For the Love of the Dead

Whoever came up with the concept of burials in consecrated grounds had obviously never expected the human population to swell to its current numbers. I mean, I know of ossuaries, have been among the thousands of rows of skulls and bones in the Paris catacombs and missed the Bone Church by a few minutes. And I have always thought there was something morbid about the Christian obsession with human remains. Not that I mind, but it seems like it has started causing practical issues.

Zaragoza in Spain is putting up stickers on graves asking living descendents of the dead to renew leases for the space six feet under that is occupied by their ancestors' bones and maggots. The dead seem to be having serious problems of space, what with being cramped inside coffins all the damned time. Failure of payment will lead to those remains being moved to the common burial ground. Nice to see class differentiation even long after death. Bravo.

However, the more interesting bit of news comes from Russia, about a historian who loved to rummage through cemeteries and study gravestones to uncover stories behind them. Quite eccentric for some, adorable to others perhaps, but surely necromanic, undoubtedly. And so the police discovered one day. How they found out, they do not say, but they did.

He had, while rummaging, also dug a little. Not much, just a little, enough to get back home 29 bodies. And yes, the study of gravestones was very rewarding too, since he always chose remains of young women. So did he have sex with them once home? Don't know, but he did make for himself 29 life-size life-like dolls, dressing them up in dresses and headscarves and wrapping their heads and hands in cloth. Well, a cross between a doll and a mummy will be a more accurate description.

Again, did he have sex with them? Don't know. Neither do his parents, with who he shares the apartment he made in to his own macabre museum of sorts. They didn't even know that the bodies were all there! But what we do know is what set him down this path. He claims his interest in necrology began when he was 12 and came across the funeral procession of an 11-year old girl. In his own words, 'An adult pushed my face down to the waxy forehead of the girl in an embroidered cap, and there was nothing I could do but kiss her as ordered.' In other words, mmmm... tasty!