A Victorian Judgement

Appearances always mattered, but for the Victorians, they were almost sacred. The focus, back in that era, was all on physical perfection, status, and wealth. In other words, class was what people took advantage of to be known and respected, and in “The Fifth Child”, the aspects of the Victorian era couldn’t remain hidden, but surfaced to doom the lives of David, Harriet, and many others, and it all starts with their fascination over the Victorian house, which they eventually buy and occupy. That was the beginning of their end, for they have marked themselves dependent upon an illusion of a happy, perfect life ever since, and that’s what the Victorian house, I think, stands for — the perfect exterior of a life hiding all of its interior’s flaws and problems. After all, Harriet’s requirements for a normal life of happiness seems to be everything but normal, especially for herself and David, whom are irresponsible.

It's quite strange to see that today's world is becoming a very sad replica of the Victorian era's beliefs, at least from where I come from. Most people will refer to this as Capitalism and all that follows, but honestly, let's drop the political/economical labels and take a moment to get back to the origins...

     Personally, I'd go with Nature, but I'm not going to lie and say Nature only, for it's obvious that a lot of things in this time and day require man-made concepts. After all, people still use their influence, status, money, and technology for many things, and that is fine. I speak of no morality; that's a subjective thing. However, man-made things push many of us to think that perfection could be achieved, and that in itself is unnatural — have you ever seen a perfect, unscathed path?

In the end, perfection is man-made and subjective, so who is it that will decide its measures?

The Artist

You, who light the way in Greece,

Son of a graceful thunder; Leto and Zeus.

You, protector of Delos, builder of Delphi,

Oh, Apollo, God of art and prophecy.

Healer of man, and father of medicine,

God of sun and all sources of brilliance.

Heir of Helios and brother of Artemis,

All kneel and pray before your greatness.

You, who seemed so mature in four days,

Avenged your mother, and took praise.

You, who claimed the throne with a play,

Killed the corrupt, each in a different way.

Burned Icarus’s wings for his vanity,

Butchered Marsyas for his blasphemy.

Embarrassed Midas for his idiocy,

And cursed Cassandra’s prophecy.

Yet, your warmth never faded,

Even when you cursed and plagued.

Both men and women fell for you,

Oh, Apollo, all praise be to you.

Nature of God

Ignorance is a bliss, they insist,

Yet beauty is what we couldn’t resist.

For in Nature, we indulge infinitely,

And in science, we succumb entirely.

It’s not that we need both to compete,

But rather build us up to be complete.

Gaia, hopelessly screams for saving,

Yet for the Muses, we keep raving.

                                            

Art and knowledge kept us all in awe,

Still our Earthly lives, we left so raw.

Balance we need, to see beauty of all.

Rivers, lakes, and ponds make waterfalls.

Trees, bushes, and fields make life so broad,

And here we stand, in full amazement we nod.

Inspiration is what we crave from such Ode,

For Nature is not ours, but rather belongs to God.

The Beginning

Well, this shall give every reader an insight to what might fit or oppose their beliefs concerning life's reality and its different interpretations.

     That said, this blog will contain writings ranging from simple assumptions and thoughts to thoroughly written stories and poems that share their events with our lives.

For everyone that actually still reads and writes in this unfortunate world, I ask of you to please share your thoughts.