Katherine's Blog: Blake, Harrigan and Hopkins

After I finished today’s reading I was a little confused. It may have to do with the fact that I woke up this morning to “one of those days,” and I wasn’t quick to see Blake and Hopkins’ poems and Harrigan’s account of a zookeeper being killed by a tiger as perfect examples for maintaining a “pro-active, positive attitude” (Course website) and being brought to the One or any other sort of presence. So I had to sit for a long time—grumpily I may add—and try to make some sort of connection. And I kept saying to myself, “What does all this have to do with anything? It’s all just talking about nature!” And of course, for someone who professes to being connected to and highly influenced by nature, this statement should bring me right to the answer: an answer which, after all, is “never the answer,” and is perhaps only an opportunity to accept a mystery. In a sort of paradox, I associate nature, at least on paper, as an object absent of any supernatural forces or mysticism, a pure biological force. And any “Wow factor” I get from nature—the sight of an incredibly blue lake, for example—I would attribute as an incredible and overpowering testament to nothing else but life, not necessarily some other sort of being. But it’s the sense of purity that nature has that can truly unify us all—that can serve as “the sense of the Presence, the Force, the One, the sacred, whatever in this world.” (Course website) Nature has no hidden agenda: it is what it is. Everything that operates within nature follows its rules—except for us it seems. I would argue that what we need for explanations and for a sense of wonder and mystery is a return to nature.

Adam and Eve is an example of what was humanity's most innocent time, when they lived peacefully in nature. After Adam and Eve ate from the Tree of Knowledge they were introduced to sin (and perhaps entered into the world of experience?) This is actually Blake's rendition.

http://biblioklept.files.wordpress.com/2008/03/blake_satan_adam_eve.jpg?w=400&h=524

I learned a little about Blake in high school by reading parts of the Songs of Innocence and the Songs of Experience. Blake wrote a lot about the loss of innocence. In “The Lamb” for example, our teacher pointed out that like the lamb who is led to slaughter, children are brought up to grow, change and die in the adult realm of experience. It is ultimately a depressing notion, but Blake’s religious language reminds us that there is a way out: resurrection and a return to life through Christ. (I’ve mentioned before that I’m not quite sure how I feel about religion. I’m not even sure that I like the idea of heaven, so I’m going to leave the religious out of my DB for now. I don’t feel I could do that argument justice.) Another “way out” is embracing nature and attempting to really understand it and our place there. In this way, we can help dispel our fears, through greater understanding.

Take tigers at the zoo for example. “[T]hey grow more alert than most people would care to realize when children pass before their gaze.” (Harrigan, 154) When I was little I would have thought it was “so cool” that the tiger was paying me so much attention: “Look, Mom! He’s watching me! We’re friends!” But now, knowing that the tiger was stalking me, as its prey, I would naturally feel uneasy and look away. Obviously it’s not wise to live a naïve life, but wasn’t the innocent life better? As knowledge chipped away at our innocence, so can it be used to achieve a greater understanding and give us back the sense of trust and contentment we felt in the world of innocence. By understanding that the tiger is “just being a tiger,” (Harrigan, 155) we can understand that danger is simply natural and that not everything need be perfect and safe. The same may be applied to people: some people have just “been snarly ever since [they were] cub[s].” (Harrigan, 151) By accepting nature as it is, we can lower our own expectations and be content with what is. We can treat people we can’t get along with with the understanding that that’s just who they are and approach them with a sense of acceptance.

It's interesting how our perception of the tiger changes over time.

http://www.davidbjack.com/Bengal_Tiger_Stalking.jpg

Blake’s poem “The Tiger” is related to this issue. “The Tiger,” a poem in the Songs of Experience serves as a parallel to “The Lamb” which is found in the Songs of Innocence. Both involve the issue of creation and existence, although with recognizably different undertones. Blake is wrestling with the presence of evil and destruction in a world created by God, asking, “Did He who made the lamb make thee?” (Blake 146) Blake creates the sense of the tiger as an unnatural object, being created by “the hammer,” “the chain,” “the furnace,” and “the anvil” (Blake 146) and has a hard time reconciling the world of the lamb and one which would have a tiger: the realms of innocence and experience. Ultimately, however, I think we must accept forces like the tiger and the lamb equally. They are both here, and nature gives preference to neither. In accepting that there are less-than-perfect forces in the world, we can come closer to seeing the world as it truly is and not be caught up by what it ought to be. With recognition of what we would consider life’s flaws and an appreciation of nature and life itself, I think we can truly come closer to the idea of complete trust in the universe we felt when we still lived in the world of the “innocent.”

Hopkins' "The Windhover," provides some insight into a creature which is so completely entrenched within nature that it can use it to its advantage. The Windhover (which I didn't at first realize was exactly as it sounds) is a bird which has the ability to hover in midair and rides the air currents like a stallion, "a dapple-drawn." (Hopkins, 159) Hopkins speaks of the bird with reverence and describes the birds "ecstasy" (Hopkins 159) and how Hopkins' "heart in hiding/ Stirred for a bird" (Hopkins 159) upon watching it in flight. The short and oddly indented lines indicate some of the excitement Hopkins felt upon observing this outstanding natural phenomenon. Although Hopkins meant this poem to have a religious meaning, (he dedicated it, in fact, "To Christ our Lord." (Hopkins 159)) there's also a natural one. The windhover can teach us how much nature serves as a helping force. While humans tend to regard nature as a somewhat primitive force to avoid, it serves quite well for the rest of Earth's inhabitants.

Finally, Hopkins’ poem, “The Sea and the Skylark,” speaks somewhat about what we are missing as we turn away from nature. The poem initially describes the sounds of the sea and the skylark (big surprise), “two noises too old to end” (Hopkins 159) and then notes how these two noises, “shame this shallow and frail town,” (Hopkins 159) how the life of the people pales in comparison to the connection to nature and pure life that the skylark and sea have maintained. We “have lost that cheer and charm of earth’s past prime” (Hopkins 159) and our practices harm not only ourselves and our own well-being but the world around us: “our make and making break...” (Hopkins 159) The slight change in Hopkins’ language between the very rhythmical and alliterative first two stanzas and the more subdued language of the last two emphasizes that fact: we have lost something in leaving nature. Hopkins poem is a reminder of the power, beauty and completeness of nature and the harm we are doing to ourselves by leaving it.