The Theory of Red
Feb 3 2014


The theory of red.

Ripe fruit, the male gaze.

The wash of dusk,
when 2-legged creatures pause, looking up
in wonder
at a sun that flirts with death,
hints
at resurrection.

The naked face
turning apoplectic, or shamed
elated, or drained,
by lust, or love
the act of creation.

I flush easily.
There are no secrets
between me, and the world.
Which is mostly blue and green,
ultraviolet for some.

But we see red.
The colour of violence,
of fight, or fled
or left bled-out.
The inventors of fire
forewarned,
the forbidden fruit's
poisoned core.

Human beings are one of the rare primates whose retinas have a receptor for red. We are also one of the few primates with naked faces. I heard an interesting theory that ties the two together: that our faces broadcast emotion, and so the ability to see red is intimately tied to our nature as social creatures. I had previously heard a theory that it may have had to do with the advantage conferred on (mostly) vegetarian ancestors who could discern the ripeness of fruit. And, of course, there is the colourful display of sexual receptivity: of full lips and flushed skin and engorged genitalia. Surveys have shown that men are preferentially attracted to women in red. Hence the ripe fruit, male gaze, and naked face that occupy the first half of the poem.

How could we look up and take in the beauty of the setting sun without being able to see red? The aesthetic sense, the appreciation of beauty that is so uniquely human, would be terribly impoverished without the full spectrum of colour. But when I thought of sunsets, I couldn't help thinking of the coming and going of the sun as a metaphor for the cycle of birth and death; and couldn't help thinking that a creature who could take the time out from the struggle to survive in order to appreciate the beauty of the sky would also be inclined to contemplate meaning and mortality.

" ...of fight, or fled/ or left bled-out" is not just a clever rhyme, but has its basis in fact: that the innate "fight or flight" response should rightly be amended to "fight, flight, or freeze", because freezing -- or fainting -- can sometimes be just as effective a response to danger. Young children will often do this in highly stressful life-threatening circumstances: they will slip into a sleep of self-preservation; and when it's over (and they have survived) will have no memory at all of the trauma. Adults, too, often find themselves freezing or fainting when they would have expected to fight or flee.

The fruit of knowledge is usually symbolized by a ripe red apple. I think the forbidden knowledge has usually been interpreted as something to do with sex: that Adam and Eve were suddenly ashamed of their naked state. Or maybe it had to do with dissatisfaction with the boring pleasures of Paradise, or the questioning of faith (apparently angering an oddly insecure God), or unbecoming ambition and greed. But I think their sudden awakening had to do with the foreknowledge of death, the existential pain of living. Our awareness of our own mortality is unique to humans. Although, as I wrote following my previous poem, this is a 2-edged sword; because it is death "that gives life its sweetness and urgency". ...Anyway, that's my "poisoned core." The reader is, of course, free to choose her own.