The Reaper Is not Grim

The world-view Fitzgerald paints in The Great Gatsby is bleak.  He describes a billboard with a pair of unseeing eyes overlooking a town covered in ashes:

“But above the gray land and the spasms of bleak dust which drift endlessly over it, you perceive, after a moment, the eyes of Doctor T. J. Eckleburg. The eyes of Doctor T. J. Eckleburg are blue and gigantic–their irises are one yard high. They look out of no face, but, instead, from a pair of enormous yellow spectacles which pass over a nonexistent nose. Evidently some wild wag of an oculist set them there to fatten his practice in the borough of Queens, and then sank down himself into eternal blindness, or forgot them and moved away. But his eyes, dimmed a little by many paintless days, under sun and rain, brood on over the solemn dumping ground.”

These billboard eyes that brood over the dumping ground are a parody of God.  God is supposed to look over the whole created world; God is supposed to know the workings of humanity and to provide for everyone’s salvation.  But God’s divine oversight is translated into a weather-beaten billboard depicting unseeing eyes, in Fitzgerald’s vision of the world.

And with no God in their life, the people in The Great Gatsby flit about their meaningless lives like moths,

“In his blue gardens men and girls came and went like moths among the whisperings and the champagne and the stars.”

The Psalmist has an analogous view.  We are as grass or wildflowers, which sprout and die away in a moment.

15 As for mortals, their days are like grass;
they flourish like a flower of the field;
16 for the wind passes over it, and it is gone,
and its place knows it no more (Psalm 103:15-16).

But the Psalmist sees the world much, much differently than Fitzgerald does.  God loves the created world God made, and each one of us.  We are not presided over by an unseeing billboard.  We do not vanish into emptiness after a short meaningless life like moths seem to do.  God’s love is from everlasting to everlasting—it is eternal.  And though our life in the material world seems to be as short as a wildflower, God’s love remains with us forever:

17 But the steadfast love of the Lord is from everlasting to everlasting
on those who fear him,
and his righteousness to children’s children,
18 to those who keep his covenant
and remember to do his commandments.

It is out of fashion to see the world as one created by Love, watched over by a Loving Creator.  And in many ways, it can appear that Fitzgerald’s vision of a world evacuated of God is happening now.  In Fitzgerald’s day, people spoke of God’s all-seeing Providence.  Hence Fitzgerald’s image of the unseeing eyes would have been recognized as a parody of God’s Providence.  Today, I fear, so few people think of God, that the meaning of Fitzgerald’s image would be lost.

Regardless of fashion today, there is a God.  A God whose love is unchanging and from everlasting to everlasting.  Time loses it’s meaning when we think of eternity.  From everlasting to everlasting means eternal.  The from and the to, are awash in the everlasting.

With God, life has more meaning, more glory, more pain, more struggle, more ecstasy than without God.  We are free to believe or ignore.  But our belief or lack thereof doesn’t change the facts of reality.  To invoke the Psalmist, a wildflower alone declares the care, the love, the existence of a Loving Creator.  And though we may be as wildflowers in our short time in the material world, our real relation to life involves a relationship with a loving Creator, awash in the everlasting.

 

Family and Ideology

I understand when parents are proud of their children.  I understand that having children feels like a blessing (and at times, I know, a curse?).  But where I am not living, I am witnessing something very strange, something intangible, something in the air.  I understand that parents are proud of their children.  But what does it mean when parents are proud that they have children?  Proud to be a family unit.  Proud of family as an ideology.

I had heard about “family values,” as a catch-phrase associated with right-wing politics.  I am now seeing what that means.  It is a pride that they have a family, that they are part of the “family values” ideology.

In Biblical times, having children took away the “reproach” of  barrenness for women.  Men wanted children to help with work and to inherit their wealth.  There was also an element of ancestor worship.  God tells Moses that He is “the God of your ancestors, the God of Abraham, of Isaac, and Jacob.”  Children had pride and reverence for their parents, grandparents, ancestors.

But that is not contemporary pride in having a family.  I love my parents, and my brothers and sisters.  But I’ve never thought that I was proud to be a family unit.  Family values strange as an ideology.  It’s almost a destruction of the innocence of children, when children are viewed as part of a political ideal.  It’s almost a corruption of bonds of love, when love becomes pride.

I am now witnessing something very strange in this family values, something intangible, something unsettling.

