A
song by Blind Alfred Reed (1880 - 1956) and performed by Willie
Watson raises questions with no easy answers. Are we our brother's
keeper? And is the concern for our brothers and sisters (lions and
lambs? Trees? That rock you stubbed your toe on?) relative or
absolute? Do we help this one, but not that one? Her but not him? Us
but not them? Eeeny meeny miny moe.
Maestro,
cue up the song. We'll have a listen. See what we think.
Watson,
'Always Lift Him Up'
(click photo to listen)
(click photo to listen)
We
live in interesting times. Old folks, goes one suggestion, have
become expendable. The president of the united states (lower case
intentional: he could use the humility) is at best an ignorant thug.
A pestilence lives next door.
A
poet's task is to reflect in metered words and phrases the tenor of
the times. William Butler Yeats wrote "The Second Coming"
in 1919. The first world war had just ended. The so-called Spanish
flu had killed more than 20,000,000 people. Grim times.
Yeats
was a notorious rewriter. The version of his poem below is from 1921
as it appeared in the Dial Magazine. What follows Yeats' poem is a
bit of annotation. The poem has suffered pillaging for decades, from
a Joan Didion essay to an obscure rock band's title song. A Paris
Review article suggests the words and phrases of this poem are the
most used and abused --- few, apparently, understand Yeats' meaning
and many disregard his context --- in the English language.
The Second Coming
Turning and turning in
the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear
the falconer;
Things fall apart; the
centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed
upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is
loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence
is drowned;
The best lack all
conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate
intensity.
Surely some revelation is
at hand;
Surely the Second Coming
is at hand.
The Second Coming! Hardly
are those words out
When a vast image out of
Spiritus
Mundi
Troubles my sight:
somewhere in sands of the desert
A shape with lion body
and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless
as the sun,
Is moving its slow
thighs, while all about it
Reel shadows of the
indignant desert birds.
The darkness drops again;
but now I know
That twenty centuries of
stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare
by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its
hour come round at last,
Slouches towards
Bethlehem to be born?
Spiritus
Mundi translates as the
spirit of the world.
The
phrase,
according to most philosophies, is used to mean that all living
things on the planet are interconnected. Intrinsically. Innately.
Plato fostered this notion, and it was an important component of most
Neoplatonic philosophies both East and West. John Donne's poem, 'No
Man Is an Island' (published 1624), uses this idea as its theme.
Some
think even the broad scope of Spiritus
Mundi is short sighted. Is inorganic matter without spirit? And what
of other celestial bodies? What of the Universe itself? A long walk
off a short pier, this business. Enough, perhaps, to simply consider
the beast who slouches next door. What of him? Or her? Or them?
In
“The Waste Land”, published in
1922, T.S. Eliot has a poem that captures the same atmosphere of
impending doom as the Yeats' work. His opening stanza is entitled
'The Burial Of The Dead'. Eliot, however, chose to end on a somewhat
enigmatic, yet, essentially positive note. The end of stanza 5:
These fragments I have shored against
the ruins
Why then Ile fit you. Hieronymo's man
againe.
Datta. Dayadhvam. Damyata.
Shantih shantih shantih
The
meaning of the Sanskrit 'da' words can be rendered as charity,
empathy, self-control. The
meaning of shantih is
peace beyond understanding, and is the usual conclusion of the Indian
philosophical Upanishads. Eliot has said that he used
difficult allusions and Sanskrit incantations to make things
difficult for his readers. If a line is hard to understand, if
meaning must be worked for, then the thought will be better
appreciated. Or so thought Eliot.
Intellectual
hurdles or no, is our dilemma resolved, our questions answered?
Perhaps. Maybe. Charity, empathy and self-control are fine virtues
difficult to obtain. But what they offer one's brothers and sisters
and dogs and cats is not always what is wanted or needed. Alas,
alack. And peace beyond understanding? That 'beyond understanding'
does put the wrench in the works. That which is beyond understanding
is also beyond words and language. Doesn't leave much. Inanity
perhaps. How whimsical.
So:
Our brother's keeper? The ceremony of innocence is some long time
dead and drowned. “We are all murders and prostitutes.” Which is
to say that folks living in the proverbial glass house shouldn't cast
aspersions. Or, conversely, lifting others, lifts yourself.
Datta.
Dayadhvam. Damyata.
Shantih
shantih shantih
NOTES:
Plato,
in Timaeus,
wrote:
Therefore,
we may consequently state that: this world is indeed a living being
endowed with a soul and intelligence ... a single visible living
entity containing all other living entities, which by their nature
are all related.
R.
D. Laing, from his book The Politics of Experience, 1967.
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