There is an evening coming in
Across the fields, one never seen before
That lights no lamps.
--Larkin.
'The fact that this guy is a contender for POTUS makes the whole country look like a bunch of fucking idiots.'
{--an honest appraisal by someone on CiF, The Guardian}
~
I don't think Larkin is of much help here. Yes, in a general sense I suppose there's something to the widespread demise of the hold of religion on society, the retreating sea of faith, the roar that is no more. It wouldn't be far wrong to say that what remains when the tide is out are old half-buried structures and memories, remnants of an older way of thinking, half-discarded objects, images, forms-all redolent of a style of thinking, a way of being in the world that has for all practical purposes disappeared. The existence of so much fanaticism really just confirms that-more so, you think, than any degree of atheism or agnosticism.
At a personal level, though, Larkin doesn't speak to you. I suppose a lack of faith, an awareness that we are entering the evening of the mind, might lead to despair, or existential angst-and either can signal the beginning of something new, perhaps a return of sorts (though you doubt it..once a tradition is broken it can never be patched up). Whatever we are must by necessity speak in the language of our times: older modes of thought can never really be retained, except at a terrible cost.
With Larkin though-and this may just be the effect of the drab voice-there is a kind of resignation to the fact: 'Death is no different withstood than whined at'. That kind of attitude is pointless, as redundant as a scientific study of religious attitudes, as far off the mark as the belief that science or materialism can ever transcend religion. For anyone who takes religion seriously these changes in society reflect at best a 'climate of opinion' that has helped undermine religious ground. But when all is said and done, something remains..
~
There's a lovely chapter by Richard Hoggart on faith and religion. Hoggart sounds like a kindred soul. There's a confidence in the writing that reflects a confidence in thought. But confidence doesn't mean the absence of scepticism, tentativeness, double-takes-far from it! His writing appeals precisely because it is shot through with tangible, sensuous thought. The question of 'belief' ceases to be a question or, rather, a pressing question. I think that's right. There's something Jewish about it (see Putnam's Guide..).
Religion without God. Not, perhaps, in the non-theistic (Buddhist) sense. But a reflection of what is most important to us (friendship, art, love, morality, music..), things that already carry the sense of religion with them, an idea of first things, obligations, deep commitments, an opening up to other realms, the notion of 'second spaces'.
~
You stood at twighlight with the others, shoulder to shoulder. Above, bats darting just above our heads. The ritual prayer at a funeral is strange, quite different from the daily prayers. In effect, there is hardly any movement of the body (but neither is it a 'quiet moment of personal reflection'). It is still a ritual, communal prayer. But we stand there, in a large unused lawn, the evening coming in, almost motionless, almost at one. There is nothing to say. It doesn't fail to impress you that this is a very old ritual. For how many thousands of years have others stood like this? No-one can stand death, or stand against it. A second-hand thought like this makes little difference. But, still, there is something to be said about participating, even if unthinkingly, in a ritual that helps remember another human being.
If asked I would remain silent; but if pressed I guess I would say: in human beings (not humanity-since that already strikes a false note and is too bombastic). Or some human capacity. Not for truth-is that really important at the end of the day? Not language or thought or tool-making either. The freedom to believe already suggests a sense of distances and absences that underlie and ground all the others.To look for an independent, defining quality is absurd anyway. That is not to say that there isn't an orthodox set of beliefs that one is supposed to affirm but what, really, is affirmation? What do we truly deny, and what do we truly give our assent to?
Love: I want you to be.
Doesn't everything ultimately revolve around that? Isn't that, in a simple formula, the history of all that is, and has been, best in humankind?
Across the fields, one never seen before
That lights no lamps.
--Larkin.
{--an honest appraisal by someone on CiF, The Guardian}
~
I don't think Larkin is of much help here. Yes, in a general sense I suppose there's something to the widespread demise of the hold of religion on society, the retreating sea of faith, the roar that is no more. It wouldn't be far wrong to say that what remains when the tide is out are old half-buried structures and memories, remnants of an older way of thinking, half-discarded objects, images, forms-all redolent of a style of thinking, a way of being in the world that has for all practical purposes disappeared. The existence of so much fanaticism really just confirms that-more so, you think, than any degree of atheism or agnosticism.
At a personal level, though, Larkin doesn't speak to you. I suppose a lack of faith, an awareness that we are entering the evening of the mind, might lead to despair, or existential angst-and either can signal the beginning of something new, perhaps a return of sorts (though you doubt it..once a tradition is broken it can never be patched up). Whatever we are must by necessity speak in the language of our times: older modes of thought can never really be retained, except at a terrible cost.
With Larkin though-and this may just be the effect of the drab voice-there is a kind of resignation to the fact: 'Death is no different withstood than whined at'. That kind of attitude is pointless, as redundant as a scientific study of religious attitudes, as far off the mark as the belief that science or materialism can ever transcend religion. For anyone who takes religion seriously these changes in society reflect at best a 'climate of opinion' that has helped undermine religious ground. But when all is said and done, something remains..
~
There's a lovely chapter by Richard Hoggart on faith and religion. Hoggart sounds like a kindred soul. There's a confidence in the writing that reflects a confidence in thought. But confidence doesn't mean the absence of scepticism, tentativeness, double-takes-far from it! His writing appeals precisely because it is shot through with tangible, sensuous thought. The question of 'belief' ceases to be a question or, rather, a pressing question. I think that's right. There's something Jewish about it (see Putnam's Guide..).
Religion without God. Not, perhaps, in the non-theistic (Buddhist) sense. But a reflection of what is most important to us (friendship, art, love, morality, music..), things that already carry the sense of religion with them, an idea of first things, obligations, deep commitments, an opening up to other realms, the notion of 'second spaces'.
~
You stood at twighlight with the others, shoulder to shoulder. Above, bats darting just above our heads. The ritual prayer at a funeral is strange, quite different from the daily prayers. In effect, there is hardly any movement of the body (but neither is it a 'quiet moment of personal reflection'). It is still a ritual, communal prayer. But we stand there, in a large unused lawn, the evening coming in, almost motionless, almost at one. There is nothing to say. It doesn't fail to impress you that this is a very old ritual. For how many thousands of years have others stood like this? No-one can stand death, or stand against it. A second-hand thought like this makes little difference. But, still, there is something to be said about participating, even if unthinkingly, in a ritual that helps remember another human being.
If asked I would remain silent; but if pressed I guess I would say: in human beings (not humanity-since that already strikes a false note and is too bombastic). Or some human capacity. Not for truth-is that really important at the end of the day? Not language or thought or tool-making either. The freedom to believe already suggests a sense of distances and absences that underlie and ground all the others.To look for an independent, defining quality is absurd anyway. That is not to say that there isn't an orthodox set of beliefs that one is supposed to affirm but what, really, is affirmation? What do we truly deny, and what do we truly give our assent to?
Love: I want you to be.
Doesn't everything ultimately revolve around that? Isn't that, in a simple formula, the history of all that is, and has been, best in humankind?
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