Upturned Earth

“… to think clearly is a necessary first step toward political regeneration.” – George Orwell

oakeshott, eliot, and sullivan walk into a bar…

Decontextualizing a fragment of Andrew in a top-form post:

“We live in a new world, and we can and should create meaning where we can”

Makes me think of Eliot (too many things do): “These fragments I have shored against my ruins.”—at the end of a portrait of the dissolution and fragmentation of the modern world, something is preserved, and there is that moment of peace fishing on the shore. And the thunderstorm (and rain!) that sets in motion the ability to begin to come to terms with the (then) new state of the modern world.

Though I’m fully capable of convincing myself a best-case scenario will happen (2003: I turn off the TV set as Paul Bako’s weak fly ball to end the Cubs’ run is still in the air, so I can hold out and feel optimistic until 7 am the next morning), I’m probably better described as a generally pessimistic person, so I may be too prone to seeing things with an “Eliot was right!” view. But I’ve also found myself defending the worthwhileness of the final ten lines of the poem, and the idea that it’s an optimistic poem because of the ending (and the rain! It rains at the end, dammit!): which is to say, I buy into that concept of shoring fragments against ruins.

So despite the fact that a later reader told Andrew that he was channeling Rawls more than Oakeshott with that post, I feel obligated to point out that with that line, he was channeling Oakeshott. There’a relation between his poetic/contemplative mode and the ability of Eliot’s narrator to stay sane—to stay human—at the end of the poem. “[I]mages in contemplation are merely present;” we have “only delight in their having appeared.” (This is a poor summary of what he means and says; but the alternative is typing an entire section of the essay—“The Voice of Poetry in the Conversation of Mankind.”) Like what one may do when lying on their back, watching clouds change shape. Or Eliot’s narrator fishing on the shore. (A day of fishing seems to me most emblematic of this poetic/contemplative delight in the world/images.)

To “create meaning where we can” and to shore fragments against ruins are interrelated (and potentially mutually dependant) ideas—but to do either, I would submit, one must be able to pause and delight in the world around them, as it is, simply because it is.

Filed under: philosophy

5 Responses - Comments are closed.

  1. Freddie says:

    But do we have the wisdom to create meaning? And does the fact that we know we’re creating disturb our creation?

    did we put on His knowledge with His power…?

  2. J.L.,

    You’ve mentioned Oakeshott’s contemplative mode twice now, I think. Do you have a longer post somewhere on that subject? If not, care to write one?

    Out of curiosity, how would you respond to Austin Bramwell’s take on conservatism-as-a-temperament?

    “That a man has a certain temperament tells us nothing about what policies he favors; conversely, that a man favors certain policies tells us nothing about his temperament. . . For these reasons, one who truly believes that conservatism is a temperament must, if he wishes to be consistent, refuse to express any opinion on who or what is actually conservative (as Michael Oakeshott, the author of the theory, in fact did).”

    -wrb

  3. JL Wall says:

    Freddie: Maybe “create” is a poor word for these purposes, now that I think about it more. I take “create meaning” to mean something more akin to “uncovering meaning” — the best illustration I can think of now is Michelangelo’s statement that in sculpting, he was revealing/releasing the form already in the marble, not creating on his own. Is that anything approaching an answer?

    William — I haven’t written anything on Oakeshott’s contemplation, other than in passing. Sounds like a good idea though — I’ll try to put something together in the near-ish future. As well as that temperament/policy question, about which for right now I’ll say that I think they’re different things which may or may not inform one another. For example: I think most people who know me well would have always said I was of conservative temperament, even when my politics were nowhere near that label. But I think that having a conservative temperament may make one more inclined to prefer conservative policies, because of the way they view the world. (That Bramwell piece has been on my “to-read” list for a little while now; I’ll probably have something more constructive to say after reading it.)

  4. J.L.,

    I hate to add to your list, but when you read the Bramwell article make sure you catch the responses by James Poulos, Noah Millman, Daniel Larison, and our dear host. Austin Bramwell never fails to be interesting, which is why I try to keep up with his writing; how often he manages to be right is a different question.

    -wrb

  5. Freddie says:

    It’ll do! My question was a bit more rhetorical anyway.

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