forms of love: in her song ‘Dog Days’, Hayden Silas Anhedönia asks her lover to “cut me up and eat me like the bread and blood at church”, the image of Holy Communion used to symbolise intense, sacrificial love and intimacy, blurring the lines between being loved and being consumed: thus is born the borderline between devotion and consumption – or, more appropriately, the question of where that borderline should be drawn.

let christ forgive these bones i’ve been hiding, and the bones i’m about to leave.


One could ponder the morality behind ritual consumption for eternity and remain unrewarded with a clear answer. Although arguably the most established form of ritual consumption, The Eucharist seems to echo the esoteric rituals of an infamous Hindu tribe: The Aghori, a sect of ascetic Shaivite sadhus, are known for their extreme, taboo practices, including ritual cannibalism and meditation atop corpses at cremation grounds. As devoted followers of Shiva ‘The Destroyer’, Aghoris seek moksha from samsara, embracing a monist belief. Their rituals purposefully oppose orthodox Hindu notions of purity – hence their macabre nature.
Seeking to free themselves from the bonds of greed, obsession, anger, and sexual pleasure, eventually becoming one with Sadasiva, Aghoris practice these rituals to transcend social taboos, attaining an altered state of consciousness and a realisation of non-duality. Conventional dualities – purity and impurity, life and death – are born of social relations and fears, and criticised by the Aghori philosophy. Their ritual consumption of the flesh of corpses, acts as both a criticism of these dualities and a demonstration of their acceptance of death as a natural part of the human experience.
Due to the taboo nature of the Aghori practices, outsiders often perceive members of the tribe as transgressors; using Barthes’ Theory of Signs, one can interpret the Aghori practices as signs of cultural transgression: to the oblivious onlooker, their ritual cannibalism is a sign of cultural transgression, however in the eyes of the Aghori – the consumer – this act, and others like it serve as a means to challenge societal norms and explore the boundaries of the human experience, thus signifying their transcendence of taboo and spiritual realisation of non-duality. Thus, viewing the Aghori practices through Barthes’ lens aids in decoding them as profound religious symbols rather than simply grotesque, taboo violations.
Embracing the non-duality of human existence through their extremity and non-conformity, the Aghori’s use of ritual consumption embodies the duality of devotion and detachment and its underlying themes of transgression and violence. The concepts illuminated by both the Aghori’s practices and the Catholic Eucharist reflect the ambiguous moral alignment of consumption itself: consumption, whether sacred or profane, simultaneously embodies devotion and defiance, vitriol and loving sacrifice. The illumination of this duality within religious rituals underscores the broader moral ambiguity of consumption, proving its inherent sanctity and profanity, love and transgression; to devour remains an entirely complex act, mirroring the multifaceted, paradoxical nature of the human condition and experience.

Since consuming is such an intrinsic aspect of the human experience, it is inherently ritualistic; repetitive, performative, traditional. Eating is, at its core, a survival ritual. However, Girard’s Theory of Sacrifice and Scapegoating allows this primal necessity to transform: consumption – cannibalism – morphs into a profound expression of commitment and connection. Girard’s theory illuminates cannibalism as the deepest form of mimetic desire: to devour another is the ultimate form of love and sacrifice, with the consumed – sacrificed – scapegoat becoming one with its consumer in this intimate, ultimate form of devotion, offering itself up to another in the interest of unity, peace.
The concept that cannibalism is an act of love has been utilised and explored for decades – humans have an instinctual need to be entirely intertwined with those they love. As such, Julia Ducournau’s ‘Raw’ seduces with its visceral exploration of love, appetite, and horror. The protagonist, Justine, embarks on a intimate metamorphosis from a strict vegetarian to an insatiable devourer of human flesh, transforming cannibalism into an intimate, almost romantic act — a physical embodiment of forbidden desire and profound connection. ‘Raw’ ends with a conversation between Justine and her father, in which he reminisces on the relationship he has with her mother. After a wistful pause, Justine’s father unbuttons his shirt and reveals his bare chest to her, exposing countless deep, jagged scars and teeth marks left on him by Justine’s mother – his wife. Sacrificing one’s own flesh to another is the ultimate act of devotion.

i thought good guys get to be happy.


