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50 pages 1 hour read

Caitlin Doughty

From Here to Eternity: Traveling the World to Find the Good Death

Nonfiction | Book | Adult | Published in 2018

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Introduction-Chapter 2Chapter Summaries & Analyses

Introduction Summary

Content Warning: This section discusses death, abortion, and death by suicide. Funeral practices and postmortem bodily phenomena are described in detail. 

Doughty relates an anecdote about when a hospice nurse called her about a recently deceased patient named Josephine, whose daughter wanted to keep her body at home. The nurse was skeptical that this was legal, but Doughty says that she encourages this practice. Doughty reveals that she is part of a group of “younger, progressive morticians” who run their funeral homes contrary to the “big business” practices of the American death industry (2).

Doughty recalls a story from when she was working at a crematorium and rented a hut from a man named Luciano in rural Belize. Luciano told her that his community discussed death all the time, including what they want to happen to their bodies after death. Doughty explains that she has long been curious about why Americans are so reluctant to discuss death, and she realizes that turning to other cultures’ death practices is a good way to show people how to deal with death openly. 

Doughty recounts several historical examples of moments when one culture’s death rituals appeared “savage” to another. She says that there is no single right way to care for the dead; instead, she believes that “the merits of a death custom” aren’t objective (12); rather, they are based on individual and group beliefs.

Back in Belize, Doughty went with Luciano to visit his grandparents’ graves. He said that his family stole his grandmother’s body from a large hospital to keep her from being autopsied and embalmed; instead, they had a day-long celebratory wake. Doughty compares this to the sterile and expensive American death industry that often financially exploits mourners. In this book, Doughty wants to show that American death rituals are not superior to the rest of the world and that they have “fallen behind […] when it comes to proximity, intimacy, and ritual around death” (15).

Chapter 1 Summary: “Colorado: Crestone”

Doughty is invited to Crestone, Colorado, for the cremation of Laura, a recently deceased 75-year-old woman. Laura’s family lays her on a pyre, and each guest places a juniper branch onto the pyre before Laura’s family lights it. Though Doughty received an invitation, she is the only one there who doesn’t know the deceased.

This form of cremation goes back tens of thousands of years; Doughty says that one of the first known humans to be cremated in this way was the “Mungo Lady,” a cremated aboriginal Australian woman whose bones are 42,000 years old. At Laura’s funeral, guests play instruments around the pyre, which is the only public “community open-air pyre in America and, in fact, in the Western world” (21). The pyre’s operators, Stephanie and Paul Kloppenberg, brought their pyre to people’s homes before setting it up permanently in Crestone. Initially, the town of Crestone was resistant to the pyre, until Stephanie and Paul met with people, collected concerns, started a non-profit called the Crestone End of Life Project (CELP), and amassed signatures and research in defense of the pyre. After Laura died, volunteers from CELP helped her family care for her body. They offer embalmed burial, un-embalmed burial, or funeral home cremation in addition to the open-air pyre, and they assist families with finances. Doughty is jealous that they have this pyre because her funeral home uses “a loud, dusty crematory in a warehouse” (25).

She says that the first “modern, scientific” furnace cremation was that of Baron Joseph Henry Louis Charles De Palm, who died in May 1876 and was cremated six months later. The industry grew exponentially more popular over the next 150 years, though the technology has not changed; each machine uses “thousands of dollars’ worth of natural gas a month, spewing carbon monoxide” and other environmentally toxic substances into the atmosphere (27). These machines are often tucked away in industrial warehouses, and families pay thousands of dollars to observe, though the furnace and cremation are hidden behind a wall. 

While open-air pyres also contribute to emissions, CELP has innovated several modifications to lessen these effects. While CELP doesn’t hide the body from viewers, cremations are public events, so volunteers add wood strategically to keep bones, organs, and soft tissue from view. In Crestone, people talk openly about what they want done with their bodies after death, and families feel empowered to care for their own dead.

Any community could have an open-air pyre. Some Indian and Hindu activists in America have fought for this, but local governments and funeral boards are resistant. While they list the type of objections that Crestone residents originally had, which CELP took pains to dispute with information and research, Doughty thinks the real reason is money: She says that an average American funeral costs “$8,000 to $10,000—not including the burial plot and cemetery costs” (38), while a Crestone funeral costs about $500.

The next day, Laura’s son Jason looks through the ashes with Stephanie’s brother McGregor. Jason finds Laura’s watch in the ashes, permanently fixed at 7:16 am, the moment the flames consumed her body.

