"As he grew accustomed to the great gallery of machines, he began to feel the forty foot dynamos as a moral force, much as the early Christians felt the Cross. The planet itself seemed less impressive, in its old-fashioned, deliberate, annual or daily revolution, than this huge wheel, revolving within an arm's-length at some vertiginous speed, barely murmuring, - scarcely humming an audible warning to stand a hair's breadth further for respect or power, - while it would not wake the baby lying close against its frame."
Henry Adams recorded this passage - a recollection of his encounter with electric generators in a museum exhibition at the Great Exposition of 1900 - in his autobiography, The Education of Henry Adams. While the author expresses his nigh-supernatural awe of the machines, he confesses later in the book a nagging disappointment in their weakness when compared to the Virgin Mary, the "dynamo" of the West in earlier ages.
"Symbol or energy, the Virgin had acted as the greatest force the western world ever felt, and had drawn man's activities to herself more strongly than any other power, natural or super natural, had ever done."
According to Adams, the Virgin's power lies, ironically, in her sex appeal. He equates her with the fertility goddesses of the pre-Christian religions, and cites her fecundity - the ability to create life - as the fount of inspiration for her worship.
In this he miscalculates; sexuality and fecundity, though related, are distinct, and neither accounts for the Virgin's supremacy over the machine. While the Virgin did eventually replace the ancient goddesses of Europe as a divine provider of fertility, she was not closely associated with sex; Christian notions of purity forbade it. Moreover, her mere identity as an eternal Virgin, whatever its spiritual or moral implications, precluded her use as a sex symbol. Thus, sex cannot form the basis for her power. Fecundity, independent of other factors, proves similarly insufficient. He seems to ignore that the dynamo itself is fecund, albeit inorganically. The figurative fructus ventris of the dynamo is electric current, which it generates bountifully.
The real key to the Virgin's influence is love. This is equally true of the Greco-Roman goddesses that preceded her. Although Venus - goddess of sexuality -was most widely revered by the ancients, she was not officially preeminent in the pantheon of goddesses. Neither was Diana, the goddess of the Moon (whose movements dictated the menstrual cycle, and consequently human fertility). Instead, it was Vesta - goddess of hearth and home - who commanded the greatest degree of respect from the Roman people, and served the most central function in their lives. Her fire burned eternally in the heart of Rome, and every newlywed couple in the empire - upon the establishment of a new household - kindled their first hearth fire with an ember drawn from its coals. Vesta's fire was the symbol of her maternal love - the bond that not only united all Romans, but prepared their food, and kept them warm and dry. It is this aspect of the Virgin Mary that continues to endear her to Catholics. She is the Great Mother: answerer of prayers, granter of boons, and even provider of divine salvation through the birth of her Son, Jesus Christ.
Herein lies the downfall of the dynamo: mighty though it may be, it can never bestow mother's love.
Henry Adams recorded this passage - a recollection of his encounter with electric generators in a museum exhibition at the Great Exposition of 1900 - in his autobiography, The Education of Henry Adams. While the author expresses his nigh-supernatural awe of the machines, he confesses later in the book a nagging disappointment in their weakness when compared to the Virgin Mary, the "dynamo" of the West in earlier ages.
"Symbol or energy, the Virgin had acted as the greatest force the western world ever felt, and had drawn man's activities to herself more strongly than any other power, natural or super natural, had ever done."
According to Adams, the Virgin's power lies, ironically, in her sex appeal. He equates her with the fertility goddesses of the pre-Christian religions, and cites her fecundity - the ability to create life - as the fount of inspiration for her worship.
In this he miscalculates; sexuality and fecundity, though related, are distinct, and neither accounts for the Virgin's supremacy over the machine. While the Virgin did eventually replace the ancient goddesses of Europe as a divine provider of fertility, she was not closely associated with sex; Christian notions of purity forbade it. Moreover, her mere identity as an eternal Virgin, whatever its spiritual or moral implications, precluded her use as a sex symbol. Thus, sex cannot form the basis for her power. Fecundity, independent of other factors, proves similarly insufficient. He seems to ignore that the dynamo itself is fecund, albeit inorganically. The figurative fructus ventris of the dynamo is electric current, which it generates bountifully.
The real key to the Virgin's influence is love. This is equally true of the Greco-Roman goddesses that preceded her. Although Venus - goddess of sexuality -was most widely revered by the ancients, she was not officially preeminent in the pantheon of goddesses. Neither was Diana, the goddess of the Moon (whose movements dictated the menstrual cycle, and consequently human fertility). Instead, it was Vesta - goddess of hearth and home - who commanded the greatest degree of respect from the Roman people, and served the most central function in their lives. Her fire burned eternally in the heart of Rome, and every newlywed couple in the empire - upon the establishment of a new household - kindled their first hearth fire with an ember drawn from its coals. Vesta's fire was the symbol of her maternal love - the bond that not only united all Romans, but prepared their food, and kept them warm and dry. It is this aspect of the Virgin Mary that continues to endear her to Catholics. She is the Great Mother: answerer of prayers, granter of boons, and even provider of divine salvation through the birth of her Son, Jesus Christ.
Herein lies the downfall of the dynamo: mighty though it may be, it can never bestow mother's love.