One can use Girard’s Mimetic theory to argue that Justine’s father’s sacrifice of his own flesh is a form of scapegoating within the family dynamic, as he passively offers up his body as the vessel for his wife’s primal needs, morphing what is commonly perceived as an act of violence into a sustained symbol of their devotion to one another. but i’m not happy. The visceral, sacrificial love between Justine’s parents mirror Girard’s mimetic theory: within the triangle of mimetic desire her father is the subject, her mother is the model, and the object – desire – is consumption. The mother’s innate need to consume is met by the husband’s willingness to be consumed, creating a mutually dependent yet deeply romantic and intimate cycle of sacrifice and love. i am poison in the water and unhappy.
This type of intense, sacrificial love is also present within Hayden Silas Anhedönia’s 2021 concept album ‘Preacher’s Daughter’, which follows Anhedönia’s on-stage persona ‘Ethel Cain’ through her nineteenth year. Over the course of the 13 Track album, Ethel runs away, reflects on her difficult, intensely religious upbringing in Alabama, and falls in love with a man called Isiah whilst hitchhiking from Texas to California with him. Ethel and Isiah are inseparable, staying together even after enduring a multitude of hardships. The album climaxes when Isiah ends Ethel’s life and cannibalises her remains. Acts such as this are usually frowned upon, however when viewed through the lens of mimetic desire, it becomes clear that Isiah’s consumption of Ethel is driven by a profound desire to eliminate the separation between lover and beloved, thus making her an inseparable part of his being; when he puts her flesh to his teeth, she becomes irrevocably his.

i’m tired of you, still tied to me.

His love transcends romance, his cannibalism becoming a holy experience for Ethel as she remains a part of him even from beyond the grave. This is not about her soul, which watches from above and cannot belong to her lover; he can only have flesh, the lifeless vessel she once inhabited. bleeding whenever you want. Isiah’s love is sacrificial, intimate, quite literally all-consuming, and his actions speak to the carnal human desire to be touched and remain impossibly close to another person. Being consumed is the closest one person can be to another; it is an entirely seductive, romantic act.

too tired to move, too tired to leave.

Ethel is forever a part of Isiah, as he has gifted her eternal life: she forever resides in the blood running through his veins.

let the lights bleed all over me.



One must wonder what drives humans to be so fascinated by the idea of consuming one another. Is it innate, instinctive, primal? Or is it the complexities of human evolution that drive the mind into such fantasies? There is undeniable intimacy within cannibalism, and its symbolism of profound devotion and sacrifice is clear – however the primal act possesses an alternate, dark, sinister side, love and devotion seemingly absent. This grotesque underbelly is arguably present in every act of cannibalism – consumption, even – however it most reveals itself in actions driven by malice or self-preservation. When the façade of civility is lifted, humanity’s base instincts are unmasked: the ‘ID’, according to Freud’s psychoanalytic theory, is representative of a human’s primal instincts and desires, veiled by societally imposed repression. In places and states where the rules of society are arbitrary or lost, the ID is revealed; the infamous dinner scene in The Rocky Horror Picture Show taps into the primal desires of the ID and its role within Frank N. Furter’s castle, where the rules and norms of society are discarded in favour of dark humour and taboo-breaking.
The cannibalistic dinner scene serves as a grotesque yet comical exploration of cannibalism, where the added shock value from Frank N. Furter’s reveal of Eddie’s dismembered body beneath the tablecloth illuminates a sadistic pleasure in such transgression. Freud’s psychoanalytic theory illustrates how this scene acts as a vessel to unearth repressed instincts, and the act of devouring becomes a symbol of forbidden pleasure, sadism and inherent malice. Frank N. Furter’s sheer delight at the horror of his guests is a perfect showcase of the manifested ID: the character’s ignorance of societal norms, ethics and life itself is, however absurd, illustrative of the childlike, primal desires and impulses that the ID represents. Frank’s abhorrent actions towards Eddie partially act as a commentary on societal norms and socially acceptable behaviour, somewhat akin to the Aghori and their taboo-breaking practices.
Despite the comical nature of this scene, Frank N. Furter’s decision to serve his guests roast Eddie is almost self-destructive; Thanatos, or the ‘Death Drive’ within Freud’s psychoanalytic theory suggests that all humans possess an unconscious desire for destruction and a return to an inanimate state. Frank N. Furter’s consumption of human flesh can be seen as an act of self-destruction driven by this unconscious desire – death drive – to return to a primitive, chaotic state, but why? According to the film’s plot, Eddie was once Frank’s lover; Frank’s murder and subsequent devouring of Eddie is suggestive of a selfish, yet subconscious desire to keep them together, forever.
Once again, the fascinating layers of consumption’s moral ambiguity are unveiled. Is being consumed equivalent to being loved? Is being ripped apart by the teeth of your lover, dismembered and bloody, the same as being kissed?
This kind of twisted devotion can be found hidden in many a novel, song, and film, and is a repeated motif throughout Hayden Silas Anhedönia’s discography: in ‘Dog Days’, her lover “walk(s) a fine line between god and animal,” another illumination of the blurred borderline between love and primal sadism, and her lover’s animalistic nature illustrates that he cares only for the physical pull of desire itself. One can draw a clear parallel between this lyric and Freud’s concept of the ID – subconscious, primal desire overtakes morality, replacing it with a selfish, twisted, pious devotion to the other.
The self-preserving nature of the ID also emerges with a violent hunger in Lapvona, an Ottessa Moshfegh novel – in contrast to the absurd, sadistic humour seen in The Rocky Horror Show, Lapvona presents a grim portrayal of cannibalism driven by survival as the medieval fiefdom is ravaged by a relentless drought. The once pious, devout, God-fearing peasants that inhabit and farm the land are first forced out of vegetarianism by the lack of crops, and eventually turn to violent cannibalism as a desperate and instinctive attempt at survival. Moshfegh’s vitriolic, nauseating descriptions of the peasants consuming one another underscore the primal desires of Freud’s ID, clashing violently with the strict moral codes of the Superego – the peasants’ devout, ascetic nature prior to the drought.
Freud’s theory elucidates how extreme conditions strip away the guise of civilisation, revealing the latent self-preservation and vitriol inherent in humanity. Additionally, Girard’s theory of Sacrifice and Scapegoating allows this scenario to be seen as a breakdown of traditional sacrificial systems, where extreme environmental pressures force a return to primal violence as a means of survival and scapegoating.
How fascinating it is to observe humanity’s moral fabric unravel in the face of hunger…one must wonder, if put in the same position, how long would it take for the mind to experience such moral decay that it rationalises such vitriol?

