Hope and redemption
Rod, I can't shake off your entry yesterday on hope, in particular your comment on Thomas Howard's apologia on Christian faith--that there is "transcendent meaning in human affairs" and that there is "no such thing as meaningless sacrifice."
You seem more or less to discount Howard's contention by speaking of Paul's words that "Chance hovers," which indicate not only that soldiers like Paul are not in control of events (a few inches to one side or the other of where a bomb lands make the difference between life and death) but that there is no controlling presence in war, only the random-ness of events.
It would be ludicrous to suggest that the war as a whole--any war--is or can be redeemed, that is, made worthy or worthwhile. But what about the issue or consequences of the small, individual actions of the men in battle? Are we to conclude, with Hemingway, that gestures of compassion, sacrifice, courage, and so forth between the soldiers are rendered meaningless and make no difference in the world?
Early in our conversation Chuck suggested a difference between micro and macro views of the war, which I find a useful distinction in this context. The ignorant leaders who cause and promote the war have great power but no insight into the truth of war's effects. In ch. 7, Paul listens patiently when he's home on leave to a former teacher say that soldiers at the Front "are not able to judge" things that relate "to the whole." Paul doesn't have the omniscient perspective of the commanders who send men into battle; of course they don't have the intensely personal understanding of the suffering that they cause.
Are we to say that the commanders not only dictate the macro view, "the whole," but also determine whether that which they dictate will have any meaning on the micro level of individual human actions. Nicole remarked yesterday that one can't "un-experience" a catastrophic event. That's true, but does one have any choice in how that experience will integrate itself into one's future? Is it necessarily destructive, or is there some sense in which it can be redeemed? It seems to me that if we conclude that the strategists of war dictate all, that their decisions invalidate the positive actions and gestures of everyone involved in their decisions, that is the ultimate concession to nihilism.
In ch. 8, Paul sees the suffering Russian prisoners and concludes that just as a "word of command has made these silent figures our enemies, a word of command might transform them into our friends." Such thoughts frighten him, for "this way lies the abyss." But he continues, "I will not lose these thoughts. I will keep them, shut them away until the war is over. My heart beats fast: this is the aim, the great, the sole aim, that I have thought of in the trenches; that I have looked for as the only possibility of existence after this annihilation of all human feeling; this is a task that will make life afterward worthy of these hideous years" (194).
I don't want to romanticize or sentimentalize; maybe that's what I'm doing. I feel instead like I'm grieving at the implications of this novel that human beings with power can render life meaningless for those who don't possess it. War is absurd, but is our necessary conclusion that the entire essence of war is only about such things as trade routes, oil fields, and the like, and that we shouldn't--maybe have no right to--use the term "redemptive" to evaluate any action or gesture in such a circumstance?
Comments
Thanks for this, Larry. We're getting to the heart of things. Let me clarify, though: I am a believing Christian, so for me, there is no such thing as the absence of meaning. Like you (I think), I believe that war is a time of testing, perhaps the most intense in all of human experience, in which a man's character is refined, or destroyed. The choices all men make in those situations have eternal meaning, though the meaning might not be fully discernible this side of the grave.
What I was trying to get into was the headspace of someone whose hope was broken by the war. "Hope" in the sense I mentioned: of a fundamental stance toward reality, the conviction that come what may, there is transcendent meaning behind it all. As we know, the war, and its resumption in 1939, broke Europe's soul. Existentialism was an attempt to find meaning in a life in which it was no longer possible to believe in God. It too failed. I am deeply concerned about Europe's future, as anyone would worry about their father, and "All Quiet" is helping me to understand why the Great War was likely the final straw that brought the whole civilizational edifice tumbling down (this, on top of the French Revolution, Marx, Darwin, Nietzsche...).
The First World War, it seems to me, marked not only when Europe quit believing in God. It also marked when Europe quit believing in man.
