Of all of the mind boggling interpretations of our Romantic readings and complex discussions, this statement from the first day made a particular impact on my way of thinking about this course: Romantics experienced their world by walking. So simple. I know. Nonetheless, it posed a particularly obvious question: How do I experience my world? Digesting the question, I got into my car to go home when the answer suddenly dawned upon me. I’ll leave walking to the Romantics; I prefer driving.
A few years ago, driving represented the necessary evil to getting anywhere. It was a nuisance, and I avoided it at all costs. Recently, though, I’ve come to appreciate my car as a place where I can collect and organize thoughts, the portal to peace of mind. Since the semester began, I find myself overwhelmed with all of the information thrown at me in class, particularly Romanticism and Apocalypse: Literature and Critical Theory. And while I cannot sit here and recite all of the complicated particulars of class, I can assure you that this constant state of confusion has been more than beneficial to the way that I evaluate the world while driving. Even though I don’t come to any concise conclusions, I nonetheless find solace in my attempts. Reflecting while driving becomes a strange experience in itself though. My best thinking is done in a state of complete thoughtlessness, windows down, music up, hand swimming smoothly through the air.
Through the polarities of thought and thoughtlessness, I’m able to escape to a place unattainable by anyone else. Who knew that a car could provide such an escape? These thoughts particularly came to mind when reading Blake’s “The Marriage of Heaven and Hell,” namely this line: Importance makes strait roads, but the crooked roads without improvement are roads of Genius. Always driving around New Orleans, I know all too well of these “crooked roads,” though they take more of the form of potholes and protuberances in the roads. Created from the tension between the potentially smooth ride my car can provide and the streets that prevent this from happening, the perfect ride occurs, perfect because of its contradiction-driven energy. The ride may not be stereotypically smooth, and passengers can expect at least one gut-wrenching jolt to avoid a flat tire. However, these jolts remind of us that we are constantly in flux with the roads on which we drive, in flux with the world around us. The world’s roads come in a variety of lengths, types, and conditions and help serve as a reminder that not everything is laid out before us; we sometimes have to take a different route that may not be as smooth and provides a challenge. The rational car brings us along the network of imaginative roads, destination unknown
I can definitely see where you are coming from. I have actually been converting from car lover (I'm a veteran of twisting tree lined Pennsylvania back roads), to cyclist. I feel that you may be so comfortable in your car because today we live in a society of individuals that continually to find ways to cut themselves off from each other, because it is easier to be cut off than invested in the world around us. The car, along with so many technologies we all think are necessary, act as one of the many distractions behind which we hide ourselves, but without these distractions, I am not sure many people today could function. The simplicity of romantic promenades is something that many people today would probably find frustrating, boring, even a waste of time. Does this mean that the walks and the poetry they inspired do not hold as much meaning to readers today? I'm not totally sure, but I do know that the immediate human response to nature is something that is becoming further removed from our lives. Romantics may have felt more at one with themselves amongst the trees and the birds, we feel more so packed in cars with sound-canceling headphones in our ears. Is one right or wrong?
ReplyDeleteOff of Megan's note; yes, walks and the poetry that were inspired by them not only have meaning, but are relevant. T
ReplyDeletehe world maybe explained by facts, numbers and science, but at the end of the day, emotions and humanity are what is important to us all. Poets like Blake and Wordsworth wrote these emotions in a way that can be conveyed to others.
The reason that people do not seem to appreciate their works as much as we would hope is because they don't understand them. The prose/poetry writing styles and manner of speech are legible, but not easily read by those who don't study it. I know that I have a hard time with a lot of the works we look at until it is explained.
But while it may seem that all literary appreciation is lost, it still remains in our lives today. Religion, politics, social classes and love are very important aspects to all humans. They are important because we LIVE within their affects. Students like us, ULW (Unacknowledged Legislators of the World), are given the opportunity to have understandings of literary works and know that writers long before us held the same passions we do.
This is why Michael can sit in a car, listening to music and feel the reflection that great artists felt before him. Even better, he can carry Barbauld or Colerridge with him - keeping them meaningful.