Chapter 2 Summary: “Indonesia: South Sulawesi”

Doughty travels to the Indonesian mountains of Tana Toraja with writer and researcher Paul Koudounaris, who studies human and skeletal remains. In this part of Indonesia, residents practiced an “animistic religion called Aluk to Dolo” until Dutch colonizers introduced Christianity to the region in the 1900s (45). Doughty and Koudounaris visit the Londa Caves, where skulls are stacked along walls and upright coffins made of uru wood stand alongside wooden “tau tau” effigies of the dead; this is a method of burial practiced since at least 800 BCE.

The next day, they go to a Torajan funeral. The corpse of an important local man named Rovinus Lintin is transported on a miniature house called a tongkonan, which is carried by 35 people. While most Western tourists sit in a far-off section to observe, Doughty notices some being disrespectful and intrusive toward the local people. Koudounaris and Doughty’s guide, a man named Agus, translates the funeral service for them.

Local families each bring a sacrificial animal. Though Rovinus “died” three months earlier, Torajan tradition declared him still living, in an altered state, until the first animal was sacrificed. During the several months to several years between death and funeral, a family mummifies and takes care of a body, bringing them food and clothes. Agus says that he and his brother slept in the same bed as his grandfather’s corpse for seven years, standing him up each morning and laying him back down each evening.

The next day, they go to a ma’nene’, a ritual where the dead are raised for second funerals. They are with a man who is raising his father, named John Hans Tappi. John’s son worries that his father has not passed on since he hasn’t been able to afford an elaborate sacrifice. At the ma’nene’, Doughty sees corpses in many different states. Some are identifiable family members, and some are the bodies of past community members whom no one remembers. They are all cared for and spoken to. A local family leader tells Koudounaris and Doughty not to reveal the location of the site to any outsiders; Doughty feels like she has intruded where she isn’t wanted.

While some families use traditional oils and teas to mummify their dead, many use the same embalming formula as North Americans. When families are done brushing dust off their dead, they dress them in new clothes and blankets and re-inter them. Doughty says that she constantly gets questions from Americans about what state their loved ones are in a certain number of years after their death. She thinks that the Torajan practice demystifies this concern.

Introduction-Chapter 2 Analysis

The opening chapters introduce the book’s central critique of The Western Sanitization of Death. Doughty, a progressive funeral director, wonders how to get Americans to “show up, to be present and engaged” in deathcare and mourning (15). Her Introduction dismantles the Western idea that “we have it all right” when it comes to deathcare, while “all these ‘other people’ are disrespectful and barbarous” (14). She uses second person to speak directly to the reader, asking them to question what they find disrespectful about other cultures’ death practices and why. She writes, “Many of the rituals in this book will be very different from your own, but I hope you will see the beauty in that difference” (15). Doughty’s use of second person shows that her intended audience is people from the United States and other cultures from the West who subscribe to sanitized death practices that distance the dead from mourners. Doughty frames her exploration so that readers know what to expect and what argument she plans to make.

Throughout the next eight chapters, Doughty will cycle through diverse deathcare and funerary practices that differ from the sanitized, Western one. She models acceptance, openness, enthusiasm, and self-inquiry for her readers. Doughty always introduces ideas and stories in individual chapters using anecdotes. She begins with a specific story from her experience and uses this to broaden her discussion into larger cultural beliefs and historical framing; then, she ties this to her central argument about the perceived appropriateness of funerary practices being culturally contingent.

One of Doughty’s goals is to destigmatize interacting with dead bodies; she believes that in Western cultures, mourners and the dead are too distanced. So, in her anecdotes, she always names the people—both living and dead—whom she discusses. She often physically describes the corpses she talks about and details their personalities and biographical details. For instance, in Chapter 1, she introduces Laura, a deceased 75-year-old woman. She describes how “Laura had lived in Crestone for years” and includes personal stories about her from community members (30). These details humanize Laura. Knowing her name and details about her life helps readers see her as a nuanced individual rather than a corpse to be avoided and feared.

