Showing posts with label substance abuse. Show all posts
Showing posts with label substance abuse. Show all posts

Sunday, May 31, 2009

Moloch and the Lamb: The Holy War of Conformism and Proto-Counter Culture in Allen Ginsberg’s Howl

During the 1950’s a large movement of American writers, artists, and musicians achieved considerable notoriety for creating literature, works of art and music that dissented from what they deemed the prejudiced and oppressive mainstream American ideals of conformism and materialism. Out of this movement, which soon became known as the “Beat Generation,” a counterculture manifesto entitled Howl by Allen Ginsberg was spawned. Since Ginsberg brought his groundbreaking work to the forefront of the American consciousness, it has become a defining work of beat literature.

Howl is written in free verse, a form of poetry that does not adhere to a uniform rhyme or meter. According to Robert Henson in his article entitled “Howl in the Classroom”, the authorial decision to write in this fashion demonstrates Ginsberg’s personal belief that the “mind is shapely” and when “practiced in spontaneity” it “invents form in its own image” (Henson 8). Howl in and of itself is a repudiation of adherence to uniform rhyme and meter as the sole path to creating poetry that can be considered art. Literary criticism has also defined works such as Howl as stream of consciousness narrative, a term adopted from psychological discourse. Stream-of-consciousness narrative is a mode of narration meant to represent the thought process of the narrator. Therefore not only is Howl a protest against conformity but an authorial confession in which Ginsberg bears his heart and soul for all the world to see.

The poem was originally written in three sections with a fourth section written some time later. Much more than a mere protest, Howl can easily be defined as the chronicle of a holy war that was waged between conformist, materialist, mainstream American culture and the burgeoning proto-counter culture movement of the 1940’s and 1950’s. The first three sections can be read as three waves of attack. Drawing from Ginsberg’s personal experience and that of other poets, artists, dissidents, musicians, junkies, and psychiatric patients, the first section offers a deeply troubling portrayal of the marginalized, pathologized and essentially beaten down members of society whom Ginsberg would refer to as the “lamb” in later reflections upon the poem. In the poem’s opening line Ginsberg tells us “I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness” (Norton Anthology 2576). Those who Ginsberg defines as the “best minds” would have been perceived by the mainstream culture as societal rejects. As Mark Doty points out in his article entitled “Human Seraphim: Howl, Sex, and Holiness”, these marginalized members of American society were under the constant threat of being jailed, medicated, or hospitalized because those who refused to adhere to a binary system of heteronormativity, those who exercised their right to political dissent, those who sought enlightenment through experimentation with illicit drugs were deemed deviant and deranged (Doty 7). For Ginsberg to define people who have been driven to insanity as “the best minds” is an audacious and deliberate subversion of conventionality and an attack against what the “Beat Generation” deemed a conformist and materialistic society.

Of the people whom mainstream American culture perceived to be a generation of degenerates, homosexuals and drugs addicts were considered most perverse. Homosexual imagery and experimentation with illicit drugs abound in this first attack. Not only does Ginsberg portray homosexual acts and drug use with shameless candor, he employs religious terminology and mythological allusions in an effort to make these aspects of the human condition holy. Mark Doty echoes this sentiment when he defines Howl as “a chronicle of friends seeking…transcendence…through whatever means they find at hand” (Doty 7). Drug addicts experiencing withdrawals are suddenly transformed into “angelheaded” figures yearning for an “ancient heavenly connection”, homosexual men performing filatio become “human seraphim” and anal sex is “saintly”. In terms of war, homosexuality and drugs become Ginsberg’s artillery as they obliterate preconceived notions of heteronormativity and what it means to be a respectable human being.

The second section of Howl, which was inspired during a drug-fueled hallucinatory experience, attacks the destructive forces of materialism and conformism. Ginsberg opens with the following rhetorical question: “What sphinx of cement and aluminum bashed open their skulls and ate up their brains and imagination?” (Norton 2581). Ginsberg immediately answers with “Moloch…unobtainable dollars! Children screaming under the stairways! Boys sobbing in armies! Old men weeping in the parks!” (Norton 2581). The true state of America, Ginsberg claims, is one of perverted faith, oppression and neglect. It is the capitalistic idolatry of materialism and conformism, which Ginsberg characterizes as “Moloch”, that has transformed the American psyche into an inhuman mechanism perpetually and fruitlessly pining after the almighty buck, that abandons starving children in the streets, that requires young men to perish on the battlefield in service of “democracy”, and that proclaims members of elder generations dead before their time.

This culture, in which skyscrapers, factories, laboratories, and asylums mark the otherwise barren landscape like altars to technological and scientific advancement, subdues the masses into blind acceptance of a hollow existence or drives them to insanity and rebellion. “Moloch” frightens us out of our “natural ecstasy”, transmogrifying the sexual passion of men into “granite cocks”. We “Wake up in Moloch” for it has stolen our dreams and replaced them with its nightmarish visions of death and insanity. In the Old Testament of the Bible, it is written that Moloch was a Hebrew idol that required the sacrifice of children as burnt offerings. “And you shall let any of your seed pass through the fire to Moloch, and so profane the name of your God; I am the Lord” (Leviticus 18:21). By likening the mechanized state of industrialized civilization to “Moloch”, Ginsberg condemns the false idols of materialism and conformism to which he perceives “the lambs” of society are being sacrificed. His condemnation of these false idols is a clarion call for all those under the oppression of materialism and conformism to take up arms.

