I've written before about my affinity for Edward Hopper. I really love his work - it's real and expressive, emotional and emotionless (what a contrast!), powerful, simple, and moving. I read this article this morning:
http://www.bbc.com/culture/story/20160301-the-dark-side-of-the-city
It's a lovely exploration of a few of Hopper's major works, capping it off with "Nighthawks", which is something that I'm sure you're familiar with. Give the article a look - it's worth a read.
What impresses me about this, though, is how the world was in transition at that time, much as it is in transition now. (Is there ever a time when the world isn't in some kind of transition? Interesting thought.) People were moving in from the country, into the cities, looking for work or opportunity or culture or education or something... that something often being elusive... But in all this movement, and in the establishment of folks into urban centers, they were feeling cut off from their social networks, from the lifestyle that they had known in the country, and from the teeming humanity around them.
Natsume Soseki wrote a book about this phenomenon in Japan in the early 1900s. The book is called "Kokoro", meaning the heart or the center, and has both a literal and figurative/spiritual meaning. In the book, a young man heads to the city in search of education and other opportunity, and finds himself alone, shiftless and without anchor, adrift in a sea of strangers. It is interesting to consider how disconnected he became from the world around him... He seeks for balance, a tether, in an older friend called "Sensei", but is ultimately unable to find it because he cannot relate to the older man and his life. Further, the older man pushes the younger man away, finding this inability to relate an insurmountable separation between the two. Here are a couple of quotes:
“You see, loneliness is the price we have to pay for being born in this modern age, so full of freedom, independence, and our own egoistical selves.” ― Natsume Sōseki, Kokoro
“I am a lonely man," he said again that evening. "And is it not possible that you are also a lonely person? But I am an older man, and I can live with my loneliness, quietly. You are young, and it must be difficult to accept your loneliness. You must sometimes want to fight it." "But I am not at all lonely." "Youth is the loneliest time of all. Otherwise, why should you come so often to my house?" Sensei continued: "But surely, when you are with me, you cannot rid yourself of your loneliness. I have not it in me to help you forget it. You will have to look elsewhere for the consolation you seek. And soon, you will find that you no longer want to visit me." As he said this, Sensei smiled sadly.” ― Natsume Sōseki, Kokoro
As we look to our own day, and perhaps to our own future, we may find ourselves relating to Sensei and his thought. In fact, Sensei ultimately represents the world gone by, and we may soon "find that (we) no longer want to visit (him)." Concerns related to social media and how we interact with one another virtually (what a preponderance of meaning is contained in that word!) are becoming ever more significant... Even at our family gatherings, we are often more involved with tiny screens than we are with the faces of our loved ones... And yet, I wonder if we're not nostalgic for a time that maybe hasn't even existed except in our own minds for generations... You see, when the radio was introduced on a large scale in the 20s and 30s, people would gather around the radio and listen - but they would still look into one another's faces. When the television came along, it took the place of having to look at one another and instead the focus was on the tube. Now we carry these little screens around in our pockets - to the movie (!), to the bathroom (!), and even more weirdly - to social gatherings... And we're all plugged into these things...
I don't know. I like my phone and tablet. I like being able to read when and where I like. And I like the convenience of not having a paper book (especially at night when I'm reading). And yet... And yet... It's going to be an interesting next couple of decades.
http://www.bbc.com/culture/story/20160301-the-dark-side-of-the-city
It's a lovely exploration of a few of Hopper's major works, capping it off with "Nighthawks", which is something that I'm sure you're familiar with. Give the article a look - it's worth a read.
What impresses me about this, though, is how the world was in transition at that time, much as it is in transition now. (Is there ever a time when the world isn't in some kind of transition? Interesting thought.) People were moving in from the country, into the cities, looking for work or opportunity or culture or education or something... that something often being elusive... But in all this movement, and in the establishment of folks into urban centers, they were feeling cut off from their social networks, from the lifestyle that they had known in the country, and from the teeming humanity around them.
Natsume Soseki wrote a book about this phenomenon in Japan in the early 1900s. The book is called "Kokoro", meaning the heart or the center, and has both a literal and figurative/spiritual meaning. In the book, a young man heads to the city in search of education and other opportunity, and finds himself alone, shiftless and without anchor, adrift in a sea of strangers. It is interesting to consider how disconnected he became from the world around him... He seeks for balance, a tether, in an older friend called "Sensei", but is ultimately unable to find it because he cannot relate to the older man and his life. Further, the older man pushes the younger man away, finding this inability to relate an insurmountable separation between the two. Here are a couple of quotes:
“You see, loneliness is the price we have to pay for being born in this modern age, so full of freedom, independence, and our own egoistical selves.” ― Natsume Sōseki, Kokoro
“I am a lonely man," he said again that evening. "And is it not possible that you are also a lonely person? But I am an older man, and I can live with my loneliness, quietly. You are young, and it must be difficult to accept your loneliness. You must sometimes want to fight it." "But I am not at all lonely." "Youth is the loneliest time of all. Otherwise, why should you come so often to my house?" Sensei continued: "But surely, when you are with me, you cannot rid yourself of your loneliness. I have not it in me to help you forget it. You will have to look elsewhere for the consolation you seek. And soon, you will find that you no longer want to visit me." As he said this, Sensei smiled sadly.” ― Natsume Sōseki, Kokoro
As we look to our own day, and perhaps to our own future, we may find ourselves relating to Sensei and his thought. In fact, Sensei ultimately represents the world gone by, and we may soon "find that (we) no longer want to visit (him)." Concerns related to social media and how we interact with one another virtually (what a preponderance of meaning is contained in that word!) are becoming ever more significant... Even at our family gatherings, we are often more involved with tiny screens than we are with the faces of our loved ones... And yet, I wonder if we're not nostalgic for a time that maybe hasn't even existed except in our own minds for generations... You see, when the radio was introduced on a large scale in the 20s and 30s, people would gather around the radio and listen - but they would still look into one another's faces. When the television came along, it took the place of having to look at one another and instead the focus was on the tube. Now we carry these little screens around in our pockets - to the movie (!), to the bathroom (!), and even more weirdly - to social gatherings... And we're all plugged into these things...
I don't know. I like my phone and tablet. I like being able to read when and where I like. And I like the convenience of not having a paper book (especially at night when I'm reading). And yet... And yet... It's going to be an interesting next couple of decades.
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