We take it for granted that people will revere their dead, memorializing or sentimentalizing them. We might view as old-fashioned the practice of keeping a lock of the dear departed's hair, but there is nothing too strange in that. But what if the keepsake was the dear departed's tongue? Veneration for body parts has a long history. "Whether a tooth, a heart, a whisker, or a calcified tear, these items have exerted a remarkable and complicated influence in the world for such tiny, often frankly repulsive, things." So writes Peter Manseau in _Rag and Bone: A Journey Among the World's Holy Dead_ (Henry Holt), a strange, reflective, and amusing tale of a very weird but universal practice. Manseau has traveled all over the world to peep at some of these objects, the ways they are put on display, their influence, and the people who adore them. Manseau is a writer on religion and other subjects, and throughout brings a humorous but always sympathetic view to relics and believers, and his insights into human nature through this peculiar subject are always interesting and sometimes profound.
He starts in Goa, for a look at the corpse of St. Francis Xavier. Francis stayed whole and undecayed until his return to Goa, where he was put on display and in 1554 a "pious Portuguese woman" was so filled with religious fervor before the relic that she not only kissed his toe but bit it off. That was a spontaneous removal, but in 1614 his right lower arm was cut off, split, and sent to Italy and Belgium to benefit Jesuits there; then later Jesuits in Japan got the rest of the arm, and then a shoulder blade went... well, you get the picture. One of the best parts of Manseau's book is that it does not restrict itself to the veneration of bones that is a familiar part of Catholic tradition, but shows relics in other religions as well. There are, for instance, relics in Islam, but they point out a very basic divide in the great Shia and Sunni branches. Shiites are inspired by relics and Sunnis are disgusted by them. From the beard of the Prophet himself has come (as one chapter here is titled) "The Most Dangerous Whisker in the World". Then there is the Buddha's tooth, which resides, naturally, at the Temple of the Holy Tooth in a Sri Lankan hill town. The most peculiar stories here have to do with the foreskin (or foreskins) of Jesus. All of him went to heaven, believers say, but the fruit of his circumcision had to be left behind on Earth somewhere. There used to be a dozen of these prepuces circulating around all over Europe. There are still bits of it about, but the place most accepted as the site of the true foreskin is Calcata, Italy, although the Catholic Church dismisses it as an "irreverent curiosity." This is perhaps a better designation than that given by a seventeenth-century Vatican librarian, who determined that the prepuce had indeed left Earth along with Jesus, and expanded and stopped at Saturn, where it became the planet's recently-discovered ring.
The Catholic Church has a designation for the offense of buying and selling sacred objects: simony. But there is a loophole: such objects can be donated, and donations can be accepted in return. This points out that relics are big business, like the touring Buddha relics which bring in dollars that are to go to an enormous statue of the Buddha, twice as tall as the Statue of Liberty. It also explains some of the thefts that have gone on for centuries, first by the Crusaders and then by monks of one church stealing from another in what seems like a great sport played from one era to the next. Of course, it isn't all about money, and as Manseau points out in this delightful collection of travel stories with a purpose, it isn't even always about faith. George Washington's hair can be found in many collections, as can fabric that soaked up Abe Lincoln's blood. And then there is the museum in Georgia that enshrines a finding from deep in the shag carpet of the Jungle Room in Graceland, and exhibits it as "Possibly Elvis's Toenail."