The third section of Howl is addressed to Carl Solomon, a man Ginsberg befriended while both were patients at the Columbia Psychiatric Institute in Rockland, New York. This is perhaps the most powerful section of Howl. Like those “who broke down crying in white gymnasiums naked and trembling before the machinery of other skeletons” (Norton Anthology 2578), Solomon embodies “the lamb” brought to complete mental ruin by the oppressive force of the psychiatric hospital that seeks to “cure” homosexuals and drug users of their perversity. Ginsberg writes, “I’m with you in Rockland where fifty more shocks will never return your soul to its body again from its pilgrimage to a cross in the void” (Norton Anthology 2583). In this disturbing image of electroshock therapy, Solomon becomes a casualty of war. He has paid the ultimate price for insurrection against conformist society – his freedom and sanity. Comparable to his efforts in the first section to sanctify homosexual acts and experimentation with drugs, Ginsberg employs religious imagery in his depiction of Solomon’s descent into spiritual death. Solomon makes a “pilgrimage” to a “cross” shaped table upon which he will receive “treatment”. This image is reminiscent of Jesus Christ’s crucifixion. Ginsberg is likening Solomon’s demise to a messianic sacrifice, one that will result in the redemption of humankind. However, Ginsberg does draw a difference between Solomon and Christ. Whereas Christ rose from the dead, Solomon’s body will never regain his soul. He is trapped within a “concrete void of insulin metrasol electricity hydrotherapy psychotherapy”, spiritually dead (Norton Anthology 2580). The sole redemption that can be derived from Solomon’s suffering is that the world will be awakened to the barbaric practices of mental institutions and the prejudiced, intolerant nature of the society which allows for such crimes against humanity to occur.

In the fourth and final section of the poem, entitled “Footnote to Howl”, Ginsberg claims “Everything is holy ! everybody’s holy ! everywhere is holy !” (Norton Anthology 2583). This can be read as Ginsberg extending an olive branch to “Moloch” or industrialized civilization. It is essentially an armistice drafted by Ginsberg on behalf of the Beat Generation, inspired by the transcendentalist notion that transcendence or holiness can be discovered in every aspect of the human condition.

Works Cited

Doty, Mark. "Human Seraphim: Howl, Sex, and Holiness." American Poetry Review 35 (2006): 6-8.

Ginsberg, Allen. "Howl." The Norton Anthology of American Literature, Seventh Edition: Volume E 1945 to the Present. Ed. Nina Baym. New York: W. W. Norton, 2007. 2576-584.

Henson, Robert. "Howl in the Classroom." CEA Critic 23 (1961): 8-9.

The New English Bible. NY: Oxford University Press, 1972.


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Moloch and the Lamb: The Holy War of Conformism and Proto-Counter Culture in Allen Ginsberg’s Howl by Joshua Alan Blodgett is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 United States License.
Based on a work at verboseprose86.blogspot.com.

Friday, May 29, 2009

Follow the White Rabbit

Down the rabbit hole
Life rapidly unfolds
Drinking the bittersweet
Can’t stand upon my feet
Just down another pill
Is this fate or my free will?
Oh the answers never come

All I can do is run
And disappear
What have I become?
Fading into shadows
At the barrel of a gun

Voices call to me
It’s pure insanity
Losing all control
I never seem to know
How to fill this void
Am I human or a toy?
Oh I feel like a little boy

All I can do is run
And disappear
What have I become?
Fading into shadows
At the barrel of a gun

Run, run, run away

All I have is lies (hiding shame)
Lies to escape (kill the pain)
From pain that never dies

This pain will never die
This pain will never die
This pain will never die


Creative Commons License
Follow the White Rabbit by Joshua Alan Blodgett is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 United States License.
Based on a work at verboseprose86.blogspot.com.

Heroine

I’ve tried to replace you
With every kind of high
Cause you were just the same girl
Here and gone again in the blink of an eye

Minutes turn to hours
And hours into days
And life ain’t been the same girl
Broken hearted misery since you went away

In the dark of night
I’m thinking of your face
When the sun is bright
I’m dreaming of a place
Where you’re still with me
You’re gone but still the memories
Play with my broken heart
Singing morbid lullabies
As my world is torn apart

Now I wait in silence
Your picture on my wall
Drowning in these tears girl
Cause you lied and never loved at all

And I still replace you
Every single night
Sinking ‘neath the waves girl
Cause I’ve died and given up the fight
In the dark of night
I’m thinking of your face
When the sun is bright
I’m dreaming of a place
Where you’re still with me
You’re gone but still the memories
Play with my broken heart
Singing morbid lullabies
As my world is torn apart


Creative Commons License
Heroine by Joshua Alan Blodgett is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 United States License.
Based on a work at verboseprose86.blogspot.com.

