Why? You don't think someone can have had excellent personal character while still being a product of a time and place that inculcated harmful group chauvinism? Might as well throw out all of Greek philosophy with that attitude.
This is the zeitgeist of today: no nuance, no complexity. One cannot be both good and bad in same lifetime. One cannot be both flawed and redemptive. Witness the crucifixion of Ernest Hemingway, Hunter S. Thompson, Rudyard Kipling, and countless other writers from the past.
Perhaps you are right. But reading the link which OP provided, I was expecting to hear how terrible a man Kipling must have been to support racist imperialism regardless of the beauty he also produced. If I jumped the gun, I apologize.
I think it's fair to say he was quite a reactionary even for the standards of the time. In my opinion, that does not erase the beauty he produced, and neither does that beauty erase his less unsavory featured.
But yes I'm quite against the tendency to crucify dead people, which is annoyingly prevalent in some circles.
The systematic destruction of everything strong and good in the past is done on purpose to disorient and make people more open to dramatic, sudden change.
Even for his time he didn't an "excellent personal character". That being said I'm generally in favour of separating the author from the art and against putting people on a pedestal in general.
I think the first world war also changed him in this regard, but I may be wrong.
See the poem, (and play, and film adaptation - which is a moving depiction of his experience of his son being killed) my boy jack.
Although as for "product of his time" and WW1 poetry in general, remember that Wilfred Owen was writing around the same time and is very much ahead of many warmongers to this day. People are products of their circumstances, cultural and temporal.
A friend of mine's great-whatever apparently confessed on his deathbed to having shot his commanding officer who had begun summarily executing retreating soldiers for deserting (i.e. not walking directly into a wall of machine gun fire)
I have this opinion of Churchill too. Should we solely praise him, absolutely not, was he still one of the great men of history, yes.
That being said the former viewpoint is still being elucidated to many people so I am not overly critical of those who express it too enthusiastically.
The Mythos of Churchill must be challenged, just as the good celebrated and analysed.
Very few people seem to know of Clement Attlee these days, which is probably a tragedy considering his influence on what really matters in Britain today.
Maybe you didn't read the actual poem or maybe you don't understand it, or maybe I'm misinterpreting your reason for sharing this with an implied concern. However it turns out, it should be clear that the poem itself is multi-layered. It is, to me, from the perspective of somebody who has the prescribed duty to apply their culture's ideals to a peoples not compatible; a lament of the perceived need to do so. It is (again, to me) clearly not some kind of racist screed... unless you read it with an eye to specific terms and associations without considering any context, either from the poem itself or from the circumstances leading to its writing.
I can't edit on mobile otherwise I would have, but...
A very related work, if assuming the "imperialist" interpretation of The White Man's Burden, is the documentary Empire of Dust[0]. In this, a Chinese man is sent to a region in Africa to help build up various capabilities and the subsequent philosophical and practical issues that arise. I highly recommend it, but only if you (the watcher) can set aside your preexisting notions on the topics addressed.
This is, in fact, quite relevant. The poem "If" is, largely, an endorsement of traditional norms of masculinity, and the same sort of far-right conservatism is the source of the racist prejudices in The White Man's Burden--and in his other famous work, The Jungle Book.
In fact, the connection between the poem "If" and colonialism is even more direct:
> To take one example, Rudyard Kipling’s poem ‘If…’ (1895), which acts as a guide to manhood for his son, takes inspiration from colonial administrator Leander Starr Jameson, presenting him as the ideal man.
Thank you.
I think this idea that there's a perfect ideal to strive for is present in all culture. From someone educated in "Western" values but living with "Eastern" tradition (simplifying a lot here), I've (personally) always read Kipling as very pretentious, and a relic of an older time. However seeing how often it comes up in forums and how people always laud it when it does, I think it strikes a chord with a certain mindset (that flies past my head unfortunately), and by that it will be a poem that continues to be a guiding light.
My belief is that people however should understand the context of something, even more so if it is a text that they treasure.
The Jungle Book is the best children's book ever written. I'd like to see a study of adult life outcomes based on whether their parents read them The Jungle Book. I think it would be revealing.
The White Man's Burden is definitely a dangerous poem, it's bad to uncritically spread its message of simple cultural superiority.
But lets not pretend that it is some off-the-rails racist screed. We still do try to export our cultural values to developing nations (e.g. women's education to Afghanistan, or elimination of FGM in Africa) and are sometimes resented for it. We should be pushed to champion those kinds of causes, even if they are thankless.
