In case you haven't noticed, I'm a big fan of two American authors, in particular, Mark Twain and H.L. Mencken. Perhaps better than any other American authors, Twain and Mencken capture the quintessential essence of what it means to be average folk in America and the world, for their time and for all time.
Twain and Mencken are two very similar characters and thinkers from overlapping but different eras. Twain believes in people, despite their flaws. He is more liberal, in the theological sense that I associate with being liberal. Meaning, he believes that, despite all their pettiness and cowardice and ignorance, that people are essentially decent, or at least sympathetic. Mencken is a bit more pessimistic. He is more conservative, in the theological sense that I associate with being conservative. Meaning, he believes that average people, though comic and compelling, are generally shitty. Some people may rise above the shittiness. But most people are kind of foolish and conspiring against their betters. Both seem to appreciate humanity, well enough, though Mencken appreciates them like one might appreciate a dog that keeps sparring with and getting sprayed by neighborhood skunks. Amusing, if stupid.
What I love about both Twain and Mencken is that despite both of their appreciation for the underside of human nature, both have a confidence in peoples' capacity to get things right much better on their own than when lorded over by their neighbor, and, in the case of Mencken, at least the most intelligent and talented will have a shot at it even if the great majority of folks fumble kind of stupidly through life.
Mencken is amused by the pride and foolishness of average people. Twain loves them despite their bumbling and makes a place for them in his heart.
And that is probably why Twain is better known than Mencken, and why people love him better. Because Twain loved them first.
I will not and cannot associate myself with any political party or ideology, primarily, anymore. I appreciate Twain and Mencken largely because they share the quality that I am most proud of in myself: their independence. Twain and Mencken were free-thinkers and equal opportunity lampooners of a world perpetually mad with its baser instincts being called something better than they are. And both embraced such instincts as a part of a more noble calling of loving ourselves despite our worst tendencies rather than pretending that they don't inform our relationship with the world around us.
I have been perpetually angry and frustrated with our stupid and foolish instincts creating all sorts of unnecessary tragedy in the world (the source of Mencken's frustration and disgust, as well). But I realize, today, why I am much more like my original hero, Mark Twain, than my more recent hero, H.L. Mencken.
What has driven this ugly, foolish, and all-too-tragic repressive turn for humanity here at the beginning of the 21st century - the dawn of a new century that follows an old century that was most characterized by an effort to rid the world of governments and forces hostile to liberal democratic values and trying, still, at this late date in civilization's history, to impose ideologies and govern out of a philosophy centered around force and power as ends in themselves - is fear.
It is what has always driven repression. It is what will always drive repression, as it perpetually rears its ugly head and as we perpetually cheer it on. That is not a nihilistic, cynical, or defeatist interpretation of the world. We do make progress, in this regard. This is the central measure for our progress, in fact, in terms of our values and ideas as much as the outcomes they produce. But we also experience regress. Repressive directions in our policies and cultural attitudes are the central feature of regression, a fact that is quite obvious when we read about repressive activities in our history, where the actors and the actions are long past, but which we perpetually lose track amidst the zeitgeist.
And the most serious drive for our repression and our cheering it on is always our fear.
Mencken would describe it as our basest, most hateful, most feebleminded tendencies and citizens forever impinging on the freedoms of their betters. And there is much truth to that, sadly. And I must say that this is how I have felt for much of this period, as I have been trampled on too many times in the name of various pressures, fears, and aggression for the sake of whichever cause tickles a fancy and that has gone untamed during this period.
I can now see why Bobby Kennedy, a politician like any other, would go so deep when responding to the repressive and violent trends and directions in his own time when government repression sparked citizen retaliation and massive and inexplicable violence. Violence that would take the lives of his brother, Jack Kennedy and Mississippi civil rights leader, Medgar Evers in the same year; a lesser political figure, but no less a tragedy, Malcolm X; Dr. Martin Luther King, whose death Bobby Kennedy was responding to in his famous impromptu eulogy and his Mindless Menace of Violence speech the day following, two of the most beautiful, sincere, and thoughtful speeches I have ever heard a politician give in all of the time that I have studied politics; and then Bobby, himself, to complete the incomprehensible nature of the tragedy of the violence in that period.
And yet, once the tragedies have past, and reflection and thought replace the pain and the fear that is its source - as Bobby paraphrases Aeschylus, "Even in our sleep, pain which cannot forget falls drop by drop upon the heart, until in our own great despair, against our will, comes wisdom, by the awful grace of God." - it becomes clearer to me that the aggression and tragedy and fear, and the aggression and tragedy and fear, and the aggression and tragedy and fear that it provokes are not just the ugliness of human nature in the face of aggression, tragedy, and fear coming forth.
In the final analysis, people are also just afraid. They can be bad. But they are not so, as a general rule They can be quite foolish. But they can and will respond to leadership and a human touch that appreciates them despite their foibles even as it, humbly and with much humor, expects better of them.
And that is what Mark Twain offered the country in his own time. It was a time of war. It was a time of much violence and harsh treatment, particularly of slaves and African Americans, whom Twain identified with solidly, even as he identified, as well, with the more foolish and base racism that characterized his youth and far too many of the white Americans that Twain gently, compassionately, and with a profound wit eased Americans past.
Mencken was at times contemptuous, but more amused, and, most valuable to those who were wise enough to listen, honest, about the foolish and ugly directions that human nature can turn. He was a man bitterly saddened by the tragedies of man's perpetual and ill-conceived brutalities against his fellow man. And someone who had to laugh at such futile stupidity to maintain a bit of sanity.
Mark Twain saw the same tragedies. But more than Mencken, he loved humanity despite itself. He was more comfortable with those who lacked his wit and intelligence and insightfulness about humanity than Mencken, because he genuinely liked them, despite all their foibles and the unnecessary hardships they suffer upon one another.
