Not Wanting the Stars

An author’s intention is not necessarily what matters to readers of poetry or prose.

I have read that W. H. Auden wrote Funeral Blues as a parody of the mourning of the death of a politician, and yet readers of the poem have mainly read it as if it were a serious lament for someone the poet had loved who had died, or even for the death of God.

I have read the words of scholars who convincingly argue that the books we call “The Bible” were first written as political propaganda, starting in the reign of David to frighten his enemies and justify his sovereignty, perhaps.

In reader’s hearts, parody becomes serious lament and political propaganda becomes scripture.

In his book, How to Read the Bible, James Kugel wrote about the possibility that the ancient world made a connection between stars in the sky and Seraphim, the angels, or flaming creatures, who in Isaiah constantly praise God, saying, “Holy, holy, holy…”

Auden wrote, “The stars are not wanted now; put out every one.”

Imagine the sky filled with sparkling angels.  We put them out.

Another poet, E.E. Cummings, writing about love and stars and death, wrote, “Only the snow can begin to explain why children are apt to forget to remember.”

Auden wrote, “I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong.”

Do you see?  Love is the problem. It makes us oblivious to parody in poetry and propaganda in scripture.  Or it makes us forget.  And its most troubling aspect is that it does not last.

Auden and Darwin on Providence and Natural Selection

In a review of Loren Eiseley’s book, The Unexpected Universe, W. H. Auden wrote, “I must openly state my own bias and say that I do not believe in Chance;  I believe in Providence and Miracles.”

When Auden wrote those words, he was writing about Natural Selection and the role that Chance plays in life through that process.  His expression places Chance and Natural Selection in opposition to Providence and Miracles.  Auden wrote with grace about this opposition by referring to his own bias.

Albert Einstein stated the opposition elegantly, but with less grace:  “God does not play dice with the universe.”

George Gaylord Simpson, who sided with Chance rather than Providence, stated the opposition more forcefully and without grace:  “Man is the result of a purposeless and natural process that did not have him in mind.”

Thomas Huxley referred to this opposition as the great gulf between science and religion – whether Chance or Providence, indifference or benevolence, rules the universe.

The opposition matters.  If the outcomes in the game of life are governed by Chance, then the intelligent strategy for life is to cheat when we can, and to hedge when we cannot cheat.  If life is ruled by Providence, then the intelligent strategy is to negotiate with Providence, and, when we cannot negotiate, to pray for mercy.

Although reflexively I agree with Auden, I find it hard to sustain his bias.  My mind wants to concede some benevolence to Natural Selection and its partner Chance.

I think Simpson’s expression exaggerates the purposelessness of Natural Selection, of Nature, of the role of Chance in Nature.  Darwin did not assert what Simpson asserted, and Darwin, like Auden, wrote with grace.  Darwin observed that Natural Selection works to the benefit of each specie.  In The Origin of the Species, Chapter 4, he wrote that Nature selects “for the good of the being which she tends.”

Darwin’s expression leaves room for negotiation with Providence.  It leaves room for prayer.