Intro & Preface & Contents
Previous: Winter XVII. History
... I wonder whether there are many men who have the same feeling with regard to “science” as I have? It is something more than a prejudice; often it takes the form of a dread, almost a terror. Even those branches of science which are concerned with things that interest me -- which deal with plants and animals and the heaven of stars -- even these I cannot contemplate without uneasiness, a spiritual disaffection; new discoveries, new theories, however they engage my intelligence, soon weary me, and in some way depress. When it comes to other kinds of science -- the sciences blatant and ubiquitous -- the science by which men become millionaires -- I am possessed with an angry hostility, a resentful apprehension. This was born in me, no doubt; I cannot trace it to circumstances of my life, or to any particular moment of my mental growth. My boyish delight in Carlyle [in particular] doubtless nourished the temper, but did not Carlyle so delight me because of what was already in my mind? I remember, as a lad, looking at complicated machinery with a shrinking uneasiness which, of course, I did not understand... I hate and fear “science” because of my conviction that, for long to come if not forever, it will be the remorseless enemy of mankind. I see it destroying all simplicity and gentleness of life, all the beauty of the world; I see it restoring barbarism under a mask of civilization; I see it darkening men’s minds and hardening their hearts; I see it bringing a time of vast conflicts, which pale into insignificance “the thousand wars of old,” and, as likely as not, will whelm all the laborious advances of mankind in blood-drenched chaos. [Bold here mostly for emphasis, though "whelm" is certainly dated usage.]
...The roaring “Jubilee” [Victoria’s Diamond Jubilee in 1897?] of last summer was for me an occasion of sadness; it meant that so much was over and gone -- so much of good and noble, the like of which the world will not see again, and that a new time of which only the perils are clearly visible, is rushing upon us. Oh, the generous hopes and aspirations of forty years ago! Science, then, was seen as the deliverer; only a few could prophesy its tyranny, could foresee that it revive old evils and trample on the promises of its beginning. This is the course of things; we must accept it. But it is some comfort to me that I -- poor little mortal -- have had no part in bringing the tyrant to his throne.
Alpha.
A topic of particular interest to me just now, but a point on which I diverge from Ryecroft in inclination. I’ve always been fascinated by machinery and science. I’ve always enjoyed technology while slowly coming to appreciate that its consequences are often as dire as is here suggested. And he did nail the tyranny of 20th century technology.
This topic is interesting to me because of my current study of The Magic Mountain, which has lead me to Nietzsche’s The Birth of Tragedy and Goethe’s Faust. Nietzsche argues (as you may recall) that our world of scientific tyranny is the consequence of Socrates and of his rejection of the traditional Greek way of seeing the world. Socrates first established that nature was an objective thing, subject to scientific study, resulting in our alienation from the rest of creation.
Goethe is also concerned with our existential status in the world, but he is even more focused on how Faustian striving to change the world through the use of magic/science always has unanticipated consequences. By trying to make the world “better” we always end by making it also worse. The Age of Coal and Steam gave us faster communication but also smog and an industrial proletariat. The Age of Petroleum has given us personal transport, air travel, and plastics, but also smog, oil spills, suburban sprawl, polluted oceans, and (combined with coal) Global Warming. The Age of Atoms has given us “clean” energy and a degree of international peace, but with the threat of atomic bombs and perpetual radiation pollution.
We continue to look for scientific solutions to our (mostly) science generated problems. It isn’t an accident that the worst of the Islamic fundamentalist groups currently terrorizing much of the world, calls itself Boko Haram which is “usually translated as ‘Western education is a sin’”. I do wonder what Ryecroft or Gissing would make of them. Would he focus on all the parts of Western education that he approves of, or acknowledge that the entire edifice is built upon the foundation of a Socratic-scientific view of reality with which he is not actually in sympathy. In The Magic Mountain these two alternatives are voiced by the characters Settembrini, the Italian humanist, and Naphtha, the Jewish-Jesuit extremist. It is unclear to me, after multiple readings -- and reading about the author -- on which side he really comes down. He seems to deny Naphtha, but I don’t find his denial convincing.
Also, It’s amusing to find the close of the 19th century described as a time of Scientific disillusionment, as apposed to the halcyon days of the mid-century. Was there a 50 year span, after 1750, that would not have been described the same way by a person young at the beginning and old at the end? It’s nice to know that, from the point of view of 2064, we are living today in a Golden Age.
Next: Winter XIX. Christmas.
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