Dead Poets Society Paradox
I felt tremble after watching Dead Poets Society. Its kind brought me back to the night when I got into an argument with my lecturer over a simple question that I asked;
Why have our learning methods remained the same for the past decade? or perhaps even for millions of years there ain’t been no change at all. Is it because of the curriculum, I mean look at what we have now, education has become exclusive from grade to grade; only certain people from certain grades get the opportunity to learn certain things; and only those who learn certain things get the opportunity to enter a certain life.
More likely, I feel humanity has fallen beneath the jail. We’ve lived a life ain’t with the boundary purpose of freedom but up the river. Where laissez-faire has become a myth, therefore, each soul will be asked; where is your legal certification under the name of governor, even if it is nature’s parts of living beings — that has no relevance to its subject — it doesn’t matter. Because thats gonna be the starting point, where each soul gets divided.
And going back to the question I asked my lecturer earlier, there is still no answer as a way out. It seems we must still be forced to cling to the roots on the verge of obscurity. The dusty desks, the menacing empty walls, the lack of discussion — stagnant, yet accumulating numbers as a cold ledger between right and wrong.
Yeah there’s no point…
but in spite of all that, comrades, just do as soever as you want; to take a good part in this unjust life.
Dead Poets Society (1989)
Not a movie review.
At the start of this movie, we are introduced to John Keating, an English teacher at Welton Academy, or as he calls it, ‘Hell-town.’ He tells the students to read the first stanza of the poem which entitled ‘To the Virgins, to Make Much of Time’ by Robert Herrick.
From the lines: “Gather ye rosebuds while ye may. Old Time is still a-flying” — Mr. Keat’s empasized, the latin of that sentiment is Carpe diem; seize the days.
And then moving to the next lines: “And this same flower that smiles today
Tomorrow will be dying.” — He asked the students about why does the writer use those lines, none correct answers, therefore Mr. Keat’s remains:
Because of we are food for worms, lads. Because believe it or not, each and everyone of us in this room, is one day going to stop breathing, turn cold and die.
That’s why I’ve told, a good piece of art can truly heal. We already know that one day each of us are going to die. But the way Mr. Keat explained it, his words weren’t just an implication of human to human communication — but the language is a poetry itself, as a poignant reminder. Because when we faces such realities, we often find ourselves trapped in the endless loop of process, mired in what has always been there, for this case, the stillness of the death.
Defining Poetry
In my first year into Literature, I may have delved into the types and elements of poetry. I was uncertain about the boundaries that define someone as a poet. Is someone who writes poetry a poet? Yes, of course. But how many poems does one have to write to be considered a poet? And what exactly is a poem? What things is a poetry. I know there are countless pages of explanations in books, essays and schools of thought devoted to this question.
I am not a poet, there is no such thing as a poet — but only a form of grievance within oneself.
Furthermore, you can’t define a poetry like an glassy man with his strict adherence to structure from line-by-line:
“‘Understanding Poetry, by Dr J. Evans Pritchard, Ph.D. — To fully understand poetry, we must first be fluent in its meter, rhyme and figures of speech, and then ask two questions: 1) how artfully has the poem’s purpose been expressed, and 2) how important is that purpose? Question 1 assesses the poem’s perfection; question 2 assesses its importance. And once these questions have been answered, determining the greatness of the poem becomes a relatively simple matter. If the poem’s score for perfection is plotted on the horizontal axis of a graph, and its importance on the vertical, then calculating the total area of the poem gives the measure of its greatness. A sonnet by Byron might score high on the vertical but only average on the horizontal. A Shakespearean sonnet, on the other hand, would score high on both the horizontal and the vertical, giving a massive total area, and thus revealing the poem to be truly great. As you progress through the poems in this book, practise this method of evaluation. As your ability to rate poems in this way grows, so will your enjoyment and understanding of poetry.”
And then there’s the moment when Mr Keat explains:
“we’re not lying pipe, we’re talking about poetry. How can you describe poetry like american band stan? I do like Byron, I give him a 42, but I can’t dance to it.’ Now, I want you to rip out that page…”
Keep ripping, gentlemen! This is a battle. A war. And the casualties could be your hearts and souls. No matter what anybody tells you, words and ideas can change the world. Armies of academics going forward, measuring poetry. No! We’ll not have that here. I have a little secret for ya:
We don’t read and write poetry because it’s cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race.
Medicine, law, business, engineering, these are all noble pursuits, and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love, these are what we stay alive for.
“‘To quote from Whitman: “O me, o life of the questions of these recurring, of the endless trains of the faithless, of cities filled with the foolish. What good amid these, o me, o life? Answer: that you are here. That life exists, and identity. That the powerful play goes on, and you may contribute a verse. — So what will your verse be?”.
This is the kind of things that I need to heard back when I was in my first years into literature, but what have I got? Yeah nothing but a booring slides that defines the subject. And moving on to Mr Keat’s spirit as a teacher, in my whole life of studying I have never met one, oh I might have had one, but that didn’t last longer than six months because of this and that reasons. So what about you then? Have you ever had a teacher who was not a puppet of the curriculum? A teacher who actually teaches.
Rest in Peace, Robin Williams.
