Journal 11
Amanda Dulcinea Cuéllar
Like the poetry of Matthew Arnold, the bucolic poems by Theocritus and Moschus are “imbued with a kind of majestic sadness” (Kunitz 457). Like so many in our class, these writers long for a place which they have not known and may not even exist. An idyll, by definition, describes “an incident of country life in terms of idealized innocence and contentment” (Oxford Dictionary, 459). Thus, the classical writers describe a lifestyle which exists only in their minds. It is a place this “sophisticated urban circle” (Oxford Dictionary 807) longs for but does not know. The sadness prevalent in the writings of Theocritus and Moschus superficially originates from the passing of a shepherd whose death marks the loss of beautiful music as well. Yet a deeper origin of this nostalgia may be the longing of man for a peace which, due to his consciousness, he cannot attain. Ram Dass also addresses this inability to attain peace in his writing entitled “The Witness.” As conscious beings we are forever preoccupied with our own longings and problems and consequently the beauty of the moment escapes us. Constantly our minds are cluttered with selfish thoughts, and as a result our mind cannot rest. We cannot clear our minds to attain inner peace and experience nature whole-heartedly.
E.M. Forester describes this goal-oriented state of mind in “The Other Side of the Hedge.” Like the man from the road, we have been “seized with the desire to walk” (Forester 451). Despite my efforts to stand outside myself and observe the world impartially, I cannot turn off my thoughts. I cannot escape “the torrent of reactions” (Dass 74) that clouds my consciousness in order to enjoy the moment. This is the state of mind that Theocritus idealizes. His writing reflects the belief that the simple inhabitants of the countryside do not have his worries and can thus commune with nature. These simple goatherds enjoy the “whispering sound of yonder pine tree… that mumereth by the wells of water” (Theocritus 809), and have the time to sing of Diaphnis’ constant love.
In the writings of Moschus, nature too laments the death of Bion and his song. Nature, in the “Lament for Bion,” is a calm, pitying being, nothing like the raging force all man has at some time experienced. Moschus seems to long for a place where man and nature are in harmony and where humans need not struggle against the forces of nature to survive. Likewise, Matthew Arnold writes of a “helpless cradle” removed from “the hard world, which roars hard by” (
Throughout this semester I have continually asked myself what I can do to attain this peace and communion with nature whose fringes we have examined and circled continually but cannot seem to enter. How can I escape the road I travel and cross the hedge? Is the answer to leave college, leave the world of man to live in a lost forest somewhere? Although this may seem to be the logical course of action, I am held here by a curiosity to see where my path may lead. I see a certain beauty in this hectic life of man and in the dusty beaten path I walk. Like John the savage from Brave New World, I prefer to feel the pain and joy of a conscious life than to live in unfeeling complacency. Thus, this nostalgia prevalent in the idylls of the classical writers, E.M. Forester, and Matthew Arnold I see not as a scorn of our current lifestyle nor as an honest desire to be elsewhere; it is instead the expression of the beauty of man: his emotions. This is not to say that we should not seek a communion with nature, nor look outside ourselves, nor end our quest for peace. Instead we should accept that we are conscious beings, and that we cannot shed our emotions or worries. I choose to celebrate that which is unique to man and his most beautiful attribute: his feelings.