suffering is nigh, drawing to me…

Would there even be a need for rationalisation? Surely all human beings wonder the same thing – how do I taste?

make it stop, i’ve had enough…

If the desire is present, one is only a small step from moral regression, stop…from succumbing to our primal desires. Many may call it savage, however is such an act truly one of savagery if it is simply connecting with one’s truest instincts and impulses?

stop…

The thought of eating another human being,

stop…

of ripping their flesh off the bone

stop…

letting their blood drip and pool,

STOP…

digesting them… it is undeniably excitable.

STOP.

It ignites a primitive fire in the deepest recesses of the mind, does it not? To devour another,

STOP

, flesh, bone, muscle, sinew, blood, hair, skin, teeth, nails–

STOP.





…i always knew that in the end, no one was coming to save me.


To devour: the most human of all paradoxes. Despite rationalising, criticising, dissecting, justifying and manipulating seeminly immutably vitriolic acts of cannibalism, its moral alignment remains profoundly ambiguous. One could argue that the devouring of Ethel Cain–

freezer bride, your sweet divine

–was the ultimate act of romantic devotion and, simultaneously, the violent actions of a sick, plagued mind.

you devour like smoked bovine hide–how funny, i never considered myself tough.


The Lapvonian peasants’ desperate cannibalisation of themselves simply further underscores the intersection of malicious self-preservation and necessity, survival, and challenges the average perception of morality. Devouring, especially in the form of cannibalism, possesses a clear dual nature – this moral duality is embodied by the Eucharist, which transforms the basic need to eat into a profound, ritualistic act of devotion, and yet is simultaneously rooted in the primal, violent nature of consumption.

i tried to be good. am i no good?

Girard’s theory of sacrifice and scapegoating further elucidates this complexity: consumption, whether sacred or profane, inherently carries both salvation and destruction–

am i no good?

–within its grasp. Girard's concept of mimetic desire illuminates how desires are imitated and escalated within social groups, leading to conflict and eventual resolution through sacrifice or scapegoating–within cannibalism, the consumed acts as the scapegoat, the blamed,

am i no good?

making the act of consumption the resuolution, the ultimate mimetic desire: to eat, and be eaten.

i just wanted to be yours, can i be yours? just tell me i’m yours…

Consumption’s moral borderlines are so blurred they essentially don’t exist. Where is one to draw the threshold between loving and devouring,

if i’m turning in your stomach and i’m making you feel sick

, being kissed and being bitten–

am i making you feel sick?

–or devotion and violence?
The act of consuming in any form is imbued with layers of meaning: to devour is as equally symbolic of malice, vitriol and self-preservation as it is of love, devotion and sacrifice.The moral alignment of eating remains and will forever remain entirely ambiguous.
It is in this unresolved tension that one discerns the true essence of what it means to consume and be consumed.

am i making you feel sick?
am i making you feel sick?
am i making you feel sick?



*references will be added in due time*

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