Verse Seven

From the conservative dark
Into the ethical life
The dense commuters come,
Repeating their morning vow;
‘I will be true to the wife,
I’ll concentrate more on my work,’
And helpless governors wake
To resume their compulsory game:
Who can release them now,
Who can reach the dead,
Who can speak for the dumb?

September 1, 1939 by W. H. Auden

Years have passed since I shared the commuter experience.  I remember it well though.  Most vivid are the memories of the rush hour crowds on the train platform in Shinjuku, waiting silently, compliantly, as the train arrived that would take us to our connecting stations.  More recently the rush hour, bumper to bumper traffic into Chicago is an unpleasant memory.  At this juncture in my life I am a few feet away from the press of morning patrons at Starbucks who stand in a semi circle.   Three ragged rows standing, intent on the baristas working swiftly, or staring mesmerized into their little screens, until their Skinny Peppermint Mocha is ready.

Dense commuters, humanity en mass.  The incessant process, repeated year after year, rising to consciousness, from the solitude of sleep to the precipitous crush of being with others.  Wendel Berry has has said that the beginning of ethics, of propriety is the realization that one is not alone.  Yet, I know perfectly how mechanical the experience seems, each morning’s fresh resolve to be true to the marriage, to be more productive at work, ad infinitum.  Even at rarefied levels of leadership, the individual is swept along by the tyranny of past decisions, by the weight of precedent.  The old saying about turning over a new leaf…..forget it.

I call as witness to Auden’s lines, the lyrics of Bob Dylan performed by Jimi Hendrix and those of Paul Simon and Art Garfunkel.  There must be some way out of here, said the Joker to the Thief…..

And who can forget the words penned by Paul Simon and Art Garfunkel while we Americans were in the midst of an earlier war of empire, the Vietnam war.

And in the naked light I saw
Ten thousand people, maybe more
People talking without speaking
People hearing without listening

People writing songs that voices never share
And no one dare
Disturb the sound of silence

–Sounds of Silence by Simon and Garfunkel

Auden’s prescient words include all of us.

Who can release them now,
Who can reach the dead,
Who can speak for the dumb?