There’s a famous line in William Butler Yeats’s 1919 poem “The Second Coming” that appears to apply to almost all post-WWI societies in a punctuated cycle. That line, “Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold,” is the poet’s pessimistic view of a world whose centers of civilization were disrupted by the madness of a war that destroyed cities and claimed millions of lives. Since that time and particularly recently, a number of political commentators have melodramatically used the line in their political despair.
I’m intrigued that many people in any society—past, present, and probably future—believe a disruption of their current status is an “end of the world” event. Maybe I have believed similarly at times. In doing so I—and they—exhibit both ignorance of the past and an intellectual weakness born of a narrow worldview. Of course, any personal disruption can be for an individual a major event, and some such events appear to be life-altering.
But whether or not a political event, a war, or a natural disaster is the destruction of “the centre” can’t really be known except in retrospect. Many seem to panic under the circumstances of sudden change and disappointment. Although it is true that the “centre” can, indeed “fall apart,” it is also true that some “centres” do so gradually and haltingly. Take Centralia, Pennsylvania, as an example.
Centralia overlies a rich anthracite coal field and was once the site of a highly active mining industry. Not so anymore. Its coal caught on fire decades ago, gradually baking the ground and releasing carbon monoxide into the town’s air. Eventually, the population abandoned it—but not all. The last census showed an ageing population of ten people still living in a community whose roads have been shrink-cracked as the ground dried under the excessive heat from below.
Possibly, those ten people just don’t want to let go of a world they once knew, a home where they were born, grew up, and made a life. Possibly, they cling to a center (centre) that holds only for them in an unrealistic view that it can be the center it once was. For their neighbors who abandoned their town for safer ground, however, Centralia fell apart and could not hold.
Centralia is the product of a physical destruction of the landscape just as the Europe of William Butler Yeats had been the product of physical disruption during WWI, a time when many “things” did fall apart, such as individual families, cities, and entire governments. For Centralia’s residents there appears to be no Second Coming in its immediate, or even distant, future. That’s a fact of a mine fire’s destruction (though the air quality has improved as of late because the fire is moving out of town).
Political and social centers are another story. There’s little one can point to that marks them as concrete entities clearly identifiable. Such centers are locked into individual and group emotions based on assumptions and perceptions. Look at the British press’s coverage of Brexit, for example. Look at the American press’s coverage of the election of 2016. For those in the press, broadcast media, and other interconnected groups, that apparent falling apart rose to the level of world-ending melodrama. Research firm FACTIVA noted that Yeats’s line was quoted more in 2016 than in any of the previous 30 years. *
Again, I’ll admit that for everyone, including me, a disruption of any kind can seem at the moment to be a dissolution of a “centre.” But history tells us that things that once fell apart have either re-coalesced or given way to a new center. Pessimism in the context of a physical change to the center, such as that caused by a war that killed millions, the Black Death that killed half the population of Europe, or a giant tsunami that killed 250,000, is, I think, understandable. Under such circumstances, only a few people out of many survivors can be emotionally resilient. But in general, humanity rebounds. Old “centres” can reform as such, or new centers take their places, sometimes, as in the rise of suburbia, as somewhat diffuse, but still recognizable centers.
But melodrama over social and political changes derive from emotional “centres,” and those are the least stable. They fall apart rather often, don’t they? That the line “Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold” was used so often of recent in Britain after Brexit, the USA after 2016, and France after recent terrorist attacks, bespeaks of an ignorance of history and possibly also of an egoism that can’t let go of a past and that can’t embrace the possibilities of a different kind of future.
Centralia’s 10 residents are ageing and will eventually pass into the area’s history. In their way, they have done what they could to maintain a center that had fallen apart. There might not be a potential for regrowth in the area for many years, just as there might not be a potential for regrowth of a population in Chernobyl, Ukraine. Physical disruption isn’t emotional disruption; it can be real, and it can last a long time. But history has given us a number of examples of revitalized centers that had at one time fallen apart: Hiroshima (atomic bomb), London and Berlin (conventional bombs), Kobe and San Francisco (earthquakes), and all those centers once devastated by the Black Death or the 1918 Spanish flu. When physical disruption isn’t long term, history shows us that centers can once again become centers.
Those who have of recent shown their despair over political change by quoting from “The Second Coming” might be a little less melodramatic if they look at the history of “centres.” All centers eventually fall apart to some extent, but in the absence of some long-term physical disruption, such as from dangerous radiation, volcanic eruptions, and ongoing wars, all centers can re-coalesce.