Now those cultural values certainly aren't spread in a vacuum; they are usually accompanied by other less-benevolent forms of imperialism. Exploitation isn't what Kipling is calling for; he is certainly racist, but he is trying to be benevolent.
My dad had a plaque made with this poem on it when I was a kid. It was eventually lost in moves and I didn't know about it until I was about a senior in high school. I move a lot at the moment, but once a settle down, it'll absolutely be on the wall.
I just think that concept wanting your son to embrace that poem is sweet, but I have a bias.
And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
That Welsh bloke had a pretty decent turn of word.
Is English a second language for you? I note back ticks - ` instead of single quotes - '
To be honest, I don't think you need this poem to be explained to you by someone else - it is what you make of it. The language used is so simple - no word has more than two syllables. The reason you love it is because that Welsh bloke is so skillful in his turn of phrase and how he deploys words. He slaps words on a page and each word has a cadence, set of syllables and a rhythm. He knows how to bolt words together and intertwine them into a poem.
You already know what this poem means because you have already said that you have always loved it.
Perhaps you should read it to someone close to you and discuss it ...
My mother hung this poem over the bathroom in my house when i was a kid. I probably read it 1k times. Great stuff!
Another excerpt of my favorite bathroom poems:
“Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds and shall find me unafraid.
It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.”
I always interpreted it as something you summon in hardship. In those moments pride can be a savior (think depression, or recovering from a hard injury).
I agree that depending on the context, it can be interpreted differently, and I also accept that poetry will not mean the same thing to everyone.
English is not my native one, English poetry in general used to sound strange to me after Pushkin et al. (could hardly get the rhymes if they are there at all). But this particular one is my "forever unread starred email to myself" (1 of 3 such emails) for 8.5 years as I've just checked. It's so strong and right and good. Happy New Year!
I read an essay years ago describing "If", "Invictus", and "Trees" (by Joyce Kilmer) as the three worst poems in the English language. I can't find the essay, so maybe I have the three poems wrong, but once you read them side by side, you definitely get a sense of the different kinds of nausea literature is capable of generating.
But the common feeling is greeting card sentiment poured forth with the stridency of a real professional.
My mom used to work at a library and so it was one of my key 8th grade hangouts. A few months after my dad passed (complications after open-heart surgery) I was there with my friend, James Daly, and he brought me a book of poetry opened to 'If.' For many years it was sort of a father figure to me, giving me a notion of what to value and what to aim for. I still cherish it, and the friend who gave it to me.
Thanks for sharing. I'm glad you found something to help you through. I'm going to read it again with that in mind. Currently having a tough time and looking for some guidance.
Strangely enough, my introduction to this brilliant poem came from Dennis Hopper’s coke fueled rendition of an excerpt in Apocalypse Now. I wonder why Coppola chose If.
It's quite a decent poem and it lends itself to being read out loud. You can fiddle with the rhythm, volume and all sorts. Basically, it is extremely malleable, which is probably not a Eng Lit term but it works for me.
Who made the world?
Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean—
the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down—
who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
I don't know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?
If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or being hated, don’t give way to hating,
And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise:
143 comments
[ 0.24 ms ] story [ 205 ms ] threadhttps://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_White_Man%27s_Burden
But yes I'm quite against the tendency to crucify dead people, which is annoyingly prevalent in some circles.
See the poem, (and play, and film adaptation - which is a moving depiction of his experience of his son being killed) my boy jack.
Although as for "product of his time" and WW1 poetry in general, remember that Wilfred Owen was writing around the same time and is very much ahead of many warmongers to this day. People are products of their circumstances, cultural and temporal.
https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/46560/dulce-et-decoru...
A friend of mine's great-whatever apparently confessed on his deathbed to having shot his commanding officer who had begun summarily executing retreating soldiers for deserting (i.e. not walking directly into a wall of machine gun fire)
That being said the former viewpoint is still being elucidated to many people so I am not overly critical of those who express it too enthusiastically.
The Mythos of Churchill must be challenged, just as the good celebrated and analysed.
Very few people seem to know of Clement Attlee these days, which is probably a tragedy considering his influence on what really matters in Britain today.
Look beyond the cover.
A very related work, if assuming the "imperialist" interpretation of The White Man's Burden, is the documentary Empire of Dust[0]. In this, a Chinese man is sent to a region in Africa to help build up various capabilities and the subsequent philosophical and practical issues that arise. I highly recommend it, but only if you (the watcher) can set aside your preexisting notions on the topics addressed.
