In circa 1802, the poet William Wordsworth wrote a poem that was determined to be a criticism of the First Industrial Revolution “for being absorbed in materialism and distancing itself from nature.” Wordsworth wrote this:
The world is too much with us; late and soon,
Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers;—
Little we see in Nature that is ours;
We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon!
It is possible that the concerns expressed in this famous 19th century sonnet may ring true to many of us who live in the 21st century world. When I troll the posts on a social media site, many commenters voice the kind of worries for the world that are not unlike those that Wordsworth penned in his poem. But customarily, I address those concerns in only the most oblique way, with subtle references and bon mots. And with references to one of my loves: Poetry.
For those of us in the audience who are paying attention — and reading, often — I first used Wordsworth’s poem as a reference in a column I wrote that was published in the August 5th, 2016, issue of The Weekly View. Ethel Winslow, the editor of the paper, chose to repeat the column four years later, on August 8th, 2024, when I confessed to being bereft of ideas. (It helps to have a stash of columns from which an editor can select.) A reader sent me an e-mail after the second publication of “Out Of Tune,” expressing appreciation for my approach to addressing the ways in which we, in this country, were “out of tune.”
In “Thanks For Reading,” (November 30th, 2023), I thanked Lori, Rick and Cindy; Laura, Ralph, James, Melinda, Mary Lou, Mike, Kari, Daniel, Tom; Jeremy, Stephanie, David, Ken, and Douglas; and Phil, Jack, Beth and Jeff. I met many of those people in the original Irvington location of the Coal Yard Coffee Company on Bonna Avenue, where Leslie Walsh would find muffins for my youngest granddaughter.
As I wrote above, I love poetry, and one of my favorite poems was written by Dylan Thomas. When I was introduced to it in 1982, I was an “adult” (way over 18 years-old) student at Indiana University Southeast in Southern Indiana. “In My Craft or Sullen Art” speaks to the poet’s motivation for crafting his art, and I borrow it from him to (partly) explain to you why I do what I do.
Not for ambition or bread…
(Not) for the towering dead…
But for the lovers, their arms
Round the griefs of the ages…
And I keep writing for Susie, who advised me to “Keep typing.” I will, Susie; please keep reading.
cjon3acd@att.net