The Neurology of Curtains

"...curtains are a societal/cultural "thing." Curtains are the ultimate "woman's touch." They make a house a home. Curtains seem to be a potent marker of domesticity."




That's right.

Recently, in a nesting fit, I bought some antique pillowcases to turn into curtains for my kitchen. They are fabulous.

When I walked into the kitchen the morning after I'd hung the curtains, I was filled with pleasure at the sight of the sun streaming through the white fabric, making the entire room look golden and alive. 

The very physical response I had to my curtains on that first morning (and each day since) cannot be explained as mere aesthetic appreciation. It goes deeper than that. There was a strong feeling of comfort, protection, and serenity. A sense of sanctuary.

On a larger scale, curtains are a societal/cultural "thing." Curtains are the ultimate "woman's touch." They make a house a home. Curtains seem to be a potent marker of domesticity.

Why is this? Is there an evolutionary advantage to this response to curtains?

Put very simply, an emotional reaction is the result of a series of neurological responses to a stimulus. If that emotional reaction is advantageous to our survival as a species, it will be selected for and will become more intense and more ubiquitous throughout the affected population. For example, gathering into groups in times of crisis is advantageous for humans because a large group is more likely to discourage predators. Those individuals who have the strongest physiological responses experience the most satisfaction (relief of anxiety, feeling of peace, etc. provided by hormonal secretions) from gathering into groups are more likely to do so in times of stress. These individuals are more likely to live to reproductive age, passing that trait on to their offspring. Those individuals who don't have the same physical/emotional response are less likely to participate in the gathering and are therefore more likely to get eaten before they can have any kids. Simple! It seems to me that a lot of our behaviors can be explained as stemming from the physiological mechanisms that encourage increased social cohesion. Social cohesion seems to be the key to our survival as a species.

Recently, I read an article about the human response to sitting around a fire. Some individuals are more prone than others to become entranced by the flickering firelight, experiencing altered states of consciousness (ASC). Some argue that this propensity is evolutionarily advantageous as it facilitates a common spiritual experience, and therefore enhances social cohesion. It has even been posited that the advent of the campfire may have been the moment in which the human propensity for ASC and intoxication blossomed, resulting in the florescence of culture. 

Everything comes down to altered states, y'all. I believe (as do many others) that the stages experienced during ASC resulted in the concept of the multi-tiered cosmos that has given rise to the world's religions. Please visit this post to get an idea of how the three-tiered cosmos arose from the universal human experience of ASC.

What does all this have to do with curtains? GLAD YOU ASKED!

I am going to go out on a limb here and suggest that the window resonates in the human subconscious as the vortex associated with ASC. The curtain seals the portal, separating the realms.

Between the stages of ASC, a spiral or vortex/tunnel is commonly experienced. The tunnel/vortex experience is crucial to the understanding of shamanism and the tiered cosmos. The tiered cosmos is characterized by the perception that reality can be divided into realms: e.g., the realm of the living, and the realm of the dead. As subjects move through the intensifying spectrum of ASC, they pass from an ordinary reality, through the vortex/tunnel, and arrive at an alternate reality featuring iconic imagery which the subject perceives as real. Often a bright light is associated with the end of the tunnel, enhancing the perception that it is the entrance to a sacred realm (Lewis-Williams and Dowson 1988, 204). Often the subject interacts with spirits or deceased loved ones while in deep ASC, emphasizing the perception that the altered reality is the realm of the dead (Rhawn 1996, 3; Previc 2006, 515).

The access point between these cosmic realms is typically a danger zone, and must be monitored to prevent individuals from venturing between the realms. This prevents the dead from coming back into the world of the living, and the living from wandering into the world of the dead. An example of this may be the shaman going into trance, traveling to the otherworld, and consulting with the ancestors or spirits as to how to treat a sick community member. The shaman comes back from the otherworld unharmed and treats the sick person. It would be far too dangerous for the sick person to travel to the spirit world her/himself as she/he would not know how to come back to the world of the living. Another example is a priest accompanying the deceased to their final resting spot and performing the rituals necessary to facilitate the safe traversal of the individual to the realm of the dead. The shaman would then return to the world of the living, sealing the access so that the deceased would remain in the world of the dead.

In the current context, this means keeping outsiders from coming into the home (the earthly realm) and family members from falling out into the alley (the otherworld). The window is the access point between the two. The monitor is me, the mother. I am the shaman because I control my son's access to this portal to the outside world and I control the world's access to this portal to the inner world, the home. My most important duty is to keep my child safe in his home, his earthly realm, and prevent him from wandering off into the unknown. For now.

domestic/wild
living/dead
earth/heaven
inside/outside
womb/world 


So why cloth?

There are countless examples of textiles being prominent in sacred and ceremonial contexts involving the traversal of cosmic realms (e.g., funerals, births, etc.). For one example, check out this post about Indonesian Sarita cloths. The textiles serve several purposes, including sealing the access so individuals from each realm cannot wander into the wrong realm and, during ritual, facilitating the proper passage of certain individuals from one realm to the other. There are many rituals associated with these textiles, both in their manufacture and use. They must be stored and handled in a certain way. They must be placed properly. There are taboos regarding which individuals may touch them or wear them. The list goes on. This use of textiles is an ancient tradition going back thousands of years and spanning all parts of the globe.

The curtain is my sacred textile. It delineates/separates one world from another. It seals the portal between the cosmic realms. I, as the shaman/mother, control the curtain/portal.

What it all boils down to is that the human propensity for altered states of consciousness, selected for because of its positive influence on social cohesion, has resulted in (among millions of other things) a great and universal appreciation for curtains.

The curtain on my kitchen window evokes the same physiological/emotional response in me as the sacred textile corridor through which the Indonesian woman's coffin must pass would have on her community. The response is one of comfort, of knowing  that I am here in my home, my community, my domestic sphere. Denizens of the otherworld cannot cross into my realm, and I cannot cross into theirs. At the same time, I can see their light gleaming through the cloth and feel their magnanimous influence in my kitchen. This response may be enhanced by the fact that the curtains themselves are made from vintage/used fabric. They have themselves been touched by the ancestors!  

For now, I hope we all will remain in our respective realms. At least for awhile!


 




MIRI