It is clearer to me that though so much brutality, violence, repression, ugliness and fear have characterized this tragic opening to the 21st century, that all of it, in the final analysis, is also just people being afraid. Fear produces inexplicable tragedy, too often. But it is also, in the end, a forgivable fact of life for human beings with limitations that cannot simply be wished away to satisfy our sense of anger and tragedy.
I have said, often, during this period, that I understand better, now, how the Nazis were able to manipulate the German people. But also why the Germans were responsible for the deaths of Jews much more than I learned as a younger student, given the courage and sacrafice of their countrymen and others who took enormous risks to save Jews and not merely cave to the popular cowardice that had both animated and made difficult to escape the Nazi rise to power.
But, I understand better, today, why the Allies and historians chose forgiveness in the face of that fact of the war, the Holocaust, and human nature, rather than collective recrimination. It is not only the political reality of the impossibility of holding millions of Germans responsible for the deaths of Jews or Nazi aggression or atrocities, though average Germans clearly played important roles in all of these tragedies.
What makes such cowardice and ugliness worthy of our forgiveness is that it is also all too human.
Most people, given limited capacities at any particular personal and historical moment, often behave irrationally and aggressively in the face of fear and and aggression and pain and tragedy. Me too. I just try to get better at it, over time. Like anyone else.
Those who pursue power and the tools of repression to perpetually rationalize and give artificial weight to their fears impose one of the biggest lies on humanity that it has ever witnessed: that they protect humanity from the same reactions to their repressive efforts that their repression, generally, creates or accelerates. I watch it as a regular feature of this period, in awe of its unfailing certainty in its own capacity to stamp out problems that neither it nor its predecessors have ever been able to stamp out by force - ever, in the history of humanity - and a failure to recognize the limits of what can be achieved with force in the face of even the most serious and tragic problems, like terrorism and despotism and genocide and all of the worst crimes against humanity that we have ever faced, even as force is sometimes needed in as limited a capacity as possible, especially when people face violent or oppressive ends.
What I love about Twain, that I only get a glimpse of in Mencken, is that he loves humanity, genuinely, despite its stupidity and the calamities we impose on one another in the name of whichever self-righteous or panic-inspired cause that it has taken up.
Twain sees the pettiness, narrowness, ignorance, and foolish fears of his fellow man and decides that he can't do any worse, he supposes, though he's sure that, perhaps, they could do a fair bit better for themselves and toward one another.
And in the last consideration, Twain is right, I think, that it is probably best to see humanity for all of its foolish and destructive fears and aggression and pain and tragedy and just love it and forgive it anyway, warts and all.
Fear drives the worst forms of ugliness in humanity that the world has ever seen. It kills, it maims, it imprisons, it oppresses. It robs people of their lives and freedom and dignity.
But, in the end, it is also just people being afraid. People laying in their beds, at night, perhaps with a spouse or a lover or just holding tight to their pillow, and hoping that tomorrow offers more hope and peace than today. People advocating and cheering and rallying for the very policies and attitudes that are sure to make them less safe and make the realities of their lives such that they give themselves more reason for fear.
But, in the end, they are also just afraid. Scared little bitches, as I've said in my younger years. Easily and foolishly frightened and pained souls.
And I love them, anyway. Even with their cruelties. And ugliness. And fears. And the unspeakable tragedies that they impose on one another. I love them, anyway. Because they need it. Because sometimes, as my experience at Eisenhower Middle School taught me, grace is not something we receive or give because we or others have earned it, but because all of us need it. Those who are least likely or willing to give it most of all.
And, in the final analysis, those who need forgiveness and love are all of us. We have seen the enemy, and he is us. But we are also family and friends and loved ones who can summon the heart and imagination and thought to transcend this time of fear and so much unnecessary tragedy. And find love and reason and safety where timidity or terror has occupied our hearts.
I've said many times that what I am most grateful for in this period of my life, personally, is that I took seriously the idea of giving up a life run by fear and to take up the freedom and independence that offers a happier, more purposeful, fulfilled, thoughtful, and decent life. It hasn't been easy, that is for sure.
But it has been worth it.
And that is what Twain and Mencken both offer us. Examples of courage and confidence in our abilities to transcend our fearful and foolish lives. Twain with much love and appreciation and good humor for our cowardice. Mencken with much contempt for the pride and foolishness and pettiness and ugliness of the same. Both did it with very little education relative to their comparably brilliant contemporaries. Twain only attended school until the age of 12 and received the bulk of his education in the newspaper trade. Mencken finished high school at the top of his class and never turned back.
And both of their examples give lie to the idea that our circumstances or our experiences or our levels of education or whatever invented insecurities we might have for not throwing off the bowlines and exploring this world, as Twain might say, are more real than they are.
In fact, it is that quotation received at a particularly inspired time in my life that is probably most responsible for my more adventurous turn in life.
The words are too remarkably well chosen not to share for those who are unfamiliar. And for those who are, it is well worth the second look.
As Twain opined:
"Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn’t do than by the ones you did do.
So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbour. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover."
Where Mencken doubted humanity's capacity to transcend its collective and quite independent ignorance and cruelty, Twain knew that the surest path to a human race that stood a bit taller was one who felt more confident of its own abilities to take the risks that courage is molded from.
And that is why I am more Twain than Mencken, even as I admire each man's insight and aspire for their uncanny ability to choose words and images to share their wisdom.
Because hope cannot triumph over fear by random luck. Sometimes it needs a little direction and confidence to inspire the long and arduous trek.
As Brandi would say, sleep well, little ones.
Tomorrow is a better day. If only we can find the courage to make it so.
Love,
Ben