[0]: (hopefully this works) https://vimeo.com/371805969
In fact, the connection between the poem "If" and colonialism is even more direct:
> To take one example, Rudyard Kipling’s poem ‘If…’ (1895), which acts as a guide to manhood for his son, takes inspiration from colonial administrator Leander Starr Jameson, presenting him as the ideal man.
Source: https://projects.history.qmul.ac.uk/thehistorian/2017/05/12/...
Edit: the point is, it is very unsurprising that the author of The White Man's Burden would also have written this particular poem.
Yes, and all the better for it.
But lets not pretend that it is some off-the-rails racist screed. We still do try to export our cultural values to developing nations (e.g. women's education to Afghanistan, or elimination of FGM in Africa) and are sometimes resented for it. We should be pushed to champion those kinds of causes, even if they are thankless.
Now those cultural values certainly aren't spread in a vacuum; they are usually accompanied by other less-benevolent forms of imperialism. Exploitation isn't what Kipling is calling for; he is certainly racist, but he is trying to be benevolent.
As a counterpoint, may I suggest https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Black_Man%27s_Burden as a variation on the theme.
Take up the Black Man's burden -- Send us the best ye breed!
"If" has loads of points that can be inflexed, emphasised or whatever and you can play with volume and rhythm too. Its extremely malleable.
It's a pretty decent poem.
With key and swipe and press,
And appreciate all their coding,
Though internally ‘tis a mess…
Privacy nears death
Rustle it up for all of the original verses and then set it to a faux sea shanty. Tik Tok will wet itself.
Was hal.
I just think that concept wanting your son to embrace that poem is sweet, but I have a bias.
https://www.kiplingsociety.co.uk/poem/poems_motherlodge.htm
here’s one version:
https://youtu.be/3WaksP__VT0
- Invictus, Henley
- Do not go gentle into that good night, Thomas
- Desiderata, Ehrmann
- The Man in the Arena (Citizenship in a Republic ), Roosevelt (prose, not poem)
To be honest, I don't think you need this poem to be explained to you by someone else - it is what you make of it. The language used is so simple - no word has more than two syllables. The reason you love it is because that Welsh bloke is so skillful in his turn of phrase and how he deploys words. He slaps words on a page and each word has a cadence, set of syllables and a rhythm. He knows how to bolt words together and intertwine them into a poem.
You already know what this poem means because you have already said that you have always loved it.
Perhaps you should read it to someone close to you and discuss it ...
Another excerpt of my favorite bathroom poems:
“Out of the night that covers me, Black as the pit from pole to pole, I thank whatever gods may be For my unconquerable soul. In the fell clutch of circumstance I have not winced nor cried aloud. Under the bludgeonings of chance My head is bloody, but unbowed.Beyond this place of wrath and tears Looms but the horror of the shade, And yet the menace of the years Finds and shall find me unafraid.
It matters not how strait the gate, How charged with punishments the scroll, I am the master of my fate: I am the captain of my soul.”
Poet William Ernest Henley (1849–1903)
1. On the right side of the wall: “Ranger neck exercise—look left” On the left wall: “Look right”
2. “Ain’t no use in squatting, Texas crabs can jump ten feet”
3. On the toilet cover dispenser in Mt Enterprise, TX: “Party hats”
I agree that depending on the context, it can be interpreted differently, and I also accept that poetry will not mean the same thing to everyone.
Was hal!
Anyone up to a response to "it", ie. son's response to father?
you're wrong, I hate working
you're wrong, I hate taking responsibility
you're wrong, I hate caring about others
you're wrong, nothing that happens to me is in my control
you're wrong, the world is too big for me to influence
you're wrong, i am too important to be ignored
you're wrong, other people are assholes
you're wrong, I could have done better
Yes, we are probably wrong most of the time but we still care for you.
https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/48419/this-be-the-ver...
But the common feeling is greeting card sentiment poured forth with the stridency of a real professional.
Regardless - I have confidence you will surmount and grow from the challenges you are facing.
It's quite a decent poem and it lends itself to being read out loud. You can fiddle with the rhythm, volume and all sorts. Basically, it is extremely malleable, which is probably not a Eng Lit term but it works for me.
It also has quite a formidable message.
Who made the world? Who made the swan, and the black bear? Who made the grasshopper? This grasshopper, I mean— the one who has flung herself out of the grass, the one who is eating sugar out of my hand, who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down— who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes. Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face. Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away. I don't know exactly what a prayer is. I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass, how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields, which is what I have been doing all day. Tell me, what else should I have done? Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon? Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?