Joking about Wealth

I made jokes, maybe taunts

At the trappings of wealth

The clothes, the cars

In my poverty

My indifference to wealth

But we were all friends, then

It was all in good fun

 

It’s not fun, now

And we’re not friends, now

Getting and Spending

I think that western society finds its amusement primarily in spending money.  I know that I do.  It’s a real kick buying something new.  Almost more fun than enjoying the new thing that I buy.  William Wordsworth wrote this in his poem, THE WORLD IS TOO MUCH WITH US.  “The world is too much with us; late and soon,/Getting and spending, we lay waste to our powers.”  I wanted to entitle this blog simply, “Spending.”  But we also enjoy getting–just not as much as spending, I think.

We hear about how much poverty there is in the world, largely in developing nations.  But what we don’t hear about is community.  I’ve been impoverished and completely contented and happy.  This was in a small, rural town.  I spent many an evening sitting on back porches with friends, talking as the sun went down.  Or visiting with an elder family I knew.  Or basking in the sunlight on a summer afternoon with friends.  I read more philosophy then, drank but little.  Friends mattered more to me than they do now.

Now I’m more comfortable financially and it seems there’s always something I want.  I walked away from the casino today, which is all about getting and spending and only about it, with modest gains.  And I wrangled mentally about what I should have bet to make even more.  The stock market is the same–all based on getting and spending.  I just bought a new wool coat, but it’s too formal to wear to the blues club.  I’m thinking about buying a new leather bomber jacket.  Getting and spending.

I met only one person who said, “I have enough money.”  And that’s the only time I heard it in my life.  This person bought pots and pans for a women’s shelter with the extra money he had.  When I hear about poverty in the world, I wonder if the society in question has a sense of community that might their emotional wants more than spending would.  As was the case with me in my days of poverty in the small town.  In a society that derives its enjoyment from spending, as is ours, poverty is most certainly a curse.  But maybe poor societies are richer than ours.  (I most certainly am not talking about world hunger, which is a decidedly different issue.)  I’m not sure we can measure happiness by a culture’s ability to spend.  The cures may well be that we do measure our happiness by our capacity to spend.

An Environment Evacuated of God

I think we live in a world evacuated of God.  Back in the late 19th century Nietzsche prophesied the death of God, “Who gave us the sponge to wipe away the horizon?”  We are now in the 21st century, and in most public spheres God is dead.

What this means is that 21st century western society has lost the sense of the sacred.  We hold little sacred, do not hold each other sacred, do not hold the universe sacred.

This means that Nature is not sacred Creation.  It is a collection of unfeeling elements, molecules, atoms, quarks, and quantum fields.  That’s what makes a tree grow, a flower bloom, a river flow, the sunrise.

Since Nature is not sacred, it is easy for us to do what we want with Nature.  We can burn its forests, throw our garbage into its ocean, pipe our defecation and industrial waste into its rivers, kill its wales, tigers, bald eagles, fill the heavens with sulphurous fumes, carbon dioxide, soot, and fluorocarbons.

If we treated our fellow humans like this, we would be arrested, convicted, and incarcerated.  But doing all these things to Nature ends up doing them to each other.  Oxygen comes from forests, we fish the oceans, drink rivers, breathe the air, and animals are our fellows.  We think so little of each other, that we don’t recoil from indirectly hurting each other by violating Sacred Gaea.

I’m not sure science and legislation can fix our eco-system without humanity recovering a sense of the sacred.  And I’m not sure we can return to our holy roots and find our way back to the sacred.

Trends, Styles, and the Self

It seems that every time period is plagued by trends and styles.  I am old enough to have seen many come and go.  In my teens, it was “Do your own thing; be an individual; peace, love.”  I watched some of the music, now rock classics, yield to the sensitive, bland, forgotten music of the late ’70’s.  I remember fading out of pop culture in the late ’70’s and listening to classical music (symphony, not rock).  Then came the ’80’s with money, power, cocaine, preps and Yuppies.  I rebelled against these values angrily, though I was, myself, a prep at Harvard.  I can’t find a trend that dominated the ’90’s.  But today, it seems that LGBT is the centre of gravity, along with eco-justice, women’s issues, and pop culture.

