The story of Cain and Abel has had permeating influence throughout many works of fiction (the titles of the modern American novels My Sister's Keeper and East of Eden are two obvious examples), probably because its subjects are so incredibly universal and accessible: brotherhood (or sisterhood), pride, shame, jealousy, ancestry, and revenge.
Cain (the elder) and Abel (the younger) are two sons of Adam and Eve. Abel is to tend livestock and Cane is to tend the land. Both sons make offerings to God: Abel offers fresh, succulent fat, and the best Cane can do is give God some fruit, with which God is not impressed (possibly because in most ancient societies, offerings to the heavens are only significant if slaughtering is involved). Cain becomes envious of Abel, the favored baby brother, and leads him off to slaughter, and with this God is also not impressed. However, He has the good grace to mark Cain so that no one murders him and Cain goes to live somewhere "East of Eden." Later, Cain's great-great-great-great grandson Lamech confesses to his two wives, Zillah and Adah that he has killed a man, and he exclaims: "If Cain is avenged seven times, then Lamech seventy-seven times."
Jealousy, however petty and unreasonable, is the primary source of most conflict between siblings. As in the case of Cain and Abel, and so many siblings throughout time, this jealousy derives from (or produces) rivalry. Throughout history, siblings have explored every means of competition, as there is generally tension between two people who are trying to do the same thing: make their parents proud. It's similar to the rivalry between co-workers applying for the same promotion, or a couple of high school students applying to the same selective college.
It is only through the bonding experience of enduring something together that siblings are enabled to see themselves as absolute equals. When the circus comes to town, and the season of our family's holiday gatherings have begun, my sister and I are able to connect with more empathy and understanding, as we realize that we are just two trapeze artists of equal talent, dependent on each other to get through the chaos of Christmas time.
Cain (the elder) and Abel (the younger) are two sons of Adam and Eve. Abel is to tend livestock and Cane is to tend the land. Both sons make offerings to God: Abel offers fresh, succulent fat, and the best Cane can do is give God some fruit, with which God is not impressed (possibly because in most ancient societies, offerings to the heavens are only significant if slaughtering is involved). Cain becomes envious of Abel, the favored baby brother, and leads him off to slaughter, and with this God is also not impressed. However, He has the good grace to mark Cain so that no one murders him and Cain goes to live somewhere "East of Eden." Later, Cain's great-great-great-great grandson Lamech confesses to his two wives, Zillah and Adah that he has killed a man, and he exclaims: "If Cain is avenged seven times, then Lamech seventy-seven times."
Everyone who has had siblings has wanted to murder them at some point. I remember wanting to kill my sister when she would tease me and say that my blonde hair made me look like I did not have any eyebrows. At one point, filled to the brim with rage at her taunting, I gave her the meanest pinch I could muster. As a result, the two gods of the house condemned me to indefinite seclusion in my room. This is the way of conflict between siblings--whoever throws the first punch is the one punished. (Who's to say that Abel didn't cast an unseen smirk at Cain, or mutter something God didn't hear?)
My sister has nice, dark, thick eyebrows and hair to match. She's seven years my elder and the agism exhibited by my family never fails to infuriate me. She perceives me to be the "cherished baby" of the house, and the "spoiled" daughter, because after she moved out, I received all the glorious benefits of an only child. However, she is blissfully ignorant of what it is like to live without companionship in the madhouse-inferno that is our parents' home. (The television blares from sun-up to sun-down if our father falls asleep on the couch on game day, and our mother is always blasting some horrendous genre of music in the kitchen for all to plug their ears and try not to hear.) Naturally, I have always been incredibly envious of my sister's freedom to waltz out of the house on a whim. Jealousy, however petty and unreasonable, is the primary source of most conflict between siblings. As in the case of Cain and Abel, and so many siblings throughout time, this jealousy derives from (or produces) rivalry. Throughout history, siblings have explored every means of competition, as there is generally tension between two people who are trying to do the same thing: make their parents proud. It's similar to the rivalry between co-workers applying for the same promotion, or a couple of high school students applying to the same selective college.
It is only through the bonding experience of enduring something together that siblings are enabled to see themselves as absolute equals. When the circus comes to town, and the season of our family's holiday gatherings have begun, my sister and I are able to connect with more empathy and understanding, as we realize that we are just two trapeze artists of equal talent, dependent on each other to get through the chaos of Christmas time.
As a younger sibling I feel like I can relate to your blog post a little bit. My sister is now twenty and even though she lives in the basement she is free to come and go as she pleases and often spends the whole day out with her friends, something I'm very jealous of. But despite the jealousy we're able to connect over things we both like, like LSP.
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