Thursday, May 4, 2017

Common Sense Romance




My daughter has been memorizing portions of the epic poem “Horatius at the Bridge” in her third grade class, as my son did three years ago when he was in third grade. I have delighted in this great poem as I’ve heard my children recite its lilting verse, but I did not fully grasp its significance until recently.

G. K. Chesterton says,
All romances consist of three characters… For the sake of argument they may be called St. George and the Dragon and the Princess. In every romance there must be the twin elements of loving and fighting. In every romance there must be the three characters: there must be the Princess, who is a thing to be loved; there must be the Dragon, who is a thing to be fought; and there must be St. George, who is a thing that both loves and fights. … [T]he philosophers of today have started to divide loving from fighting and to put them into opposite camps. [But] the two things imply each other; they implied each other in the old romance and in the old religion, which were the two permanent things of humanity. You cannot love a thing without wanting to fight for it. You cannot fight without something to fight for. To love a thing without wishing to fight for it is not love at all . . . (Appreciations and Criticism of the Works of Charles Dickens, CW 15:255)*

After reading these words, I revisited Horatius with fresh eyes. I now see Horatius as a man who first of all loves, and then fights. He is a man honored and revered not only for his courage, but because he fights for what he loves. Consider his rallying speech:

Then out spake brave Horatius,
  The Captain of the gate:
“To every man upon this earth
  Death cometh soon or late.
And how can man die better
  Than facing fearful odds
For the ashes of his fathers
  And the temples of his gods,


“And for the tender mother
  Who dandled him to rest,
And for the wife who nurses
  His baby at her breast,
And for the holy maidens
  Who feed the eternal flame,—
To save them from false Sextus
  That wrought the deed of shame?


“Hew down the bridge, Sir Consul,
  With all the speed ye may;
I, with two more to help me,
  Will hold the foe in play.
In yon strait path a thousand
  May well be stopped by three:
Now who will stand on either hand,
  And keep the bridge with me?”


And when the bridge has crashed and Horatius stands alone against his foes, he looks across the river to the Rome he loves. He speaks not to his enemy:
 
But he saw on Palatinus
  The white porch of his home;
And he spake to the noble river
  That rolls by the towers of Rome:



Horatius fights for his home, his way of life. This is a beautiful image. The above picture of Horatius is my favorite (of his many depictions) because, amidst the battle, it seems to capture his love and longing for his home. After this moment of reflection he hurls himself, injured, into the raging current, and makes it back to his beloved home after risking his life to protect it. He has defeated the dragon and saved the princess.

Chesterton and Horatius prompt us to consider that what we love is worth fighting for. This is why, as Dale Ahlquist says, “it is common sense to be a romantic.” After a hiatus of 6 years from my blog, my decision to return was prompted largely by this image of the common sense romance. Several years of studying philosophy reinforced to me the importance of defending what I love. My new blog name, “At the Bridge,” reflects a desire to preserve the vision of human flourishing that I love, and that is founded upon truth. In keeping with the classical tradition, I anticipate that this journey will involve exploring and sharing the good stories of good men and women, who remind us of eternal truths. Like Horatius.

When the goodman mends his armor,
  And trims his helmet’s plume;
When the goodwife’s shuttle merrily
  Goes flashing through the loom;
With weeping and with laughter
  Still is the story told,
How well Horatius kept the bridge
  In the brave days of old.



*I am grateful to Dale Ahlquist for introducing me to some Chesterton works I might not have read otherwise. This quotation was taken from his book Common Sense 101: Lessons from G. K. Chesterton, which I highly recommend.

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