I just read Staring at the Void by Joanna Bourke (Aug. 30, 2017 Wall Street Journal), a book review of The Human Predicament by David Benatar. The review said this is Benatar's message: "Ultimately, our lives are meaningless. Evolution is blind and serves no intrinsic purpose; in a cosmic sense, we each live for an insignificant amount of time. Furthermore, the lives we do lead are often suffused with suffering." Well, that is not cheerful. I see a recurring melancholy in atheist writing.
Here are some sections from The Garden of Proserpine by Algernon Charles Swinburne. I sense a melancholy mood here.
...
Though one were strong as seven,
He too with death shall dwell,
Nor wake with wings in heaven,
Nor weep for pains in hell;
Though one were fair as roses,
His beauty clouds and closes;
And well though love reposes,
In the end it is not well.
...
From too much love of living,
From hope and fear set free,
We thank with brief thanksgiving
Whatever gods may be
That no life lives for ever;
That dead men rise up never;
That even the weariest river
Winds somewhere safe to sea.
Here is a section from Gravelly Run by A. R. Ammons and I found the poem veering away from lovely to melancholy here. The author notices what he is missing.
...
I see no
god in the holly, hear no song from
the snowbroken weeds ...
The WSJ book review by Joanna Bourke later reports that Mr. Benatar tells us, "that the universe is 'indifferent to our coming' into this world, it will be 'indifferent to our going.' In fact, the universe does not care, he adds, because 'it has no attitudes at all.'”
Perhaps a sense of melancholy from a denial of God is some spur from the soul to seek God.
Robert
