A Nineteenth Century Heart
Is there room for a nineteenth century heart in a twenty first century world?
“Be thou, then, one among mankind
Whose heart is harder not for state,
Thou only virtuous, gentle, kind,
Amid a world of hate”
Percy Bysshe Shelly
Has it disappeared altogether? Or is it deemed unpopular. No place for romanticism in a world that moves at breakneck speed and hurtles us forward. Lurching from one modern concept to another, leaving everything that went before scattered by the roadside. The astute historian would indeed carefully examine each remnant of the debris and piece together a society which on the outside portrayed a good effort at being idyllic but equally one that was infested with cruelty and hardship. The creation of a ‘fictional purity’ by the great and the good was always doomed to failure, unfortunately the façade left a trail of torment in its wake. It is true that society cannot function without coercion, this of course should not be confused with restricting an individual’s free will. A delicate balance indeed to be achieved. But Cleisthenes Athenian democracy although short lived, produced a template for the modern world. The challenge it faces and always has however, is that it is designed for us who parade on, as Carl Sagan explained, this ‘pale blue dot.’ A cornucopia of beliefs, emotions and ideals that make up humanity.
We look back at times gone by, with the warm glow of nostalgia and we imagine a better, safer, and simpler world. Sometimes however, nostalgia is a fog, a collection of brief memories gathered together to create a safe and wistful place that we briefly yearn for. We may delight in a warm cup of tea, the water boiled on the hotplate of the old Rayburn cooker, as we sit beside the open fire with the chimney breast slightly blackened by the occasional wisp of smoke caused by the downdraft. We revel in the simplicity of it and crave it again, but we conveniently forget the draught that whistled under the door and the coldness of the single pane of glass that separated us from the winter night. The present will offer more comfort, that is for sure. Can the same be said of romanticism, the craving of simplicity, the craving of a time when life was not as complicated. Or is it a denial of the pressures of modern living. Is there room for a nineteenth century heart in a twenty first century world? Does it run the risk of condemnation from an ever-increasing materialistic world, a place where an ever-growing cohort of people struggle, and conversation between partners is conducted across a kitchen table clothed in notices and bills. To tell someone in poverty there are more important things than money, will do little to alleviate their burden because even if they believe you, they will still need money tomorrow. Will that ‘fill all fruit with ripeness to the core’ for them ,a fine description of autumn by Keats indeed, but of little solace to alleviate modern day problems. Will the burdens and pace of this twenty first century world eliminate our ability to muse on the very reason why we are here in the first place. Will it remove the solace to be found in the remoteness of the mountain or the wonder experienced by Wordsworth when we see a rainbow. Will our hearts no longer ‘leap up when we behold a rainbow in the sky.’ Romanticism may well be left to a few stalwarts who in the fullness of time be regarded as whimsical air heads who would be better off concentrating on the economic here and now. Should we ban ‘The everlasting universe of things’ that ‘flow through the mind and rolls its rapid waves’. Shelly would be disappointed. Would it be wise to banish the dark, the glittering and reflective thoughts that go through our minds and content ourselves alone by the ticking of societal boxes.
In contradiction, the ever rapidly advancing pace of life may dictate that we cannot and should not abandon any of them. How else do we process the inexplicable? In what corner will we find the space and the quietness to cool a mind brought to boiling point by the relentless pressures of the world. The romantic heart will glorify the individual, search the nuances of their mind and seek the place where they find peace and understanding. It will rage against restriction and champion the cause that the creative spirit should never be limited by any formal rules of literature or art. It will wander the halls of mysticism and wish in brief moments that legends are true. It will have the courage to face death and ask death what it is all about. We started this ramble by asking was their room for a nineteenth century heart in a twenty first century world, now we will end by asking can we survive in a twenty first century world without a nineteenth century heart? What else will provide the hope, the peace, the understanding. The child must hold on to their wonder and we must leave room for Imbolgs and Lughnasas, for holly hung in barns and strips of cloths on trees. We must wonder if the Tuath Dé dwell beneath the stones. That is where the mystery is and the place where hope dwells.