Here I discuss life and death in the context
of a review of the "Body Worlds"
exhibition, which is an anatomical collection
of dead people designed for - and open to -
the public. The increasingly famous/infamous
exhibition presents the work of anatomist Prof.
Gunther von Hagens. I heard much hype about
von Hagens' dead bodies. When I learned that
the exhibition (in London) had been extended
due to demand, curiosity overwhelmed me and
I went along to take a good look. Some of the
exhibits troubled me - chiefly the foetuses
- but I am glad I saw them as I will explain.
The Bodyworlds exhibition starts off with body
parts and soon progresses to corpses presented
head to toe - and literally everything in between.
There are a generous number of bodies, each
showing different configurations of body parts,
ranging from bare skeletons to fully formed
except for skin and fat. The cadavers were posed
too, like actors performing their ultimate encore.
A man proudly man held his skin aloft in his
hand like a flag. What a difference a thin layer
makes to our appearance. It would take a lot
of beers for me to be attracted to a skinless
woman. So beauty is skin deep and this
exhibit proves it. Or does it? There
is something profoundly beautiful about the
skinless body. I propose that the famous saying
should be corrected. Sexy is skin deep whereas
beauty goes through to the bone.
There were cadavers playing basketball, swimming,
pole-vaulting, fencing and even a chess player
staring down at the board with his brain exposed.
Another corpse was posed as a goalkeeper, but
he too had a brain, so there must have been
some mistake. Such dark humour fills
your head when seeing these exhibits. People
perceive science as a bit dry, but here there
is no intellectual snobbery. The exhibition
imbues humour to the presentation of some of
its specimens. This worked perfectly. It is
hard to explain the humour without the risk
of making it sound trivial and banal. You have
to see in situ the danse macabre of humour
and insight, but I'll provide an example. One
spectacular exhibit is a dissected man atop
a huge dissected horse. All the horse's organs
are astonishingly similar to ours, except they
are gigantic in comparison (not least its monstrous
pecker). Yet there is one very notable exception
- the brain! The jockey makes this point silently
yet eloquently, for he grins a skeletal grin
and holds his own brain in his right hand and
the horse's more diminutive brain in his left.
This is a majestic, poetic way of proving that
a single organ can make all the difference in
the world. The profound can be conveyed using
humour as surely as by any dry explanation.
This surely is the key of science and of teaching
in general: where possible everything should
be entertaining and profound at the same time.
I learned a lot at the exhibition, gaining a
myriad of little insights and revelations. I
learned that many of the muscles that move the
fingers are in the forearm - if the muscles
were in the hands themselves then they would
be too large and heavy to be dextrous. Now
I know better what a pancreas, the spleen, the
sinuses and various other vaguely mysterious
organs do and look like. I learned that the
tubes that connect the nuts to the body are
quite thick, and they hang from much higher
than the pecker. Two full body slices with arms
out stretched, and placed at right angles to
form a strangely symbolic cross, demonstrated
how our height and our arm spam are roughly
the same. That was a stunning way to demonstrate
a simple fact!
A couple of exhibits demonstrated the effect
of smoking on the body. Not nice. Not nice at
all. I mention the Body World's smoking exhibits
here: Smoking Rage.
The bodies were presented with great skill,
revealing different aspects of the body not
just in an insightful, but also in an artistic
way. I an not alone in my opinion that modern
art is not as clever as it thinks it is; is
more tedious that it thinks and is staggeringly
talent-free, and I despise the establishment
that supports this cultural decay. But the exhibits
here, whilst not art per se, are truly artistic,
there was obviously true skill, passion and
imagination involved in presenting some of these
bodies that only a master craftsman could produce.
Like some of the best computer games, art in
this exhibition is a pleasing emergent property
of the primary raison d'etre of the object.
The anatomy and the art are a duality as surely
as brain and mind. They are only possible combined.
Brains were preserved here, but not minds. Maybe
in a far off time, mind anatomists will
preserve the minds of our distant descendants.
Nearly all the bodies were shown with the skin
and fat stripped away to reveal the muscles,
nerves and a cornucopia of other internal organs.
Because of this I had to keep reminding myself
that I was looking at real dead people. The
polymerisation caused by the von Hagens' patented
"plastination" process makes the bodies
resemble remarkably intricate models made of
plastic, and in a way, the bodies are
plastic, they are high tech fossils. These are
the science mummies. I can truly understand
why thousands of people offer their bodies to
be displayed at these exhibitions. It would
be great to be a fossil used to teach, rather
than a banquet for lucky creepy crawlies. Our
body is our greatest asset and yet we dispose
of these astonishing machines in the most destructive
way.