What centers center your life? Which have fallen apart? Which have re-coalesced? And finally, how desperate did you think you were when any center fell apart?
*FACTIVA.
I’m intrigued that many people in any society—past, present, and probably future—believe a disruption of their current status is an “end of the world” event. Maybe I have believed similarly at times. In doing so I—and they—exhibit both ignorance of the past and an intellectual weakness born of a narrow worldview. Of course, any personal disruption can be for an individual a major event, and some such events appear to be life-altering.
But whether or not a political event, a war, or a natural disaster is the destruction of “the centre” can’t really be known except in retrospect. Many seem to panic under the circumstances of sudden change and disappointment. Although it is true that the “centre” can, indeed “fall apart,” it is also true that some “centres” do so gradually and haltingly. Take Centralia, Pennsylvania, as an example.
Centralia overlies a rich anthracite coal field and was once the site of a highly active mining industry. Not so anymore. Its coal caught on fire decades ago, gradually baking the ground and releasing carbon monoxide into the town’s air. Eventually, the population abandoned it—but not all. The last census showed an ageing population of ten people still living in a community whose roads have been shrink-cracked as the ground dried under the excessive heat from below.
Possibly, those ten people just don’t want to let go of a world they once knew, a home where they were born, grew up, and made a life. Possibly, they cling to a center (centre) that holds only for them in an unrealistic view that it can be the center it once was. For their neighbors who abandoned their town for safer ground, however, Centralia fell apart and could not hold.
Centralia is the product of a physical destruction of the landscape just as the Europe of William Butler Yeats had been the product of physical disruption during WWI, a time when many “things” did fall apart, such as individual families, cities, and entire governments. For Centralia’s residents there appears to be no Second Coming in its immediate, or even distant, future. That’s a fact of a mine fire’s destruction (though the air quality has improved as of late because the fire is moving out of town).
Political and social centers are another story. There’s little one can point to that marks them as concrete entities clearly identifiable. Such centers are locked into individual and group emotions based on assumptions and perceptions. Look at the British press’s coverage of Brexit, for example. Look at the American press’s coverage of the election of 2016. For those in the press, broadcast media, and other interconnected groups, that apparent falling apart rose to the level of world-ending melodrama. Research firm FACTIVA noted that Yeats’s line was quoted more in 2016 than in any of the previous 30 years. *
Again, I’ll admit that for everyone, including me, a disruption of any kind can seem at the moment to be a dissolution of a “centre.” But history tells us that things that once fell apart have either re-coalesced or given way to a new center. Pessimism in the context of a physical change to the center, such as that caused by a war that killed millions, the Black Death that killed half the population of Europe, or a giant tsunami that killed 250,000, is, I think, understandable. Under such circumstances, only a few people out of many survivors can be emotionally resilient. But in general, humanity rebounds. Old “centres” can reform as such, or new centers take their places, sometimes, as in the rise of suburbia, as somewhat diffuse, but still recognizable centers.
But melodrama over social and political changes derive from emotional “centres,” and those are the least stable. They fall apart rather often, don’t they? That the line “Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold” was used so often of recent in Britain after Brexit, the USA after 2016, and France after recent terrorist attacks, bespeaks of an ignorance of history and possibly also of an egoism that can’t let go of a past and that can’t embrace the possibilities of a different kind of future.
Centralia’s 10 residents are ageing and will eventually pass into the area’s history. In their way, they have done what they could to maintain a center that had fallen apart. There might not be a potential for regrowth in the area for many years, just as there might not be a potential for regrowth of a population in Chernobyl, Ukraine. Physical disruption isn’t emotional disruption; it can be real, and it can last a long time. But history has given us a number of examples of revitalized centers that had at one time fallen apart: Hiroshima (atomic bomb), London and Berlin (conventional bombs), Kobe and San Francisco (earthquakes), and all those centers once devastated by the Black Death or the 1918 Spanish flu. When physical disruption isn’t long term, history shows us that centers can once again become centers.
Those who have of recent shown their despair over political change by quoting from “The Second Coming” might be a little less melodramatic if they look at the history of “centres.” All centers eventually fall apart to some extent, but in the absence of some long-term physical disruption, such as from dangerous radiation, volcanic eruptions, and ongoing wars, all centers can re-coalesce.
What centers center your life? Which have fallen apart? Which have re-coalesced? And finally, how desperate did you think you were when any center fell apart?
*FACTIVA.
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