Maudit soit a jamais le rêveur
inutile
Qui voulut le premier, dans sa stupidité
S'éprenant d' un problème insoluble et stérile,
Aux choses de l'amour meler l'honnêteté
[ 1
].
Before
attempting to tackle this question I would
like to examine the surface structure
of the above idea, that is to say the
particular way in which it has been phrased,
regarding such things as choice of vocabulary,
connotations, as well as references to
specific proper nouns and concepts.
And when I talk about proper nouns I mean
of course 'Sade' and 'Camille Paglia'.
It is all too easy to take an extract
of somebody's work, or refer to somebody's
ideas in a sweepingly laconic manner,
without further discussing one's philosophical
stances. And when it comes to Sade (known
to the layman simply as the man who is
etymologically responsible for the concept
of sadism) one cannot ignore the magnitude
of his philosophy. Some of the greatest
thinkers of the two last centuries have
acknowledged his importance. According
to Paglia 'his absence form university
curricula illustrates the timidity and
the hypocrisy of the liberal humanities
[
2 ]'.
Two semantically charged with negative
connotations expressions are 'lust', and
'free rein'. Examining the politics and
ideology of these concepts we can easily
identify them with a moral attitude towards
life and the universe which could very
well be the Christian one. It is not accidental
that I bring into my argument the word
'Christianity': it stands for the moral
background of the romantic era; it is
the dominant moral background of the romantic
era. Christianity has condemned the primary
instincts, which are the legacy of Nature
to man, by coining words that reflect
this human superstructure of morality
upon the intricate works of nature. Thus
sexuality is reinterpreted as 'lust'.
None of us wants to appear 'lustful',
or as giving 'free-rein', thus, it is
clear that the way the question has been
phrased is one that demands from us an
'anti-lust' and 'anti free-rein' approach.
Of course, the linguistic and ideological
exigencies of this 'interrogative' text
will not necessarily make us oblige. Of
course I shall not proceed to such sweeping
statements as 'there is no such thing
as romantic morality [
3 ]'.
A further point I want to make is the
force with which words and phrases connote
other ideas. For example 'back to Nature'
which connotes 'back to basics' and 'romantic
imperative' which connotes the 'categorical
imperative', and the whole Kantian concept
of a moral world order with its concomitant
inevitability. One cannot ignorer this
web of meaning stretching far from a sterile
and superficial semantic examination.
One cannot even ignore the possibility
of writing a satire based on this text.
Another point we have to make clear -since
our discussion is concerned with ethics-
is that the ethical standards reflected
in each particular poet's verse are not
necessarily the ethical standards applied
to his life. Therefore, we limit our discussion
strictly to the literary element of ethics
which is indeed very illusive and very
deceptive. It is like basing our judgements
on a politician by what he says before
he gets elected.
Having
made all these clarifications I feel slightly
more justified to proceed in the discussion
of poetry and poets. My first choice will
be a poet that possesses a certain affinity
with Sade due to his emphasis upon instinct,
energy and imagination: 'Sade's British
brother [
4 ]'
William Blake. Blake and Sade contradict
Rousseau insofar as man is not naively
considered inherently good but violence
is considered as the authentic spirit
of mother nature. Thus, they prefigure
the amoralistic theories which re-evaluate
old values in the works of Nietzsche,
Darwin and Freud.
There is no naive division in Blake between
body and mind. His poetry is suffused
in sex and violence. He celebrates the
physical and its manifestations extolling
'energy' instead of 'wise passiveness'.
He is more concerned with the quality
of his poetry and of how well he portrays
human characters rather than subjecting
it to inappropriate moral censure: 'Cunning
& Morality are not Poetry but Philosophy
the Poet is independent and Wicked the
Philosophy is dependent & Good [
5 ]'.
He is Dionysian insofar as he celebrates
intoxication and the free expression of
desire without any moral inhibitions:
'The road to excess leads to the palace
of wisdom' a notorious statement which
equates philosophy with the ability to
let go or should we say 'free rein'. In
other words 'You never know what is enough
unless you know what is more than enough'.
Desire for Blake is sacred and the inability
to satisfy it is sacrilege. He castigates
repression as a supreme evil; to use an
anachronism we cannot avoid thinking of
Freud who maintained that the basis of
psychoanalysis is repression. Probably
Blake's most pungent 'moral' statement:
'Sooner murder an infant in its cradle
than nurse unacted desires [
6 ]'.
The moral is quite clear here:: if you
lead a life of asceticism and renunciation
of desires then it is not worth living.
He also equates the genitals with beauty
- another dionysian credo.
If
for Blake nature is 'energy' then for
Wordsworth it is 'contemplation'. Action
is replaced with 'wise passiveness', a
wise passiveness probably not unalloyed
with a sour grapes element. Conspicuous
in Wordsworth's poetry is the absence
of the adult man with an active sexuality.
His poems teem with old men, children,
women and animals; that is when his poems
obviate from paying tribute to mother
nature's brooks, stones, woods, clouds
etc. As Paglia says 'a stone in the road
arouses more fellow-feeling in Wordsworth
than does a masculine man [
7 ]'.
Thus, Wordsworth becomes the paradigm
example of repression and sublimation.
Strangely enough his Preface to the Lyrical
Ballads can be read as a manifesto of
hedonism. I refer to the sentence in which
he speaks of what he calls 'the grand
elementary principle of pleasure', and
says that it constitutes 'the naked and
native dignity of man' that is the principle
by which man 'knows, and feels, and lives,
and moves'. Here one is perplexed: should
we trust Wordsworth's literary theory
or his poetry as the true expression of
his soul? Wordsworth believes in nature
and 'unaccomodated man' but a nature deprived
of its crass amorality and vulgarity,
s spiritualised nature. He talks about
'an impulse form a vernal wood...' using
something inanimate in his metaphor to
avoid the sexual explicitness of Blake.
