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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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Key Figures

Caitlin Doughty

Content Warning: This section discusses death, abortion, and funeral practices.

Doughty is the author and first-person narrator of From Here to Eternity. However, she de-centers herself in the book, instead focusing on the practices of other cultures. The strongest emotional reactions that Doughty relates about her journey are relatively brief. Occasionally, she expresses jealousy about the funerary technology she witnesses. For instance, at the corpse hotel Lastel, Doughty whispers into an audio recorder, “I want it I want a corpse hotel I want one” (175). This reaction typifies most of Doughty’s emotional reactions to Cultural Diversity in Death Practices—they are largely positive and enthusiastic.

Doughty shifts from her positive tone when she questions her role in the thanotourism industry and wonders whether her actions are culturally acceptable. For instance, Doña Ely hands Doughty the mummified head of Sandra, a ñatita. As Doughty’s friend Paul takes pictures of her with Sandra’s head, he tells Doughty not to look “so dour” and to look “a little less melancholy” (193). Doughty replies, “This is a human head. I don’t need pictures of me grinning with a severed human head” (193). She explains that her solemnity is due to her feelings of respect for the dead and for the culture that observes these practices.

At other moments, Doughty fears that she has become the “boorish” thanotourist whom she views judgmentally. She wonders if her “desire to see something [she] had anticipated for months ha[s] driven [her] where [she isn’t] wanted” (67). While Doughty critiques the United States’ funerary enterprise at length and tours diverse funerary practices to see what can remedy the West’s approach, she also wonders whether she is justified in examining other cultures’ death practices and traditions. However, she constantly questions this and tries to ensure that she doesn’t judge these other practices through a Westernized lens, which shows her care and self-awareness.

Doughty’s humor comes through in her casual and occasionally irreverent tone, which is very similar to her personality on her YouTube channel, Ask a Mortician. For example, in the book’s Introduction, she relates the anthrophagical practices of the Callatians to emphasize how disgust is culturally contingent. When encouraging readers not to be judgmental, she says, “Cannibalizing your dear old dad like the Callatians may never be for you. It’s not for me either; I’m a vegetarian (kidding, Dad)” (14). Her humor breaks the tension in this book that focuses on death, but she is never disrespectful. Rather, Doughty’s writing tone is a stylistic extension of her larger incentive to destigmatize discussions of death and dying.

Sarah Chavez

Sarah is a key figure in Chapter 3, which describes Sarah and Doughty’s trip to Mexico City, Michoacán, and Tzintzuntzan. Sarah was a preschool and kindergarten teacher for 10 years, and she now works as a director for Doughty’s nonprofit, The Order of the Good Death. Sarah grew up in East Los Angeles, but her grandparents were from Monterrey, Mexico. After moving to Chavez Ravine in East Los Angeles, her grandparents were displaced by the government, which said that they needed the land to build “new schools and playgrounds and housing” and then used it to build Dodgers Stadium (81).

Sarah calls her family “self-hating Mexicans” who wanted “to be as white as possible” (81). She saw herself as “an American who happened to be Mexican” (82). This cultural identification became important when Sarah lost a son after six months of pregnancy. Due to The Western Sanitization of Death, she could not find resources to help her mourn her son in a satisfactory way.

The physical displacement of Sarah’s family by the American government parallels her cultural displacement, as she found American death culture unsatisfactory in her time of mourning. This is what led Sarah to reconnect with her Mexican ancestry. While no one in the United States wanted to witness her grief, in Mexico, Sarah finds that her grief is “recognized. [She] [i]sn’t making other people uncomfortable” (88). Due to Cultural Diversity in Death Practices, especially the festival of Día de los Muertos, Mexican culture is more comfortable witnessing death and grief.

Sarah and Doughty visit multiple grave sites and ofrendas, or altars. Sarah is drawn to the graves of babies. At one grave, a woman sees Sarah crying and gives her a tissue, “quietly holding her arm” (90). This solidarity and act of support and witnessing is something that she lacked in the United States. Sarah also observes a fresh ofrenda on the grave of a baby who died 20 years prior and feels validated by the family’s continued care for the child.

Sarah’s baby had Trisomy 13, a rare chromosomal condition that leads to miscarriage or death shortly after birth; this led four doctors to advise her to end her pregnancy. Sarah found that some sectors of American culture were not only insensitive to grief but were also actively hostile to her, like when she visited an abortion clinic. Anti-choice protestors “screamed over and over that [she] was a murderer,” and even after she was inside the clinic, they yelled from outside and called her “the lady with the dead baby” (100). Sarah found that the binary American way of thinking about death introduced a lack of nuance into people’s reaction to her that made those days “the three worst days” of her and her husband’s lives (101). The more fluid Mexican way of viewing death, where grief is open and continual and the dead are present in the lives of the living, helps Sarah in the aftermath of this difficult life circumstance.

Katrina Spade

Katrina is a key figure in Chapter 4. She is an entrepreneur, death care specialist, and founder of Recompose, an initiative for human composting. Katrina got her master’s in architecture, focusing on creating a “resting place for the urban dead” (114). Though she supported natural burials without embalming, she didn’t believe that cities would set aside the necessary land; this led her to innovate human composting and create the Urban Death Project.

Chapter 4 centers around Katrina’s collaboration with Dr. Cheryl Johnston of the Forensic Osteology Research Station, who volunteered her facility and donor bodies to the experiments that Katrina needed to do to prove that human composting is viable. Katrina’s goal is to turn a human body into soil in four to six weeks. While livestock composting is a common practice, no one has ever composted humans before.

Doughty is present for Katrina’s unveiling of her first two experiments, John and June Compost, who have both been composting for five years. Neither experiment is a success, with John losing too much moisture and mummifying and June having too much moisture and rotting. Katrina is disappointed but not discouraged. She believes that human decomposition can be a “radical act,” especially for those who are “socialized female” since they are taught to prevent aging and their “bodies are so often under the purview of men” (138). Katrina’s story, and the stories of other women Doughty meets, like Sarah, Doña Ana, and Doña Ely, collectively emphasize how death care interacts with other social milieus like gender-based discrimination. In 2020, three years after the publication of this book, Katrina’s company Recompose started accepting human bodies for composting.

Yajima

Yajima is a key figure in Chapter 6. He is a Buddhist priest at Koukokuji Temple in Tokyo. When the temple ran out of space for ashes, Yajima made the Ruriden columbarium rather than buying cemetery space. Doughty is “stunned and delighted” by Ruriden, which uses technology to facilitate the mourning process. Mourners swipe a card or type a name into a keypad, and the thousands of Buddha statues on the walls light up blue, except for the statue the mourner is looking for, which lights up white, leading the mourner straight to their loved one.

Yajima is fun-loving and passionate. He has light shows programmed into the light-up Buddhas, with names like “autumn scene,” “winter scene,” and “shooting star” (159). He sees this technology as compatible with his faith since the “afterlife of Buddhism is filled with treasures and light” (152). Yajima’s columbarium is so successful that people buy their Buddhas years in advance, and he is open to making a second or third if they all fill up. His innovation proves to Doughty that technology can be compatible with increased openness about death.

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