{"id":872,"date":"2007-04-17T00:21:02","date_gmt":"2007-04-17T04:21:02","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.chrismclaren.com\/blog\/2007\/04\/17\/proud-and-unrepentant-part-3\/"},"modified":"2009-10-12T00:22:39","modified_gmt":"2009-10-12T04:22:39","slug":"proud-and-unrepentant-part-3","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/www.chrismclaren.com\/blog\/2007\/04\/17\/proud-and-unrepentant-part-3\/","title":{"rendered":"Proud and Unrepentant: Part 3"},"content":{"rendered":"

So, our discussions of the proud and unrepentant brings us to my personal favourite: the Lucifer of George Santayana<\/a>.<\/p>\n

Santayana<\/a>‘s book-length poem\/five-act play, Lucifer: A Theological Tragedy<\/a>, was one of his early works, and I think it’s fair to say is it’s pretty obscure. Santayana<\/a> is well-known for his contributions to philosophy, perhaps most notably in the field of aesthetics, and even more well-known for his quote about those who cannot remember the past<\/a>. He is very much not well known for his poetry.<\/p>\n

\"OK,However, that’s a sad thing, because Lucifer is a wonderful work that presents a Lucifer that is even more impressive than Milton<\/a>‘s: almost a hero, rather than an anti-hero. Additionally, it can be viewed as a project in highlighting the essential incompatibility between Christian theology and the Classical ideals–but you can read the story without worrying about that if it’s not your bag of tea.<\/p>\n

I don’t know how I first got onto this work–I must have seen a reference somewhere, but for some reason I tracked down a copy while I was in university. The university library had a copy in their “rare book room”, which meant I could read it on site, but not check it out. I did read it, and knew I wanted to have a copy. This, however, was before the days of ABE<\/a>, or used books on Amazon, so tracking down a copy would have been very difficult. (Incidentally, I ordered a copy<\/a> via ABE<\/a> a couple of weeks ago, no problem, for a reasonable amount of money–it’s a marvellous world we live in these days.)<\/p>\n

I decided to take a different approach, and photocopied every page of the book. I had plans to scan in the pages, OCR them, and produce my own edition of the work. Those photocopies sat around for five years, until I finally scanned them all during a fit of procrastinating something else. Then the scanned images sat around for a few more years because I never had the time or inclination to OCR them.<\/p>\n

Finally I recently decided to take the images and the OCR software with me on my flight to Australia, and pass some of the 30+ hours of travel by doing the OCR. I also did a quick Google search to pull up any scholarly articles I might find on the work, since I figured I could read them before going into the intense OCR proof-reading. And lo, and behold, my Googling turned up the fact that at some time in the past someone else had already done this project<\/a> (yay LazyWeb!) and there are both text<\/a> and PDF versions<\/a> of the book available online. The text version<\/a> is uncorrected OCR, and has some problems and the PDF version<\/a> required me to upgrade to the latest FoxIt Reader<\/a> to display, but still it beats doing it all myself. (I should also note that they have a bunch of other Santayana stuff<\/a>, including another collection of Santayana poems<\/a>, that I intend to read at some point soon–I’ll probably post about that later.)<\/p>\n

So, I can recommend that you all check out this phenomenal work. It’s free!<\/p>\n

And, as a teaser, I’m going to present two heavily-annotated samples, showing a couple of my favourite passages.<\/p>\n

First, we have Lucifer explaining in his own words, to a visitor that finds him in his exile, why he rebelled:<\/p>\n