Occasionally, for example when I saw real eye
lashes on the eyelids, I would realise emotionally
as well as intellectually that I was gazing
at actual people. Looking at the skinless faces
I kept wondering what they looked like. I yearned
to see photographs of the people I examined
as they were when they were alive, so I could
relate to the more abstract bone and flesh.
That would have been fascinating but it is very
understandable why they preserve the anonymity
of the bodies. Maybe in the future they will
begin to show photographs of the person behind
the corpse. That really would have been intriguing,
in a bad taste, voyeuristic kind of way. But,
let's face it - it is human to be that way.
This is why the exhibition is such a success:
for all the educational value, if I am typical
then it appeals at least partly to our fascination
in the morbid.
Some bodies are shown complete with skin - the
human foetuses. They are shown from four week
embryos which were barely specks, through to
eight months. There was a baby girl foetus of
33 weeks. That was exactly the time that my
twins spent in the womb. (The usual term for
a pregnancy is 39 weeks, so you can see they
were rather premature). I was present at the
birth and saw the first breathing moments of
our minute babies and cuddling them was astonishing
and wonderful. Seeing the dead 33 weeks foetus
was all the more poignant because our twins'
pregnancy was made hazardous by high blood pressure.
It is a fact of life that is sheltered from
most of us in the developed world that some
children do not make it.
I am not sure everyone would benefit from seeing
the foetuses. By a coincidence, a few days before
I was listening to a radio interview with a
psychologist who had conducted research into
the modern practice (in England in 2002) of
recommending to mothers of stillborn babies
to cuddle them at the birth. For some mothers
this is appropriate, but the researchers discovered
that for others it was the wrong thing to do.
The experience detrimentally distracted the
mother's attention away from their subsequent
healthy children. And many mothers were left
with the awful, powerful image of their dead
child that hindered their recovery from he tragedy.
This exhibition added a three dimensional perspective
to that interview.
Other foetuses. showed birth defects including
a baby with no brain or bone on the top of its
head. Siamese twins were presented locked together
with only each other for company in death. Another
foetus' heart formed outside its chest. These
defects illustrate how much can go wrong, and
does. Nature gets it right most of the time,
or nobody would be here. That is the engine
of evolution in action. Only reproductive mechanisms
that work reliably enough can evolve further.
The most astonishing exhibit of all was a mother
eight months pregnant with her womb cut away
to reveal the infant within: its mother was
discovered too late for it to be saved. It struck
me as profound that the life-giving womb sometimes
doubles as a grave.
Body Worlds offers a acknowledgement to Christianity.
Along with a rather thought provoking tribute
to the donors, there is a comment that Christianity
is the most anatomy-friendly of all religions,
that the popes of the sixteenth century sanctioned
anatomy as a genuine way to better appreciate
God. I am an atheist, but I too appreciate that
open mindedness. I came away once again wishing
that those Christians who doggedly deny evolution
would desist (ironically they are mostly situated
in supposedly educated America these days).
To be as open minded and curious about the study
of evolution today as their forebears were open
minded and curious about anatomy would be a
credit to the religion. Many Christians believe
that evolution does not contradict the spirit
of the bible. I hope that this trend continues.
If Christianity could lead the world's religions
with their leadership and enlightenment regarding
evolution in the same way it did with anatomy,
then it would be a deep credit to the church
and to Christianity as a forward looking and
enlightened religion.
My overall impressions of the Body Worlds exhibition
are that I am delighted I went. I do not perceive
it as gratuitous exploitation, or even if it
is, it is justifiable as it invites us (or invited
me at any rate) to confront the unthinkable.
There is no snobbery, just an unforgettable
and accessible presentation of anatomy and a
desire to give knowledge. It made me alter my
perspective on life in a positive way and most
of all it is thought provoking.
An outstandingly unusual thing in an unusual
exhibition is that death is not presented in
a funereal way and nor is it trivialised: this
isn't Disneyland. The main point is to learn
about our bodies, but at the same time death
is presented in a thoughtful, almost celebratory
way. We see death with learning, humour, humanity
and - in a paradoxical way - death is shown
with an intimacy that is both disturbing and
reassuring.