Notwithstanding his abstemiousness from
explicit metaphors he declares nature
as the supreme moral agent and guide '...may
teach us more of man/Of moral evil and
of good/than all the sages can'. Thus,
it is made clear that the human morality
is artificial morality; but he is paradoxical
insofar as he claims that there is morality
in an amoral nature where the exigencies
of survival crassly disregard the individual
life. Perhaps, if Wordsworth had been
a peripatetic in some African jungle instead
of Lake District, he would have had a
more realistic conception of the 'laws'
and 'morals' that guide nature.
But ultimately one can understand Wordsworth's
poetry as sublimated eroticism which has
been projected into nature. His sexuality
has undergone the most admirable vicissitude,
it has become an abstract and spiritual
love for nature which corroborates the
Freudian theory of sublimation as the
cause of civilization, without resolving
the question for Wordsworth himself. But
sublimation is not a panacea as i) not
all libido can be displaced ii) only a
minority of people are capable of creative
sublimation and iii) sublimations by virtue
of their intrinsic nature are not capable
of really complete satisfaction. And we
reach to the crux: 'the desexualization
intrinsic to all sublimation... involves
a necessary component of dying to the
life of the body, and therefore cannot
ever satisfy the life instinct [
8 ]'.
Thus what Wordsworth so insistently portrays
in his obsession with nature is the reaction
of his Id to the stress it suffers through
sublimation. In the light of this we can
understand his later pessimism.
I
have decided to juxtapose Blake with Wordsworth
because of their antipodean world-view
which entertained the potential of resulting
in an interesting synthesis, ultimately
justifying my dialectical approach. To
recapitulate: Blake is the advocate of
the Id's Liberation Movement (or 'free
rein') whereas Wordsworth is the onanistic
master of repression and sublimation.
I have deliberately chosen the psychoanalytic
idiom as I believe that the subject merits
such an approach. According to Freud the
whole structure of modern civilization
is based on the desexualization of primal
energy and its transmogrification into
manual and spiritual labour. However,
the curtailment of instinctual impulses
has been so dramatic and so severe that
it resulted in a cultural neurosis gravely
afflicting modern man. Absolute freedom,
as it has been advocated by Reich, could
not be the answer to this predicament
as humans naturally shy away from freedom
in absolute terror. What is needed is
'a reduction in the strictness with which
instincts are repressed [
8 ]',
or, 'the restructuring of human relationships
on a different basis which could reconcile
nature with society without friction
[
9 ]'.
Humanistic psychoanalysis has attempted
a reinterpretation and a restatement of
the notion of love in a secularised context:
'Man
is torn away from his primary union with
nature, which characterizes animal existence.
Having at the same time reason and imagination,
he is aware of his aloneness and separateness;
of his powerlessness and ignorance; of
the accidentalness of his birth and death.
He could not face this state of being
for a second if he could not find new
ties with his fellow man which replace
the old ones regulated by instincts. Even
if all his physiological needs were satisfied,
he would experience his state of aloneness
and individuation as a prison from which
he had to break in order to preserve his
sanity. (...) the necessity to unite with
other living beings, to be related to
them, is an imperative need on the fulfilment
of which man's sanity depends. This need
is behind all phenomena which constitute
the whole gamut of intimate human relations,
of all passions which are called love
in the broadest sense of the word [
10 ]'.
We
cannot ignore the cosmogonic importance
of desire as the primary law behind all
natural laws. Modern physicists have attempted
the analogy of human love with the gravitational
forces at work in interstellar space.
The same way science cannot comprehend
the raison d'etre of the laws that govern
the cosmos, interpersonal love cannot
be explained. Dante, though, knew it all
along that it is:
'L'amor chi muove il sole e l'altre
stelle [
11 ]'
FOOTNOTES
[1] Charles
Baudelaire, Femmes Damnees Delphine et
Hippolyte, from Les Fleurs du Mal. (Delphine,
the lesbian heroine, goes into a snit
and curses the stupid 'useless dreamer'
who first mixed morality with love. The
'useless dreamer' can be nobody else but
Jesus Christ.)
[2] Sexual
Personae, p.235
[3] Irving
Babbit, Rousseau and Romanticism, p.217
[4] Sexual
Personae, p.231
[5] D.
Erman (ed), Poetry and Prose of William
Blake, p.633-4
[6] The
Marriage of Heaven and Hell
[7] Sexual
Personae, p.304
[8] Sigmund
Freud, The Ego and the Id, (Standard Edition)
Hogarth Press, vol.XII, p.60
[9] ibid,
p.60
[10] Erich
Fromm, The Sane Society, Routledge &
Kegan Paul, 1956, p30
It is very interesting how poetry can
surpass scientific prose in richness of
meaning and brevity of expression. We
could very easily paraphrase these 160
words of prose into 25 words of verse
and retain the same meaning - if not make
it even clearer. Now compare Fromm with,
simply, Wordsworth:
There
is a comfort in the strength of love
'Twill make a thing endurable
Which else would overset the brain
Or break the human heart.
(Michael, lines 456-460)
[11] It is repeated three times,
the the end of each part of his Divine
Comedy, and it translates thus: 'love
that moves the sun and the other stars'.
A very interesting juxtaposition of Dante's
'physics', with modern physics can be
found in Luis Racionero's book, Las Filosofias
del Underground, editorial Anagrama, Madrid,
1977