Edgar Lee Masters gave us Lucinda Matlock almost a century ago. That plainswoman, dead at ninety-six and having outlived many of her twelve children, speaks to us from her grave: “Degenerate sons and daughters, / Life is too strong for you– / It takes life to love Life.” Masters’ Spoon River Anthology, published in 1916, arrived just a few years after the Education of Henry Adams , whose great power comes from his very listlessness, his lack of purpose. That we see as twentieth century. But that tough old broad, that wonderful character captured in but a few lines and spanning the nineteenth century – she, too, has something to tell us in the twenty-first.
It takes energy to love life; it takes life. Striding through the world, facing life is embracing what is. That requires a certain toughness, a certain honesty. But the cynicism of post-modernism doesn’t face reality. It breeds the cynicism that deadens energy. It is cynicism that simplifies, that disengages. Cynicism pins the other, struggling pinned and wriggling on the wall. The cynics sometimes fancy themselves skeptics; would it were so. Skepticism notes complexity, asks questions. A skeptic is distinterested but intellectually engaged. A skeptic doesn’t welcome despair but does ask us to doubt our illusions. A skeptic asks, Is it worth it? But to post-modernists, there is no worth, so nothing is “worth it.” So a young man’s response to the stoicism and heroism implied by the lines of firemen taking last rites as they entered the burning World Trade Center was that such men were “sick” and Michael Moore assumes no one could consider their lives – nor their child’s life – worth “saving Fallujah.” [Sorry about the mistake.] The assumption in both cases is not that of someone who asks, are the lives saved worth the loss? Nor is there a sense that loving life is loving another’s life – indeed, of loving the many others, the unnamed and even unknown others. No, such a choice only comes from greed or insanity or stupidity.
But this is the air through which we move; we have seen cynicism; we have seen Chicago. We aren’t surprised by the phenomenon Virginia Postrel noted, the last-ditch, crazy, projection – if George Bush is the problem, then we don’t need to deal with the real problem. Sometimes it seems as if a lot of grouchy teens were awakened by 9/11 and are irritated at the world for making them get up. And Bush, well, if we can pin him with a phrase, we don’t need to deal with the facts his very presence reminds us are true.
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