Listen, if thou needs must know,
\nThere is among the stars one greatest star
\nWhich showeth dark, and none may see it shine.I know what Santaya was saying here, but everytime I still think about God hiding out in a black hole, like the Heechee.<\/footnote>
\nMen know it by their hope; a hand divine
\nMust darkly lead them thither from afar.Come on, admit it, it sounds like Heaven is inside the Schwarzschild radius of a black hole.<\/footnote>
\nBut once within its bounds eternal lightCome to think of it, time passed a lot more slowly for the Heechee inside their black hole hideout. I wonder if they would have seemed like immortals to people on the outside.<\/footnote>
\nStreams on their ampler souls, and there they are
\nWhat upon earth they would be. Of this realm
\nAn ancient God is king, majestic, wise,
\nOf triple form and all-beholding eyes.Lucifer gives God credit for omniscience, anyway. And wisdom. That’s interesting given what comes along in a moment.<\/footnote>
\nThe terror of his glance can overwhelm
\nThe sense, as lightning when it rends the skies.
\nThe dread words of his mouth are gladly heard
\nBut marvellous their meaning, not to prove
\nExcept by faith and argument of love. Here’s where things start getting good–the notion that Gos is spouting words that are marvelous in meaning, but only if you take them on faith.<\/footnote>
\nHe saith he fashioned nature with a word,
\nAnd in him all things are and live and move. “He says<\/em> that he made nature and provided the spark of life to everything.”<\/footnote>
\nTo that fair kingdom from primeval night
\nI passed, and clad in splendour and in might
\nI led the armies of my father, God.
\nMy right hand urged them with a sword of light,
\nMy left hand ruled them with a flowering rod.
\nBrave was my youth and pleasing in his sight,
\nNext him in honour;Lucifer paints himself here as having once been a true believer–isn’t that always the way; there’s no one harder on any belief system than an apostate.<\/footnote> till one day discourse
\nUpon his greatness and our being’s source
\nLed me to question : ” Tell, O Lord, the cause
\nWhy sluggish nature doth with thee contend.
\nAnd thy designs, observant of her laws,
\nBy tortuous paths must struggle to their end.” Seems like a pretty sane question: If you’re God, why do all this “following the laws of Nature” stuff to get your plan to where you want it?<\/footnote>
\nTo this with many words of little pith
\nHe answered.
\nAnd as when sailors crossing some broad frith
\nSpy in the lurid west a sudden gloom
\nAnd grasp the rudder taking double reef,
\nI nerved my heart for battleI love this passage–I’ve had that feeling before, when some starts talking and I can just see the argument coming in like a storm.<\/footnote>; for my doom
\nI saw upon me, and that I was born
\nTo suffer and to fill the world with grief.
\nBut strong in reason, terrible in scorn, I could live with that on my tombstone, I think: “Chris McLaren, Strong in Reason, Terrible In Scorn”. Heh.<\/footnote>
\nI rose. “Seek not, O Lord, my King,” I cried,
\n“With solemn phrases to deceive my doubt.Would that more people, especially talk show hosts, would throw this line into Cheney’s face.<\/footnote>
\nTell me thy thought, or I will pluck it out
\nWith bitter question. Woe if thou hast lied,
\nWoe if thou hast not ! Make thy prudent choice !
\nEither confess that how thou cam’st to beSo, if God is the ultimate Creator, who made him?<\/footnote>
\nOr why the winds are docile to thy voice,
\nAnd why the will to make us was in thee,Why does God need worshippers, anyway?<\/footnote>
\nAnd why the partners of thy life are threeAnd what’s up with this Trinity thing, anyway?<\/footnote>
\nThou canst not know, but even as the rest
\nThat wake to life behold the sun and moon
\nAnd feel their natural passions stir their breast
\nThey know not why, so thou from some long swoon
\nAwaking once, didst with supreme surprise
\nScan thy deep bosom and the vault of heaven,
\nFor I did so when fate unsealed mine eyes.So basically, Lucifer is saying “Either explain all the things about how you were created, or else admit that you, like the rest of us, don’t know the answers, and that your experience of birth\/awakening was of the same kind as mine”.<\/footnote>
\nThy small zeal for the truth may be forgiven
\nIf thou confess it now, and I might still
\nCall thee my master, for thou rulest well
\nAnd in thy kingdom I have loved to dwell.Now it’s “I don’t mind that you lied, if you admit it right now, since you’re a good master and I like living here”. This is surprisingly similar to the Brust climax I quoted below, where Satan offers an end to the revolution if Yaweh will drop his (false) claim of being Supreme God.<\/footnote>
\nOr else, if truth offend thy pampered will,
\nAnd with caressing words and priestly spell
\nThou wouldst seduce me, henceforth I rebel.” These three lines are possibly my favourite in the whole work. If truth offends your spoiled whims, and you try to “spin” me, I’m going to straight-up rebel. You gotta like it.<\/footnote>
\nI knew his answer, and I drew my sword, Interesting that he didn’t need to wait for an answer, no?<\/footnote>
\nAnd many spirits gathered to my side.
\nBut in high heaven he is still the Lord ;
\nI am an exile in these spaces wide
\nWhere none is master.Santayana’s Lucifer trades freedom from mastery (and deception from above) for exile in a place where there is no master. Compare with Milton’s Lucifer, who rejects having a master, but not being<\/em> one. It’s a nice distinction, and one that Santayana makes use of later in the story.<\/footnote> The north wind and the west
\nAre my companions, and the void my rest. Note also, that the void is “his” rest, with no mention of the “many spirits” that gathered to his side.<\/footnote><\/p><\/blockquote>\n

