XPost: rec.arts.books.tolkien, alt.books.cs-lewis, rec.arts.books   
   From: hayesmstw@hotmail.com   
      
   On Thu, 19 Jan 2006 19:47:19 -0800, Russell Paradox    
   wrote:   
      
   >On Thu, 19 Jan 2006, Robert Kolker wrote:   
   >   
   >RK >Have it your way, then. Tolkien was an economic reactionary who hated   
   >RK >industry. From a technological and economic point of view he was just   
   >RK >the man for the Middle Ages.   
   >   
   >Do you think he hated technology as well as industry? I am not sure...for   
   >example, Elvish  "technology" seems to be consistently depicted as   
   >something positive - and it is pretty advanced, even by XXI century   
   >standards; based on that he did not seem to  be opposed to applying   
   >knowledge of nature to technological development.   
      
   Have you ever read Auden's "Vespers"?   
      
   And it is now that our two paths cross.   
   Both simultaneously recognize his antitype: that I am an Arcadian, that he is   
   a Utopian   
   He notes, with contempt, my Aquarian belly: I note, with alarm, his Scorpion's   
   mouth.   
   He would like to see me cleaning latrines: I would like to see him removed to   
   some other planet.   
   Neither speaks. what experience could we possibly share?   
   Glancing at a lampshade in a store window, I observe it is too hideous for   
   anyone in their senses to buy: He observes it is too expensive for a peasant   
   to buy.   
   Passing a slum child with rickets, I look the other way: He looks the other   
   way if he passes a chubby one.   
   I hope that our senators will behave like saints, provided they don't reform   
   me: He hopes they will behave like baritoni cattivi, and, when lights burn   
   late in the citadel   
   I (who have never seen the inside of a police station), am shocked and think,   
   "Were the city as free as they say, after sundown all her bureaus would be   
   huge black stones."   
   He (who has been beaten up several times), is not shocked at all, but thinks,   
   "One fine night our boys will be working there."   
   You can see then, why between my Eden and his New Jerusalem, no treaty is   
   negotiable.   
   In my Eden, a person who dislikes Bellini has the good manners not to get   
   born: in his New Jerusalem a person who dislikes work will be very sorry he   
   was born.   
   In my Eden we have a few beam engines and saddle-tank locomotives, overshot   
   waterwheels and other beautiful pieces of obsolete machinery to play with: in   
   his New Jerusalem even chefs will be cucumber-cool machine minders.   
   In my Eden our only source of political news is gossip: In his New Jerusalem   
   there will be a special daily with simplified spelling for non-verbal types.   
   In my Eden each observes his compulsive rituals and superstitious tabus but we   
   have no morals: In his New Jerusalem the temples will be empty but all will   
   practise the rational virtues.   
   One reason for his contempt is that I have only to close my eyes, cross the   
   iron bridge to the tow path, take the barge through the short brick tunnel,   
   and there I stand in Eden again, welcomed back by the krumhorns, doppions,   
   cordumes of jolly miners and a bob major from the Cathedral (romanesque) of St   
   Sophie (Die Kalte).   
   One reason for my alarm is that, when he closes his eyes, he arrives, not in   
   New Jerusalem, but on some august day of outrage, when hellikins cavort   
   through ruined drawing rooms and fishwives intervene in the Chamber or   
   Some Autumn night of delations and noyades when the unrepentant thieves   
   (including me) are sequestered and those he hates shall hate themselves   
   instead.   
   So with a passing glance at each other's posture, already our steps recede,   
   incorrigible each, towards his kind of meal and evening.   
   Was it (as it must look to any god of crossroads) simply a fortuitous   
   intersection of life-paths, loyal to different fibs   
   Or also a rendesvous of accomplices who, in spite of themselves, cannot resist   
   meeting?   
   To remind the other (do both, at bottom, desire truth?) of that half of their   
   secret which he would most like to forget, forcing us both, for a fraction of   
   a second, to remember our victim (but for him I could forget the blood, but   
   for me he could forget the innocence)   
   On whose immolation (call him Abel, Remus, whom you will, it is one sin   
   offering) arcadias, utopias, our dear old bag of a democracy, are alike   
   founded, for without a cement of blood (it must be human, it must be innocent)   
   no secular wall will safely stand.   
      
   ---   
      
   I suspect that Tolkien was not a Luddite, but an Arcadian, an Edenist, and so,   
   to some extent, were the other Inklings.   
      
   Lewis's "That hideous strength" seems to be Arcadia vs Utopia.   
      
   Is Pullman's dislike of C.S. Lewis at heart his Utopian dislike of Arcadia?   
      
      
      
   >   
   >He might have even been in favour of sustainable development if the   
   >concept had been articulated in his day; as an example, consider Aldarion,   
   >who cut lots of trees to build himself a Navy, but then took care to   
   >repopulate the forests (could have been the good influence of his wife... :-)   
   >although he had certainly his failings as a human being he does not come   
   >across as evil. This suggests that it is not industry itself he was   
   >against, but just mindless plundering of natural resources.   
   >   
   >A.   
      
   --   
   Steve Hayes   
   Web: http://www.geocities.com/hayesstw/stevesig.htm   
        http://www.bookcrossing.com/mybookshelf/Methodius   
      
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    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)