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Rasselas (Johnson: VI)
continued from this
kill me now
Ch 19:
They hear about a hermit with a reputation for holiness, and go to see if maybe that's the path to happiness, or if he at least knows how to shun or endure evil. There are fields with shepherds along the way, so Imlac is like... well, poetry always goes on about the happiness of pastoral life. Maybe we could hang out with shepherds and see what they know.
The shepherds know that their lives suck. They're vague on good vs evil and on, really, most things, but they're "cankered with discontent ... condemned to labour for the luxury of the rich," and they're just dull and malevolent towards those higher up the social ladder. Nekayah is appalled and has no desire to spend any time around these people, but she can't completely believe that all the stories about pastoral happiness are wrong. She likes to imagine that someday she'll find happiness with her virtuous maidens, picking flowers she's planted and playing with lambs while one of the maidens reads.
Sure, Nekayah.
Ch 20:
They pass through a suspiciously decorative wood, looking for shelter, and find young people dancing to music, and find a palace on a hill where they're received kindly. He can tell they're not the usual sort and treats them magnificently, he's impressed by Imlac, and respects Nekayah's graceful manners. But he doesn't want them to leave and keeps persuading them to stay longer, which in another story would be creepy, but in this one is just going to be depressing.
All the servants seem happy, and the master the most fortunate of men, but it turns out that the Pasha of Egypt is threatened by his wealth and popularity, and has been plotting against him. He's had his defenders, but he's sure they're about to give way, and has sent everything away and is about to flee himself on the first sign of trouble. They're all sorry for him, particularly Nekayah, who is so upset she has to retire to her room. Afterwards, they head onward.
Ch 21:
The hermit! Of course.
When they first see the hermit, he doesn't seem happy at all, though he treats them courteously, and his behaviour is cheerful and pious. They explain that they came looking for advice from him on living a happy life, and all he can say is that "To him that lives well, every form of life is good; nor can I give any other rule for choice, than remove from all apparent evil." Rasselas is like ... ok, like you.
The hermit: NO. NOT LIKE ME.
It turns out that the reason the hermit is so courtly is ... because he's spent time in courts. He was very high up in the military, but he was growing older and annoyed with bullshit, so he decided to retreat from the world and contemplate plants and minerals and such. This was fine for awhile, but it's irksome and frustrating now and his mind is constantly disturbed with doubt and imagination (imagination is a very bad word for Johnson). He's forcibly removed himself from bad influences, but also from good, and he doesn't feel himself a better person; if you can only restrain yourself from vice by completely absenting yourself from the world, and so also failing to do any good in the world, it doesn't really reflect well on you. After comparing the pros and cons of society vs solitude, he'd actually just decided to go back into the world. He sums it all up concisely:
The life of a solitary man will be certainly miserable, but not certainly devout.
It's interesting, though of course it's impossible not to hear Johnson's terror of solitude and losing your grip on reality through no company but your own thoughts. (This will come back. Surprise!)
They're like... well, I guess we could take you to Cairo? They do, and he's thrilled.
Ch 22
Rasselas by now is part of a group of intellectuals, and tells the story of the hermit to see how they interpret it. There are various responses, the most interesting of which are the ones who talk about society vs individualism—don't people owe society their presence and contributions? Or alternately, don't people deserve the chance to retire into private life after they've done their time? One philosopher remarks that "the hope of happiness .... is so strongly impressed that the longest experience is not able to efface it." People hope for happiness so badly that they can't stop trying, no matter how much life shows that it's NOT HAPPENING.
Hi, Johnson!
He goes on to say that no matter how unhappy you are, when your life changes, you imagine that life as desirable. But soon things will be different! Because reasons!
Another philosopher breaks in impatiently that things are different now. There is a clear path to happiness: simply living according to nature rather than abstract theories and definitions and arguments. The model should be animals, not all this head-in-the-clouds nonsense.
Then he looks smugly around, impressed at his own genius. Okay, dude.
Rasselas very politely says, well, as it happens I'm trying to find happiness, and I can't doubt you, you're so learned and confident. What is it to follow my nature?
The smug philosopher graciously says that he can't deny humble young men access to his great wisdom, and explains: "To live according to nature, is to act always with due regard to the fitness arising from the relations and qualities of causes and effects; to concur with the general disposition and tendency of the present system of things."
Got it. Living according to nature is living according nature! That was super helpful, dude.
Rasselas realizes that this is "one of the sages whom he should understand less as he heard him longer." Heh.
The final line of the chapter is even better, though:
the philosopher, supposing him satisfied, and the rest vanquished, rose up and departed with the air of a man that had co-operated with the present system.
