Brian Flanagan - Academia.edu (original) (raw)
Speech by Brian Flanagan, associate director of the Hauenstein Center here is no new thing to be ... more Speech by Brian Flanagan, associate director of the Hauenstein Center here is no new thing to be said about Lincoln," a congressman from Kansas once eulogized, There is no new thing to be said of the mountains, or of the sea, or of the stars. The years go their way, but the same old mountains lift their granite shoulders above the drifting clouds; the same mysterious sea beats upon the shore; the same silent stars keep holy vigil above a tired world. But to the mountains and sea and stars, men turn forever in unwearied homage. And thus with Lincoln. For he was a mountain in grandeur of soul, he was a sea in deep undervoice of mystic loneliness, he was a star in steadfast purity of purpose and service. And he abides.[1] One year before these words were uttered, President Warren Harding dedicated the Lincoln Memorial. Housed in a shrine designed to mimic the Temple of Zeus in Olympia, Lincoln's massive, 20-foot, marble statue towers above visitors, below the inscription: "In this temple, as in the hearts of the people for whom he saved the Union, the memory of Abraham Lincoln is enshrined forever." A surviving 19 th century silver print has Lincoln in the arms of George Washington, wearing Apollo's laurel crown, and ascending bodily into heaven. Since his assassination, it's fair to say, we Americans have been none too bashful in our praise of Lincoln. Mythology and marble, however, can obscure flesh and blood, and it is the work of historians to bring Lincoln back to life as a human being-to give us a more intimate view of the man. It is important, for example, to understand Lincoln's views on race and on civil liberties in wartime. It is important to explore the controversies of Lincoln's life and legacy, and to find substance and truth. Lincoln scholars today-Donald, McPherson, Goodwin, Guelzo, Holzer, Neely, White, Burlingame, and others-are doing a commendable job of it. Yet, I'm going to argue, this should not detract from the Myth of Lincoln, which itself is quite powerful. Joseph Campbell, the late writer and mythologist, spent a career finding red threads connecting myths from the great cultures of the world. Mythology, said Campbell, has a "pedagogical function, of how to live a human lifetime under any circumstances." "Myths," he said, "can teach you that."[2] Those of you familiar with Joseph Campbell will be familiar with his best-known work, The Hero with a Thousand Faces, which traces the journey of what he calls the archetypal hero and links Odysseus to Mohammed to Christ to the Buddha and King Arthur and George Washington and Luke Skywalker. In the hero's journey, Campbell found a mythology that spans all cultures in all times, a truly human story. The plot is simple. Our heroes receive a call to adventure, accept it, cross a threshold into an unfamiliar world, endure a road of trials, and ultimately obtain a boon-often at the cost of great personal sacrifice-that will redound to the benefit of the broader society. These heroes are sometimes fictional, sometimes factual, but their journey-one we will clarify through Lincoln's example in a moment-blazes a trail that we can envision when we hear our own calls to adventure. "[W]e have not … to risk the adventure alone," Campbell said, "for the heroes of all time have gone before us. The labyrinth is thoroughly known. We have only to follow the thread of the hero path…."[3] We read and hear stories in our youth and adolescence, we witness heroic actions throughout our lifetime, and along the way we learn important lessons. One of which, in Campbell's words, is that "at the bottom of the abyss comes the voice of salvation…. At the darkest moment comes light."[4] Lincoln, as we shall see, made use of this lesson in his life. He, of course, had numerous heroes-men who helped light the path when he received his call. He grew up with Parson Weems's heroic depiction of George Washington. Shakespeare's political and tragic heroes-Marcus Brutus, Lear, Macbeth, and Hamlet-fascinated Lincoln. In politics he had Henry Clay and Daniel Webster. Most importantly, he had his Bible and the heroic journeys of Moses and Jesus. These heroes had an enormous impact on Lincoln's thinking, and they helped shape his life and work. Of course we must bring heroes down to the ground, to the flesh and blood, to the fullest substance of truth we can obtain. But we must also celebrate what is heroic in them, internalize their lessons, and then we can call upon their example when we face our own physical and spiritual trials. "T Download in iTunes. Hero's Journey I: Lincoln's Depression Lincoln, I think, is truly heroic in three primary ways. We can recognize three hero's journeys in which Lincoln accepted a call to action, endured great trials, and obtained a boon for his fellow man. First, he overcame his own debilitating depression, and the sorrowful events of his life, and emerged with an ambition, in his words, to make the world "a little better for my having lived in it."[5] Second, he overcame his own poverty and emerged as a competent professional with the skill set and the wherewithal to achieve his ambition, and to rise from the log cabin to the White House. Third-Lincoln's most recognizably heroic act-he overcame the nation's profound divisions and removed forever, from the land, the great sin of slavery. First, let's look at Lincoln's depression: his inner hero's journey. We recognize today that Lincoln was likely genetically predisposed to depression. His father had a depressive streak, often striking out on long, lonely walks in the woods, muttering to himself. His mother was known for her melancholy, and the family of his uncles and cousins exhibited symptoms of mental illness, several of them landing later in asylums.[6] Lincoln, himself, was remembered-by family, neighbors, and work associates-as a profoundly melancholy man. He wore his sadness on his face. There's a now famous story about Leo Tolstoy venturing up into the Caucusus Mountains between Europe and Asia, and discussing Lincoln's accomplishments with a Muslim chieftain there. "He spoke with a voice of thunder, he laughed like the sunrise, and his deeds were as strong as rock," the chieftain said of Lincoln.[7] After seeing a photograph of Lincoln, however, his mood changed. "He gazed [at it] for several minutes silently," Tolstoy later said, like one in a reverent prayer; his eyes filled with tears. He was deeply touched and I asked him why he became so sad. After pondering my question for a few moments he replied … "Don't you find, judging from his picture, that his eyes are full of tears and that his lips are sad with a secret sorrow?"[8] Lincoln struggled mightily with his depression. His neighbors and friends would long remember his withdrawn, moody spells. They were common, and in the words of Lincoln biographer, Joshua Wolf Shenk, they were, just one thread in a curious fabric of behavior and thought that Lincoln's friends and colleagues called his "melancholy." He often wept in public and recited maudlin poetry. He told jokes and stories at odd times-he needed the laughs, he said, for his survival. As a young man he talked of suicide, and as he grew older, he said he saw the world as hard and grim, full of misery, made that way by fates and forces of God."[9] According to one of Lincoln's legal associates, "No element of Mr. Lincoln's character was so marked, obvious and ingrained as his mysterious and profound melancholy."[10] According to Lincoln's longtime law partner William Herndon-who conducted numerous interviews with Lincoln's family, friends, and colleagues, and wrote one of the first and best-researched biographies after Lincoln's death-"His melancholy dripped from him as he walked."[11] Lincoln recognized his sorry state, and he recognized-as did those around him-the dangers inherent. In one of his deepest moments of sorrow, he wrote to yet another legal associate (he was not bashful about his depression), "To remain as I am is impossible; I must die or be better…."[12] This was Lincoln first call to action. He recognized that he must overcome his depression if he was going to continue on.