The second passage come from much later in the book when Christ visits Mount Olympus and basically tells the Greek gods that they have to bend knee to his father, or else they will die. The gods refuse, and shortly thereafter the death sentence is carried out:<\/p>\n

CHRIST<\/strong>
\nThe hour is come. All is that was to be.
\nThe gift I brought which ye would not receive
\nWas life, but death shall be the gift I leave.Ladies, and gentlemen, I give you: Christ the Hitman!<\/footnote>
\nI am the Lord of Immortality,
\nThe way, the truth, the life ; who lives by me
\nShall live for ever.“…and that’s the only way you get to do it. Bow down before the one you serve.”<\/footnote> You some inward voice
\nPersuaded once that you should ever live.
\nWhat privilege have you that you rejoice
\nWhile all things suffer? You shall also grieve.Yup, sounds like the Lord of Mercy to me, essentially saying “You think you’re so hot, but you’re really not.”<\/footnote>
\nI have endowed you with exceeding strength
\nAnd beauty, bidding time to spare your pride
\nAnd leave you young. But you shall now at length
\nGrow old. Vain and unsanctified,
\nWeary of pleasures, you shall yield your breath
\nLike waves that sink again into the sea,
\nNot having any voice to cry to me.“You’re going to die because I said so”.<\/footnote>
\nBut painless be to you the hour of death
\nFor you have sinned in all unwittingly
\nAnd full of stars the night on which you cease,
\nPassing forgetful to the realms of peace.“But hey, since presumably God made you this way, you can have a painless death.” Gee, thanks!<\/footnote> <\/p>\n

