La Macarena

La Macarena in all her glory.

A miraculously well-preserved Roman mosaic in the Count-
ess of Lebrija´s palace. The collection kept here is nothing
short of astounding. Woman had a lot of time on her hands.

My intensive course during the next two weeks focuses on the historical roots of Seville, exploring the lasting, and often still visible, influences of the various civilizations that have populated the Iberian Peninsula.  By far the best part about the class is that during each session we actually venture out into the city to visit the historical sites we´re discussing (though arguably Seville is just one big historical site).  Our professor Ángel is absolutely top-notch, a veritable walking encyclopedia, and has pointed out to us Roman ruins, converted mosques, and ancient, subterranean plazas in some of the most unexpected places.  Because the course is so brief and the city´s history so boundless, Ángel has given us a list of places to visit on our own time, one of which is the Basílica de la Macarena, which I visited earlier this morning with some classmates.

In past courses, I´ve learned that Christianity has been known to take on a polytheistic hue, especially when exported to, and forced upon, colonized peoples.  In some parts of the Andes, for example, the Virgin Mary is portrayed as a sacred hill, bearing meaningful resemblance to the Incan mountain spirit Apu.  In the Caribbean, followers of santería or Orisha disguised their pantheon of gods, brought from Africa, as Catholic saints.  La Basílica de la Macarena (and indeed, Seville as a whole), on the other hand, is proof that even one of the world´s most historically Catholic countries is not exempt from religious syncretism.   

The walls of the basilica are adorned with depictions of
Mary; the Annunciation, the virgin birth, the Assumption...
You name it, they´ve got it.

Upon entering the basilica, it is immediately apparent that absolutely everything about this place is about Nuestra Señora de la Esperanza.  Decked out in luxurious robes worthy of a queen and surrounded by egregious amounts of gold and silver, the crowned Virgen de la Macarena presides over the church, itself a product of painstaking, excessively ornate Neo-Baroque craftsmanship.  Painted images on the walls and ceiling depict the Savior´s mother in all her saintly glory.  And if you were wondering about the savior in question, he does make a small appearance on his crucifix tucked away in a corner.  

The church´s chapels contained other saints.  I think this
was another Virgin Mother.  Seville has a lot of those.

What´s even more astounding is that Seville has dozens upon dozens of Virgin Mothers, according to my host señora Pilar, all of whom make their rounds during Semana Santa, each of them dressed to the nines and riding atop a sort of man-powered, gold encrusted float.  Locals treat the procession as a kind of beauty pageant, yelling “¡Qué bonita!” at the figurines as they pass by.  I´m told that fierce rivalries brew over whose Virgin is the most beautiful.  This is something I´ve got to see to believe. 

Right next to the church is a large section of the wall that
surrounded Sevilla during the Muslim occupation.

Anyway, after visiting the basilica, I understood fairly well why Ángel had wanted us to include the church in our travels about the city.  Is this over-the-top saint worship some vestige of Roman polytheism?  Anyone unfamiliar with Christianity could easily misconstrue la Macarena as a goddess, given the fact that she had a whole freaking basilica built for her.  This is an extremely broad and baseless parallel to draw, but the issue is thought-provoking nonetheless.  

P.S. Evidently Macarena is a very popular name for girls in Seville because of la Virgen, and one such Macarena inspired (or demonically invoked?) the hit 90´s song.  The accompanying dance fortunately has not made its way into the sevillanas repertoire, as far as I know.