I’d like to think that in universities there is free intellectual inquiry.  But this is not the case.  There are styles and trends there too.  Back in the late ’50’s, symbolic logic was the rage.  Philosophers and even anthropologists wrote their ideas in those strange (laughable) symbols trying to look all mathematical and scientific.  That eventually got debunked.  Then I remember existentialism coming around.  When I was in grad school and when I graduated from grad school, it was all gender issues, power dynamics, wealth and poverty issues, and Nietzsche was the prevailing world-view, along with Richard Rorty.  I watched Derrida and deconstruction come and go in about a decade.

The thing about trends is that there is power behind them.  If a person wants to talk to others in society, he or she needs to buy into the current trends.  The alternative appears to be isolation.  And if a person wants to publish, one needs to write and think in the terms that are current.  But I believe that everyone has an intuitive sense of the true.  I believe that Emerson called it the Oversoul.  We know when a given trend is ridiculous, or doesn’t fit with human experience we know.  We sense the vacuity of certain ideologies.  I believe that’s why I turned to classical music in the late ’70’s, for instance.

Some people dedicate their lives to following trends.  It is their quest to recognize the prevailing trends immediately so that they can be in the vanguard.  In the ’90’s it was goatees, in the mid-2000’s it was mountain-man beards.  Maybe in Hollywood or fashion this is a necessity to survive or to make a fortune.  But I suppose there is enough of the old hippie in me not to worry too much about trends and to follow my Oversoul.

To Play Like Darryl

“It’s fun,” Darryl said.

He was playing pentatonic scales in every key.

Up and down the keyboard.

That’s what it takes to be able to play like Darryl.

Playing pentatonic scales in every key.

And it’s fun.

New Music!

Hey!  Check out my new songs on iTunes:

“We Came Together”

“Space Blues”

Lyrics and music by me: Dr Dave Fekete

Jazzy, bluesy ballades.  Authentic sound–all recorded on Logic Pro X, but with a nearly studio sound.  Only .99 each.  Enjoy!

Criticism: Only Sophisticated Opinion

Of course the things that I like are better than the things that other people like.  I can bring intelligence and learning to support my likes and show why they are better than what other people like.  That is the way of the critic.  But for all the presumption of criticism, the reasons critics adduce for the arts they approve of are dressed up opinion.

Lately nihilism is en vogue.  “Moonlight” and “Manchester by the Sea” are examples.  This is because intelligent people today fancy themselves quasi existentialists and emulate Kierkegaard but without God.  Everything is meaningless and human effort is doomed to failure.  So they will come up with sophisticated reasons why art that favours this world view (their world view) is good.  I’ve been to Manchester, Mass.  I went there because Singing Beach is there and it is a beautiful beach and a solace from the frenetic pace of Boston.  Manchester is a place of peace, not a symbol for quasi existentialism.  My Manchester by the Sea and everything it means to me is as sophisticated as the Academy Award winning movie and everything it stands for.

We all have our likes and dislikes.  In school, they taught me “appreciation” for things I didn’t understand.  And to a large extent, they succeeded.  I now can appreciate things I didn’t like that much, before.  This has made my world expand and I am richer for it.  And the habit I acquired of appreciation continues.  There are certain arts I don’t like and I don’t bother with trying to appreciate.  And I think that this is a character defect in me.  But I can appreciate the fact that others appreciate those arts.  When I was younger, I would try to convince others that the arts they like, but I don’t, are inferior arts.  Now I affirm the likes of others.  That I may not like those arts is to my detriment.  But to assault the likes of others is mean spirited.

This isn’t relativism.  I remain true to my personal likes and dislikes.  Affirming that others have personal likes isn’t me liking those arts.  I still have reasons why I like the things I like, and reasons for the things I don’t like.  I will express my reasons, if asked.  But it all really comes down to, “I like this or that,–you like this or that.”  Live and let live.  I think that’s what an honest, and humble (remember that word?) critic would admit.

Home Is a Mental Construct

The band cost me a tear

They were from home

Brought up a memory of home

I have no home

Only a memory

A memory of friends

Former friends

Home is a memory

A mental construct

 

I went back

Encountered a memory

But was only a visitor

An emotional tourist

The faces I used to know

Who knew me

Knew me no more

My memory encountered strangers

Startling, sad strangers

Home is a memory

A mental construct

 

And yet

 

I wasn’t happy at home

Day after day stretched out my misery

Stagnation and stupefaction and boredom

And friends,–the faces

Faces I encountered again and again and again

And that counts for something

That counts

 

This all I forget

When I miss my home

Home is a filtered memory

A mental construct

 

Previous Older Entries Next Newer Entries