(Christ disappears) <\/em><\/p>\n

HERA<\/strong>
\nHe vanishes ! <\/p>\n

ATHENA<\/strong>
\nTis well. <\/p>\n

ZEUS<\/strong>
\nIf I must die,
\nTo-day at least I sit upon my throne ;
\nAnd not in fief I hold it. Tis mine own. Again, better to die the ruler of your own demesne, then live in fief. The people of New Hampshire<\/a> would understand all these defiant gods.<\/footnote>
\nThe earth, my temple, stands. My native sky
\nClaps me about with homage of sweet air.
\nThe kindly light of the unquenched sun
\nGladdens mine eyes. To-day the world is fair.“We’re here for a good time… not a long time… So have a good time… The sun don’t shine every day.”<\/footnote>
\nTo-morrow, if dark clouds rebellious run
\nIn flaming rack athwart the seas of heaven,
\nI shall not less have lived, I, mighty one.As much as I joke above, there’s kernel of real wisdom in here, both about how to live each day, and about how to look on misfortune.<\/footnote>
\nAnd there where night, the mother of us all,
\nBy the quick birth of light asunder riven,
\nBroods infinite and in her starless pall
\nFolds all the stars, there, children, is much room
\nFor you and me and him, when he shall fall,
\nWho judging others speaks his proper doom. I like this as well–the whole “he might be on top today, but we all end up in the same embrace of Night” bit is an even more lovely formulation than the “Your worm is your only emperor of diet” one.<\/footnote>
\nSome comfort it will be, when we abide
\nIn that unbodied realm, to see this ghost,
\nIll-boding spirit of impalpable pride,
\nEnter oblivion, and, hearing still his boast,
\nFeel o’er our face the shade of laughter glide. Now this is just funny: “Boy are we going to laugh at him when his turn comes”.<\/footnote>
\nWe also thought we should not taste of death,
\nBut it is fated. Fleeting is the breath
\nThat saith : I am eternal !These lines for me are the essence of youth, that we thought naively that we would not taste of death, but in a flash that moment passes, and it almost feels like we’re not even finished saying “I am eternal” before we get our first taste of death, and with it the end of innocent youth.<\/footnote> We were born
\nAnd we must therefore die. Such is the wage
\nOf being.This line is the other contender for my favourite in the book. “We were born and we must therefore die. Such is the wage of being.” That’s genius, that is.<\/footnote> Mourn, my stricken children, mourn.
\nInto the boundless ether breathe your rage. Do not go gentle into that good night…<\/footnote>
\nYou will be quiet soon. E’en now, meseems,
\nHis peace is on us. Lethargy of age
\nCreeps over nature, chilling all her streams,
\nAnd heavy with the languor of dull dreams
\nYe sit upon Olympus, and are dumb.Even divorced from context, that bit from “Lethargy” through to “dumb” is a powerful passage. It reflects the overall point of the piece–that age comes to all things, and even that which was divine can come to be stilled with age. There’s a sense in which it’s almost a respone to Ulysses<\/a>–yes, those who strove with gods might not yield, but when age claims even gods… well, it’s like the man said: “Death closes all”.<\/footnote>
\nNo longer from his crag the eagle screams,
\nAnd in the wood the dryad’s limbs are numb.
\nThe last sad summer of the world is come. There’s another lovely sentence. Someday I’m going to steal that. It hits the same notes inside me as “sic transit gloria mundi”, but since it’s in English it’s a little easier to spread around, you know?<\/footnote>
\nThe earth, that in her youth prodigious bore
\nMammoth and Mastodon and Titan bold,
\nScarce feeds the pigmies that she spawned of yore. And we’re back to science fiction imagery. This time post-apocalyptic, worn out Earth, dying from lack of resources.<\/footnote>
\nWeary she bows her palsied head and hoar,
\nLikening her fate unto the fate untold
\nOf by-gone worlds, while man, her nursling, gathers
\nThe utmost harvest from the laboured mould, Apparently Men keep striving even after the world itself has resigned from the struggle.<\/footnote>
\nEnvying the straitened fortunes of his fathers
\nIn piety content, though poor in gold ; And this I liken to the old “no athiests in foxholes” thing–that with hope extinguishing the future men will wish they had religion to turn to. It’s probably true, but that doesn’t change my<\/strong> position on religion generally.<\/footnote>
\nAnd on the barren peak he lived to climb
\nHe stands aghast, and vainly waxen old
\nPrays the sweet heavens. But the stars are cold. Now that’s some damn imagery–Man, have reached the apex of all his aspirations, facing the end of all things, and crying out to an empty sky. Damn.<\/footnote>
\nFool, fool, to chide his soul with ancient crime,
\nNor mark how earth and sky, together rolled,
\nHis loves, his labours, and the gods sublime
\nHe deemed immortal, slowly yield to time. And there it is, in beautiful words, the Big Secret. Our time will come. So it goes. Time will eat everything–all of us, everything we do and strive for, every dream we’ve ever had, and even every ideal we ever aspired to. Now, here’s the trick: to know that, and really know it, but not let it bow your head. Remember: “To-morrow, if dark clouds rebellious run \/ In flaming rack athwart the seas of heaven, \/ I shall not less have lived”.<\/footnote><\/p><\/blockquote>\n

Is that mighty, or what? (Did anyone make it down this far? Bueller? Anyone notice that I quoted shorter versions of both of these passages<\/a> before?)<\/p>\n

Coming next:<\/strong> We set aside Lucifers and move on to another proud and unrepentant fellow… a Scottish author.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

So, our discussions of the proud and unrepentant brings us to my personal favourite: the Lucifer of George Santayana. Santayana‘s book-length poem\/five-act play, Lucifer: A Theological Tragedy, was one of his early works, and I think it’s fair to say is it’s pretty obscure. Santayana is well-known for his contributions to philosophy, perhaps most notably in the field of aesthetics,… Read more →<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":13,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":false,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[8],"tags":[416,100,264],"class_list":["post-872","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-books","tag-lucifer","tag-poetry","tag-santayana","xfolkentry"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p5UQvw-e4","_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.chrismclaren.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/872","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.chrismclaren.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.chrismclaren.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.chrismclaren.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/13"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.chrismclaren.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=872"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"http:\/\/www.chrismclaren.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/872\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":3171,"href":"http:\/\/www.chrismclaren.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/872\/revisions\/3171"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.chrismclaren.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=872"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.chrismclaren.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=872"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.chrismclaren.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=872"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}