Posted by: Rod Dreher | June 26, 2007 11:11 AM
If we get in the headspace of the forces Rod mentions, the French Revolution, Marx, Darwin, Nietzsche, a pattern emerges that returns us to other possible syllogisms. Let's add Descartes to the mix as well. What is common in this list of European movements and thinkers is a foundation belief that there are no cause sui (self-caused causes). By deductive methodology, we can account for results by properties found in their causes--causes based on other knowable causes. Here independence is found through methods of scientific discovery and by extension, the implications this had for political and social life. An example might be, "I am poor not because God made me this way or this is his destiny for me but because I am a low-wage earner working the land of a wealthy person."
One step in Descartes methodology that has had lasting effect is the act of rejecting anything that is not self-evidently true. So strong is this sentiment, it is included in our Declaration of Independence.
Posted by: laray polk | June 26, 2007 02:14 PM
One of the remarkable things about this book is that despite the horrific bloodbath of war, Paul still retains his humanity and his desire to live. He has experienced the brutality of the front and it has numbed him, but he still treats others kindly--his mother, his father, his comrades, even the Russian prisoners who are his enemies. Paul may have lost belief in the conventional god of his upbringing, but he has not lost empathy for his fellow human beings. What else is this but hope?
Posted by: Ruth Ann Alsobrook | June 26, 2007 02:57 PM
Painful things to contemplate, Rod. Like you, I'm Christian and over the years have had my faith invigorated and expanded by the classic art and artifacts coming out of Europe, from Augustine to Shakespeare and beyond. Thus it both saddens and scares me to agree with your conclusion that Europe's soul is broken, and I guess I would say that the breaking happened over a long period of time, from the rise of science with which we usually associate the Enlightenment to WWI. Remarque's novel is driving the point home.
I was just reading Theodore Dalrymple’s review of a book by Walter Laqueur, The Last Days of Europe: Epitaph for an Old Continent. Dalrymple says that Laqueur sees Europe, “once the home of a dynamic civilization that energized the rest of the world, declining into a kind of genteel theme park—if it’s lucky. The future might be grimmer than this, of course: there might be a real struggle for power once the immigrants and their descendents become numerically strong enough to take on the increasingly geriatric native population.”
Still, though, I feel that gestures such as Paul's and his comrades' are worthy and worthwhile, even thought they seem futile by historical measures; they increase good in the world.
Posted by: Larry Allums | June 26, 2007 02:58 PM
Several thoughts: (a) Not to take us further down the rabbit hole, but I hear in "once the home of a dynamic civilization that energized the rest of the world, declining into a kind of genteel theme park . . . the increasingly geriatric native population" what could easily become a requiem for the United States, broken by consumerism, drowned in a mindless popular culture, estranged from the concept of sacrifice for the common good (whether one's country or platoon) that drove those who fought in WWI, unable to assimilate immigrants into a common culture, and cut off from a sense of connection, of rootedness, that Rod described about his father. But enough gloom and doom; back on topic. (b)I agree with your comment, Larry, that one lesson of the book is that "human beings with power can render life meaningless for those who don't possess it." That seems to be a recurring lessen of history. Can it be said that life comes down to a struggle for power? And if your life can be made meaningless unless you have power, is that struggle not entirely justified? One can see the triumph of American democracy in terms of laying out ground rules for the struggle that avoid the necessity of violence to attain it. (c) I think there clearly is meaningless sacrifice in war: for example, the thousands who died on July 1, 1916, because men like Field Marshal Sir Douglas Haig, who believed the machine gun a vastly overrated weapon, made decisions with little or no idea of their consequences. And the actions of the men in accord with those decisions accomplished little that would resolve a war that I can only describe as meaningless. What meaning in that? I recall the comment of a British general--Plumer?--when he finally, after months of fighting, saw what the Passchendaele battlefield--where men literally drowned in mud--looked like: could we, he asked with naive incredulousness, really have sent men to attack over that? (d) In their own way, the men who made the decisions that caused thousands to die had no more of a macro view than their victims. It is only now, with the benefit of hindsight that accurate perspective emerges. That's a truism about history in general that should give us pause: it may prove that the pessimistic view I stated above is as completely wrong as the British General Staff's faith in frontal attacks on entrenched machine guns. (e) Regarding Rod's comment, I can only agree that men's choices have eternal meaning in the sense that they can never be undone and a spiral of consequences flows from each of those choices for all time.
Posted by: Chuck Snakard | June 28, 2007 02:37 PM