The world is so full of a number of things
I'm sure we should all be as happy as kings.
Robert Louis Stevenson
The greatest mass divestiture of material goods in history has begun, as the vast rich postwar generation tries, without success, to
pass its vast riches on to its daughters and sons. For a variety of reasons the
children of Boomers – called Millennials or Gen X or Gen Y or the Baby Boom
echo or whatever – those born roughly between 1980 and 2000 – will not and cannot
inherit their parents’ heritage or accept their inheritance. They reject our exotic
dust-magnet tchotchkes, they have no use for our closets full of clothing groaning on
the rack or our cupboards bulging with dishes and glasses and gadgets and
gizmos, they won’t take our credenzas or escritoires or étagères or vanities or
china cabinets or recliners or wedding silver or pianos, they don’t want our
impressive lifelong collections or craft supplies or artwork or souvenirs or even
family photos and home movies.
I will not come today.
“Cannot” is false, and that I dare not, falser.
I will not come today.
from Julius Caesar
from Julius Caesar
The “will not” part has to do with the aesthetic of Less.
The electronic reduction of films, music, photography and print to computer
files, out of sight/out of mind, has played a huge role in the divestiture.
Instead of lovingly preserving sensuous material objects, Boomers’ kids even
tolerate the periodic loss of all their personal data in computer crashes. They
seem to be less attached to “the things of this world” than
we their parents could ever bring ourselves to be. Of course there is a positive
aspect to this attitude. Possessions can tie one down and hold one back. Riches can be defined in many ways, both material and spiritual. It appears the postwar generation overbought. ...
The “cannot” part has to do with the high cost of living
which limits the housing size, storage space, cash flow and savings of this
younger generation. The Boomers did very well for themselves even working
parttime; now two fulltime earners are required to live the good life. And if you live in any American city, you don't want a car, not even a free one.
… The things I brought with me from far away,
compared with theirs, look strangely not the same:
in their great country they were living things,
but here they hold their breath, as if for shame.
from “The Solitary,” Rainer Maria Rilkecompared with theirs, look strangely not the same:
in their great country they were living things,
but here they hold their breath, as if for shame.
Possessing no current intentions of having their own progeny,
the Boomers’ kids also turn their noses up at all the boxes of adorable infant
and child toys and onesies and bibs and impossibly tiny t-shirts that read
“Mama’s Angel Baby” and the darling children’s books with their gentle truths
and beautiful illustrations. Indeed one of the saddest desertions, one of the
most shocking betrayals, is the rejection of the Book itself.
Boomers have already bravely faced up to the bitter downfall of their beloved LPs – record albums – vinyl … But books?
Who doesn’t want books? Everybody, it turns out. You can’t give the things
away; in fact you must pay to have them removed from your premises and dumped
into (ironically) unmarked graves.
Boomers’ kids do read, of course, but prefer Kindle-type
interfaces. At least they do now: there is growing evidence that, like vinyl, material
books are starting to make a comeback. There’s nothing like the feel of a
vintage volume in the hand, the antique fragrance, the impression of the engraver’s plate on the bond paper …
Such a typical Boomer utterance, that. We sure did love our
“stuff.” We still do. It makes us feel secure, successful, complicated. The
immense material edifice we have constructed will never be reconstructed. Its
loss will impoverish future society and wipe out a great deal of social memory.
Of more serious concern is the potential for
the Internet alteration, “scrubbing” or "disappearing" of knowledge and history. How can biographies be recollected with no letters or pictures or tangible objects to refer to?
The twilight years of these Things will pass silently, locked inside the thousands of square miles of storage units crowding the land. But much more will be carted off en masse to China or snapped up by immigrants at yard sales. Never to return.
The twilight years of these Things will pass silently, locked inside the thousands of square miles of storage units crowding the land. But much more will be carted off en masse to China or snapped up by immigrants at yard sales. Never to return.
Love Calls Us to the Things of This World
Richard Wilbur
Richard Wilbur
The eyes open to a cry of pulleys,
And spirited from sleep, the
astounded soul
Hangs for a moment bodiless and
simple
As false dawn.
Outside
the open window
The morning air is all awash with
angels.
Some are in
bed-sheets, some are in blouses,
Some are in smocks: but truly there
they are.
Now they are rising together in calm
swells
Of halcyon feeling, filling whatever
they wear
With the deep joy of their
impersonal breathing;
Now they are
flying in place, conveying
The terrible speed of their
omnipresence, moving
And staying like white water; and
now of a sudden
They swoon down into so rapt a quiet
That nobody seems to be there.
The
soul shrinks
From all that it
is about to remember,
From the punctual rape of every
blessèd day,
And cries,
“Oh,
let there be nothing on earth but laundry,
Nothing but rosy hands in the rising
steam
And clear dances done in the sight
of heaven.”
Yet, as the sun
acknowledges
With a warm look the world’s hunks
and colors,
The soul descends once more in
bitter love
To accept the waking body, saying
now
In a changed voice as the man yawns
and rises,
“Bring them down
from their ruddy gallows;
Let there be clean linen for the
backs of thieves;
Let lovers go fresh and sweet to be
undone,
And the heaviest nuns walk in a pure
floating
Of dark habits,
keeping their difficult balance."
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