hgc
21st December 2005, 12:49 PM
I am currently reading the excellent book The Gypsies, by Jan Yoors. This book details the experiences of Yoors, who ran away from his home in Belgium to live with Gypsies for 6 months or a year every year starting at the age of 12, in the 1930's.
Yoors gives thorough explainations of what life with the Gypsies ("Rom") was like. Early in the book, he addresses the Gypsy practice of fortune-telling. They never did this among themselves, but merely sold their services to non-Gypsies ("Gaje") for the purpose of making money and other practical purposes, such as gathering intelligence about the community where they were passing through.
In the following passage, Yoors relates what a young woman named Keja explained to him about what Gypsies really think of fortune-telling.
In essence Keja said that the avidity for fortune-telling came from an inability to cope with one's anxieties. Instead of satisfying, it created a self-perpetuating greed for prophecy, akin to compulsive gambling, only more harmful since one lost not money but insight. It blinded one to the causes of one's problems, and this was "madness." It was a vain and self-defeating search for expedient solutions to problems of moral integrity, and was caused by an unwillingness to face life as it was. Most people consulted fortune-tellers primarily to seek the confirmation of their fears, more often than of their hopes. Fear could become father to a wish, for many subconsciously wanted to have that which they said they feared most. Keja said it impoverished, while the acceptance of sorrow could enrich.
This reminded me of Randi's account of a conversation he had backstage with a famous, unnamed mutual antagonist who was trying to call a truce -- particularly the part about losing insight.
Yoors gives thorough explainations of what life with the Gypsies ("Rom") was like. Early in the book, he addresses the Gypsy practice of fortune-telling. They never did this among themselves, but merely sold their services to non-Gypsies ("Gaje") for the purpose of making money and other practical purposes, such as gathering intelligence about the community where they were passing through.
In the following passage, Yoors relates what a young woman named Keja explained to him about what Gypsies really think of fortune-telling.
In essence Keja said that the avidity for fortune-telling came from an inability to cope with one's anxieties. Instead of satisfying, it created a self-perpetuating greed for prophecy, akin to compulsive gambling, only more harmful since one lost not money but insight. It blinded one to the causes of one's problems, and this was "madness." It was a vain and self-defeating search for expedient solutions to problems of moral integrity, and was caused by an unwillingness to face life as it was. Most people consulted fortune-tellers primarily to seek the confirmation of their fears, more often than of their hopes. Fear could become father to a wish, for many subconsciously wanted to have that which they said they feared most. Keja said it impoverished, while the acceptance of sorrow could enrich.
This reminded me of Randi's account of a conversation he had backstage with a famous, unnamed mutual antagonist who was trying to call a truce -- particularly the part about losing insight.