:D
kill me now
Ch 19:
They hear about a hermit with a reputation for holiness, and go to see if maybe that's the path to happiness, or if he at least knows how to shun or endure evil. There are fields with shepherds along the way, so Imlac is like... well, poetry always goes on about the happiness of pastoral life. Maybe we could hang out with shepherds and see what they know.
The shepherds know that their lives suck. They're vague on good vs evil and on, really, most things, but they're "cankered with discontent ... condemned to labour for the luxury of the rich," and they're just dull and malevolent towards those higher up the social ladder. Nekayah is appalled and has no desire to spend any time around these people, but she can't completely believe that all the stories about pastoral happiness are wrong. She likes to imagine that someday she'll find happiness with her virtuous maidens, picking flowers she's planted and playing with lambs while one of the maidens reads.
Sure, Nekayah.
Ch 20:
They pass through a suspiciously decorative wood, looking for shelter, and find young people dancing to music, and find a palace on a hill where they're received kindly. He can tell they're not the usual sort and treats them magnificently, he's impressed by Imlac, and respects Nekayah's graceful manners. But he doesn't want them to leave and keeps persuading them to stay longer, which in another story would be creepy, but in this one is just going to be depressing.
All the servants seem happy, and the master the most fortunate of men, but it turns out that the Pasha of Egypt is threatened by his wealth and popularity, and has been plotting against him. He's had his defenders, but he's sure they're about to give way, and has sent everything away and is about to flee himself on the first sign of trouble. They're all sorry for him, particularly Nekayah, who is so upset she has to retire to her room. Afterwards, they head onward.
Ch 21:
The hermit! Of course.
When they first see the hermit, he doesn't seem happy at all, though he treats them courteously, and his behaviour is cheerful and pious. They explain that they came looking for advice from him on living a happy life, and all he can say is that "To him that lives well, every form of life is good; nor can I give any other rule for choice, than remove from all apparent evil." Rasselas is like ... ok, like you.
The hermit: NO. NOT LIKE ME.
It turns out that the reason the hermit is so courtly is ... because he's spent time in courts. He was very high up in the military, but he was growing older and annoyed with bullshit, so he decided to retreat from the world and contemplate plants and minerals and such. This was fine for awhile, but it's irksome and frustrating now and his mind is constantly disturbed with doubt and imagination (imagination is a very bad word for Johnson). He's forcibly removed himself from bad influences, but also from good, and he doesn't feel himself a better person; if you can only restrain yourself from vice by completely absenting yourself from the world, and so also failing to do any good in the world, it doesn't really reflect well on you. After comparing the pros and cons of society vs solitude, he'd actually just decided to go back into the world. He sums it all up concisely:
The life of a solitary man will be certainly miserable, but not certainly devout.
It's interesting, though of course it's impossible not to hear Johnson's terror of solitude and losing your grip on reality through no company but your own thoughts. (This will come back. Surprise!)
They're like... well, I guess we could take you to Cairo? They do, and he's thrilled.
Ch 22
Rasselas by now is part of a group of intellectuals, and tells the story of the hermit to see how they interpret it. There are various responses, the most interesting of which are the ones who talk about society vs individualism—don't people owe society their presence and contributions? Or alternately, don't people deserve the chance to retire into private life after they've done their time? One philosopher remarks that "the hope of happiness .... is so strongly impressed that the longest experience is not able to efface it." People hope for happiness so badly that they can't stop trying, no matter how much life shows that it's NOT HAPPENING.
Hi, Johnson!
He goes on to say that no matter how unhappy you are, when your life changes, you imagine that life as desirable. But soon things will be different! Because reasons!
Another philosopher breaks in impatiently that things are different now. There is a clear path to happiness: simply living according to nature rather than abstract theories and definitions and arguments. The model should be animals, not all this head-in-the-clouds nonsense.
Then he looks smugly around, impressed at his own genius. Okay, dude.
Rasselas very politely says, well, as it happens I'm trying to find happiness, and I can't doubt you, you're so learned and confident. What is it to follow my nature?
The smug philosopher graciously says that he can't deny humble young men access to his great wisdom, and explains: "To live according to nature, is to act always with due regard to the fitness arising from the relations and qualities of causes and effects; to concur with the general disposition and tendency of the present system of things."
Got it. Living according to nature is living according nature! That was super helpful, dude.
Rasselas realizes that this is "one of the sages whom he should understand less as he heard him longer." Heh.
The final line of the chapter is even better, though:
the philosopher, supposing him satisfied, and the rest vanquished, rose up and departed with the air of a man that had co-operated with the present system.
:D