To
ravish the sensuous mind
Lie
lightless, all their sparkles bleared and black and blind.
“Dim
moon-eyed fishes near
Gaze
at the gilded gear
And
query: 'What does this vaingloriousness down here?'...”—Thomas Hardy, “The Convergence of the Twain” (1912)
Yes, I know, Faithful Reader, that I am given to
posting a good deal about the Titanic. But you would, too, if you
had a relative on board who was lucky enough to be a survivor.
Now, two months after the centennial of the world’s fabled,
doomed luxury liner, another anniversary associated with the event occurs. One
hundred years ago this month, the Fortnightly
Review published a meditation by poet-novelist Thomas Hardy (1840-1928) on the “Pride of Life” that created the
ship—and the inexorable fate awaiting her in icy waters.
In 1898, following a huge controversy over the
then-frank sexuality of his novel Jude
the Obscure, Hardy had forsaken writing fiction for poetry. Even in this
genre that he pursued for the rest of his life, however, his themes remained
the same as when he was writing such novels as The Return of the Native and The Mayor of Casterbridge: the tortured relations between men and women, and the implacable workings
of Fate.
Hardy doesn’t concentrate on particular passengers
so much as create from the ship itself something like a human being. Its
arrogance, its ample display of wealth matters nothing to the “dim moon-eyed
fishes” now watching the massive vessel that has inexplicably joined them
(even sharing their "lightless" quality) beneath the waves.
For Hardy, an agnostic who had lost his faith years
ago, God was not the beneficent Savior of history. At best, if He existed at
all, He was a punishing, vengeful deity, as here, when the “Immanent Will,” observing
all the preening and arrogance related to this huge material thing, decides to
present it with a mate. But unlike God’s creation of Eve from Adam, this mate
is “sinister”: the iceberg that will sink Titanic
“twin halves of one august event.”(Nowadays, we would regard Hardy's "God" as doubly vengeful: one who, in the desire to strike at the few who are rich, disproportionately killed the many who were poor on board.)
Even the key word in the last line of the poem, “consummation,” would
normally mean the most intimate relationship between spouses, but here it
stands for the massive death that “jars two hemispheres”—the impact of this
transatlantic voyage.
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