Farwell to desires of flesh

It's "carnival" in English, but the Portuguese "carnaval" (accent on the "val") is prettier.
Both words come from the Latin-esque Italian, carne vale: literally, "Goodbye, meat," but in spirit more like "Farewell to desires of the flesh."

Protestantism, rooted in chilly Northern Europe, would have us bid that farewell abruptly, even rudely, and for keeps. Slam the door on desire and that's that.

Catholicism, a Mediterranean invention, evolved a small-"c" catholic (inclusive) tradition that could be summed up as: What's a goodbye without a kiss? And why stop at kissing? If we're going to bid farewell to desires of the flesh, let's first evoke those desires in all their regalia – we'll dance from the streets to the bars to the bed, with masks, costumes, music, drums, and spirits (liquid and/or noncorporeal). The best goodbyes are celebrations. Let's celebrate our desires before we bid them farewell.

'And so we have Mardi Gras ... Fat Tuesday ... Carnaval, before the rigors of Lent.

As Laurence Durrell wrote in Balthazar:
"Carni vale – the flesh's farewell to the year, unwinding its mummy wrappings of sex, identity, and name, and stepping forward naked into the futurity of the dream."

That's his viscous way of saying that Carnaval, both as party and as metaphor, is rife with the mysteries of sex, love, and identity.

Michael Ventura


cristóvão do vale