Jesus Cannot Escape His Mother’s Blood
And I wonder if Jesus had learnt to impart God through wrecking, walking acts of violence. If this house of original sin has grasped enough of him and witnessed the shedding of the first blood.
Fully God and Fully human, he cannot change himself into a triple thing. However, Christ’s divinity has the ability to diminish itself the moment he fully claims the origins of his body’s flowing blood. Mary’s own fluids reside through him, a fact that hierarchizes her over God.
That meant, however, that Jesus had to share at least half the fate with Mary. Impoverished, he was brought into a life of juniority. He does not have to centrifuge God because at one point, the biology has sealed the deal. His humanness overpowers his Godliness, and for that, his homelessness up until his crucifixion are a product of his lineage.
A repetition of the cycle, Mary was given to God by her parents from an early age: Her mother Anne made sure nothing shalt stain her child up until she was set to be brought up in the Temple at the age of three. Then, Mary’s child-filled age, twelve years old, brought upon her a fate of being given away to Joseph by the Temple’s priests. Her identity is swayed away by her betrothal to Joseph, her inevitability to bear the Spirit, and her sterile relationship with Jesus.
Her connection to God was not that of self-agency, which makes her relation to the holy somehow distant and therefore Jesus’ humanness is prone to overbear in his genes. Her dilemma is that although her body is in the zone of theology, her labor bore half full-fleshed fruits because Christ, her son, was born not to occupy Mary’s barren spaces, but the heresy of the sinners.
Christ’s flesh and bone are bound for this unholy holy inheritance for his mother is but a mortal. And when Mary carried him in womb, she simultaneously carried him on cross, too. In name, he is in relation to the demiurge, but his roots will always absorb Mary’s blood, up until the redness is concentrated enough to transform to utter and complete blackness.
Likewise, such a tribulation gripped Carrie’s hand tight enough until the blood splashed.
Conceived by the dichotomy of violation and pleasure, the womb that carried her despised how she overruled the most desperate prayers. Her birth is the memorandum of a most resented act- her mother’s most despicable sin. Thus, as Carrie grew, her bones bent as a huge gospel on her shoulder disrupted her growth.
The dark baptism that had been conjured upon her with pig’s blood bears similarity with her own first blood at sixteen: she was sightless to the forthcoming of both. Ignominy has been all that consumed Carrie because her mother’s religious horrors were an undying haunting house. Margaret and Mary both carried an unforeseen child, with both holding powers to build and destruct. Margaret’s hatred for Eve’s ‘weakness’ and seductive sin, though, is not balanced out by Mary’s chastity.
Margaret, however, still chose to carry Carrie until her provenance, so Margaret hates the walking manifestation of the merciful decision she made for her womb. Isn’t giving birth the equivalence of manslaughter? Aren’t life and death one and the same, just different, tantamount stages? If they are both sins, according to Margaret, then why did she commit both? And had she a drop of compassion towards her daughter, which originated first? The love, or the faith? Which fueled which?
“Jesus watches from the wall,
But his face is cold as stone,
And if he loves me
As she tells me
Why do I feel so all alone?”
Carrie, Stephen King (p.84)
Carrie’s closed world is a consequence of her mother’s, where crucified Jesus welcomes her every time she steps into the house. This cross follows her into school and unto her social life. A dilemma, I might say, follows this abuse. Margaret’s foretold remarks actually happen. “They’re all going to laugh at you”. They do. “Satan’s powers must never enter prom”. She ends up mass-murdering the people in prom when they laugh at her.
Their laughter’s source is her relation to her mother, for they know not of her powers. Jesus, too, was different as he was birthed from a virgin woman; his powers only increased his queerness. So, as much as Margaret has the result of the massacre in mind, she is the reason that had led to it. Similarly, even Jesus’ fate could not dissociate his death from his mother.
Screaming, a sound Carrie has memorized so perfectly from her mother, and laughing, a sound so linked to her classmates in relation to her: Two sounds that bear enough effort and a similar volume to produce, even if on different frequencies. When Carrie carried out the massacre on her laughing schoolmates, she symbolically carried it out on her screaming mother.
When Carrie performs this ritual of butcher, that is the truthful moment in which she liberates herself from the devout and pious shackles that have been holding her down till she keeps stumbling. Even this, however, did not last long as she returned home to her mother for some ungodly comfort. After she destroys the town, she regresses back to her child self, where she willingly fit herself between her mother’s arms. Margaret stabs her daughter to demolish the wicked in her, and Carrie retaliates by murdering her mother. Eventually, Margaret’s womb consumed her, but the womb cannot survive without its vessel, so Carrie and Margaret both died. This dynamic puts their last embrace in question with Jesus and Mary’s, where Jesus refused for Mary to touch him because he wished for her to find him in faith, and not sight.
Carrie’s consistent cries for her mother “Momma, momma” begin to fade away in contrast to Jesus solidly addressing Mary as “Woman”. Carrie’s life revolved around her mother’s flowing blood inside of her. Thus, she found no security in the Lord’s faith, and if she had, then that faith would be bloody, tainting, and frightening. Jesus, on the other hand, did not fully embrace Mary’s blood nor did he dismiss his father out of his system, so his faith turned potent.
Margaret and Mary hold so much contusion that were passed down to their children, but one difference is Margaret had more of a choice, whilst Mary did not. Interestingly enough, both mothers and children switch roles interchangeably.
Margaret, too, plays God in birth and murder, as well as the upbringing of her child. If it weren’t for Margaret, then, would Carrie have killed and died a thousand times before her demise? Would God have the ability to save her as he wouldn’t with Jesus?