Doughty also uses her personalized anecdotes to speak to related cultural beliefs and historical data. She describes how Laura is being cremated in an open-air pyre, and she uses this detail to discuss the history of cremation. Though Crestone has the only “community open-air pyre in America and, in fact, in the Western world” (21), Doughty’s cultural and historical information reveals that there is nothing strange, new, or taboo about open-air cremation. She relates the story of the “Mungo Lady,” an aboriginal woman who was cremated by her community 42,000 years ago. Though people might consider industrial, commercial cremation in a closed-off facility cleaner, Doughty reveals that “[i]ndustrial, furnace cremation was first proposed in Europe in the late nineteenth century” (25). Though this is now seen as a traditional cremation, while open-air pyres like Crestone’s are seen as unusual and non-traditional, Doughty’s historical framing reveals how ideas of acceptable funerary practices are shifting and culturally contingent. Industrial cremation is only roughly 150 years old, while open-air cremations are at least 40,000 years old.

She also introduces the idea that industrialized Western death practices can be oppressive to people who live in these countries but come from diverse religions and ethnicities. She introduces the story of Pittu Laugani, a Hindu man who explains “the pain of witnessing a commercial, industrialized cremation” (37). In his belief system, the skull of a body being cremated should be cracked so that the soul can escape and move to the next world. In an industrial cremation machine’s “steel and brick-lined chamber,” he believes that a soul “will be imprisoned in the machine, forced to mingle with the thousands of other souls the machine has trapped” (37). This anecdote reveals how one culture’s death practices, when forcefully imposed on another, can be actively harmful.

Doughty often reflects on the rigidity of the American funerary business. The laws dictating what is an acceptable funerary practice are largely arbitrary. She shows that they are not driven by what is best for the environment or for the people experiencing these systems, like Pittu, but by small interest groups. Doughty relates how “government cemetery and funeral boards put up enormous resistance” to the introduction of innovative funerary practices like open-air pyres (38). The reasons they give are largely about safety, environmental impact, and cleanliness. However, projects like the Crestone End of Life Project have gathered a lot of data that disprove these claims.

Doughty points out that modern, industrial cremation machines have not been innovated since the 1870s. They each take “thousands of dollars’ worth of natural gas a month” and emit “carbon monoxide, soot, sulfur dioxide, and highly toxic mercury” into the atmosphere (27). These machines rely on fossil fuels, and while open-air cremations still release emissions, CELP uses raised pyres to consume less wood and also employs other environmentally aware measures. These data disprove the protests of funeral boards and reveal what Doughty believes is their likely motivation: money. A traditional funeral in the United States costs $8,000 to $10,000, “not including the burial plot and cemetery cost” (38). In contrast, a Crestone funeral costs only $500. One of the biggest obstacles that Doughty sees to reforming the American funeral industry is its commitment to “money and profit” (38), rather than care for the dead or their surviving loved ones.

Despite the restrictions of big funerary businesses in the United States, Americans and other people from Westernized cultures sometimes exhibit a morbid and exploitative interest in Ethical Engagement With Diverse Death Practices. In addition to relating these moments, Doughty questions her own role in this phenomenon. She begins exploring this theme in Chapter 2, in which she details her visit to Indonesia. The Torajan people developed boundaries for tourists so that they could get “close, but not too close” while observing their funeral rituals (51). This balancing act attempts to generate revenue and share their practices without compromising them. Doughty sees the Torajan funerary practice as culturally important and thinks that her ability to even be present on the outskirts is “more than fair” (51). However, she notices a German woman walking “directly into the center of the courtyard, through the unfolding festivities, taking photographs with her iPad thrust into local children’s faces” (51). Doughty finds this disrespectful and upsetting and fights the urge to “yank her out” (51). Doughty sees this woman as an example of the type of tourist who sees Cultural Diversity in Death Practices not as an important cultural practice deserving of respect but as a consumable curiosity.

Though Doughty never behaves like this woman, she wonders if she, too, is culpable of treating diverse death practices as commodities since she pushes herself into sacred spaces where her presence isn’t wanted. When she and her companion hear about the unwrapping of mummies, she reveals that they “spe[e]d in that direction,” charging through mud and sliding down embankments to get there (66). The mourners do not ask them to leave—instead, they welcome them to ask questions. However, they ask Doughty and her companion not to share the location of this “secret” place with anyone else. Immediately, Doughty wonders if she and her friend are like the German woman who intruded in the parade and if their curiosity has “driven [them] where [they] [a]ren’t wanted” (67). Ultimately, only the Torajan people themselves—or the practitioners of any given ceremony or tradition—can answer the question about who is welcome in their space. However, Doughty models the self-awareness and self-questioning that she believes tourists should have when entering spaces that do not belong to them.

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