Seizing the Divinity Within You

All the world's a stage
And all the men and women merely players
They have their exits and their entrances
And one man in his time plays many parts

- William Shakespeare "As You Like It"

Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn't do than by the things you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Dream. Discover.

- Mark Twain

I have been blessed with what one could define as a philosophical disposition, though in my younger years I perceived this inherent inclination towards unmitigated ponderance to be more of a curse. I am always questioning, always seeking. Seeking what you ask? Honestly, sometimes even I am unable to answer that question. The meaning of life, I suppose. My individual purpose. Kindred spirits. Why every experience, the mundane, the uplifting, the disheartening, transpires the way it does. I am both the creator and witness of countless unrequited internal inquiries waging war upon the battlefield of my psyche. Sometimes I am terrified. But most times I bask in the glory of it all. I possess an intellect that sneers at respite. Even in sleep my dreams are so vivid that when I wake it is often as if I had never slept at all. I am not worried, however. I can sleep when I am dead. At times I become so deeply entranced in thought that the outside world all but disappears. To embrace solitude is a spiritual experience.


The diagnosis of Freudian disciples delivered when I was a young boy fingered severe anxiety and depression as the culprits. Here is a prescription for the anxiety, a prescription for the depression, and a prescription to counteract the severe headaches and diarrhea the other two prescriptions have been known to cause, they say. Unless you begin to experience suicidality or homicidal rage come back in a week. We’ll place you on a scale, make irrelevant inquiries employing language we know you have never heard before, utter the occasional “I see” and “How does that make you feel?” in an unconvincing effort to feign undivided attention, and pretend to take notes while intently watching the clock. And when the minions of Harvard and Yale are at a loss as to the root of your “anxiety” and “depression” they appeal to you for answers. Why are you disruptive in the classroom? Why did you give Johnny a black eye? Well doctor, I have an overactive imagination for which conventional academia possesses neither patience nor sufficient resources and Johnny developed this peculiar pastime where he along with his horde of sadistic friends take turns slamming me into lockers while shouting homophobic epithets they learned from their overbearing, narcissistic fathers. Unfortunately, a child seldom possesses the mental faculties or courage to speak so deliberately with eloquence and confidence. So you sit there, like a criminal defendant upon the witness stand, like a martyr for self-defense, capable of answering in a solely self-incriminating fashion. Medication is their solution for everything. It's nickel and dime.


Occasionally you will cross paths with a golden hearted over achiever who is sincerely sympathetic to your plight, who probably studied at a middle tier university and came out believing they could save humanity one lost soul at a time. I admire their fortitude for their efforts constitute an arduous uphill battle. But one must be ever vigilant. They can be equally dangerous. It is so absurdly simple to become dependent upon such a relationship or any relationship for that matter. No human being is an island but excessive dependence is an unnatural suppression, a murder of the individual spirit that feasts upon fear. In reality, there is truly nothing to fear but fear itself. We possess all that we will ever need to succeed in life. Need is simply an illusion. All that is required of us is to look within. We are the creators of our own reality. Whether or not we are conscious of this truth depends upon how aware we are of our inner monologue. How we think, how we speak to ourselves determines what we become in every moment.


When relationships fail it is not because either person lacked something the other was in need of, it is because their respective paradigms were illusions of need. To ask another to fill a supposed void in your life is an unfair and impossible task. They will certainly fail as will you if they are to demand the same. This wisdom appeared straightforward once I had attained it and I wondered why I had not been ready to receive it earlier in life. Nevertheless, it has come to me after many years of loneliness and at a great cost. I have witnessed the brightest of stars consumed by darkness because they could not see the divine within themselves. I have had to say goodbye to friends too soon because they failed to recognize that all their pain could be alleviated by one simple truth. And yet I was no different from them. I have found myself at the bottom of a bottle, swimming in a tempestuous sea of self loathing more times than I care to remember. In my mind I have dangled at the end of a rope and felt ice cold steel pressed against my temple. So I have asked myself, why me? Why do I remain? I cannot answer that. I can only strive to mold myself as a living testament to those I have loved and lost. To do anything less would be a step backwards in my continuing evolution of self. Admittedly, I stray from the path more often than I would like. This is to be expected. That is the very beauty of life, of the human condition. Around each corner there is always another obstacle to overcome, another truth to learn, another beginning and end.


Friends and family have often told me in jest that what I have always struggled with is a creative mind at work. All artists are tortured souls, they say. But I am not an artist. Not yet at least. Art demands discipline, sacrifice, and positive affirmation. And these are not shallow terms thrown carelessly to the wind. Together they form a mantra for holy, purpose driven living. A creative spirit is undeniably the very soul of art and yet without discipline, without sacrifice, without the consistent, earnest affirmation of distinct, unambiguous goals every wild notion the imagination can concoct is just another pipe dream. But by all means dream! The world needs more dreamers! For without dreams life would be utterly meaningless. Understanding of discipline, sacrifice, and positive affirmation will come with time. When you have begun to master these principles, that is when creativity, the divinity within you can truly flourish.




Creative Commons License
Seizing the Divinity Within You by Joshua Alan Blodgett is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 United States License.
Based on a work at verboseprose86.blogspot.com.