In the Society of Dead Poets

I thought I was simply a post-mortem anglophile when it comes to literature (the authors are dead, not me), but strangely, or not so strangely, I think it is rather that I am drawn to books to which I can relate, but then books are sometimes likened to our dearest friends and who has a dear friend with whom they share nothing in common?  Sometimes I feel like an anachronism: out of place and time when I might have lived 200 years ago, but thanks to books, I can still enjoy all the convenience of modernity and still 'live' in by-gone days.

My current project is 'Lorna Doone,' I finally watched the DVD I got for my birthday last year and it was excellent, forcing me to seek out the source material, which may be the longest book I've ever read, but happily it is well worth the reading, at least if you appreciate the author's wit and obvious enjoyment of bucolic life, but I fear the urban modern may find it tedious, dull, and the language nearly incomprehensible (I admit the sections, though few, 'written' in the local dialect make middle english look readable).  There are certainly no zombies, except maybe the mysterious fellow in the night cap who is out digging a hole behind the Wizard's Slough, though I have not read far enough to uncover that mystery.  It is strange to think that this book, if written today, would likely not fare well at all.

So what is it I love about the work of dead Englishmen?  For one thing, they know how to use the language, their prose is very nearly poetic in places (George MacDonald is a Scotsman, but Scotland is still subject to the Crown) and many have the knack for a witty turn (most especially Miss Austen).  Second, they love their country and know it in all its moods and seasons, now I am not talking English politics here but rather the natural world about them: forest and fen, field and hedgerow in dawn and dusk, rain and sunshine; the natural world is almost as vital a character as any human in most tales, sometimes the most important.  Third, the characters are actually people, rather than avatars that must run around accomplishing tasks while spouting the occasional witty repartee (have you been to the movies of late?) and avoiding zombies, explosions, aliens, or whatever threat of imminent death awaits them.  Nothing really happens in a Jane Austen novel, at least nothing that should spawn a five hour movie, but the characters and the dialogue are what make 'Pride and Prejudice' a classic.  And lastly, perhaps it is the common humanity of each work that draws me in, rather than a juiced up comic book, these novels explore what it is to be human: to live, to suffer, to struggle, to laugh, to yearn, to be disappointed, but in the end, to triumph.

In our materialistic world, where our value is based upon our power, friends, possessions, social status, or whatever, these books take each human soul at face value: you are valuable because you are a person, and nothing can be taken from or added to that value by external sources, save the One who made you.  And as a person, you are possessed of various blessings and curses, joys and sufferings, and these books explore that enigma, that paradox, and help us understand ourselves and our world a little better.