IMAGINE Putting John Lennon's Fantasy Through The Scrutiny of High Schoolers, German Philosophy |
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| Written by Kris Millett |
| Wednesday, 30 April 2008 19:00 |
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It’s hard to picture a better known and more universally appreciated song than John Lennon’s “Imagine.” It has practically achieved hymn status worldwide, and serves as a sort of alternative national anthem in many countries. The lyrics to “Imagine” have been a source of inspiration to countless individuals and oppressed groups, and it has been sung by everyone from Dolly Parton to Bill Clinton. It’s also hard to picture a more confounding thing being appreciated I have never understood how a song with such anti-religious, anti-capitalist lyrical content, could be embraced by people that openly embody its antithesis. I’d wager that “Imagine” is even on George Bush’s ipod playlist right now, alongside CCR’s “Fortunate Son.” One time, when I was in teachers' college and in need of a lesson idea, I decided to let a Grade 11 English class launch an investigation into the lyrics to “Imagine.” The students identified positively with some lines, such as imagining “all the people/Living for today." Imagining "no Hell below us" sounded good to them too. But partway through the group presentations, it became clear that many in the class had serious misgivings with John Lennon's dream world, raising the point in particular where the ex-Beatle asks us to imagine a world where there's "nothing to kill or die for." My students found this to be a disturbing prospect, presenting in that head down, reading-directly-from-the-notes style: “Having nothing to kill or die for might mean there’s nothing worthwhile in the world… having no reason to live.” Flabbergasted at how well my shot-in-the-dark lesson was going, I excitedly pointed out to the class that without knowing, they had struck upon the focal point of the work of 19th century German philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche. (Did I graduate from teachers college...? We’ll get back to that).
This zest for existence, and unwillingness to sacrifice the quality of it, led Nietzsche and Lennon to shared misgivings over Christianity. This disapproval of Christianity, however, came from opposing philosophies on human nature, namely, the position on whether having “nothing to kill or die for” is a good or bad thing. From this schism, we can trace the difference between how John Lennon thought life ought to be lived, as compared to my group of unknowingly Neitzschan Grade 11’ers, and we can figure out where to place ourselves in the spectrum. John Lennon asked listeners to “imagine no religion,” clearly Nietzsche’s philosophy quested for something valid to kill and die for. To him, Christianity vulgarized human morality by its treatment of weakness as a virtue. He was also concerned with the religion’s decline in Europe, and subsequent misplaced faith in Science and Reason; products from the Age of Enlightenment. He was worried about the specter of Nihilism lurking in the void, and to counter this, Nietzsche turned to the Pagans. He hailed the Greek warrior Dionysus, God of wine, ecstasy, and intoxication, harbinger of creation and destruction. With it came an anti-liberal, anti-humanist, sense of virtue wrapped in the beauty and necessity of change, tragedy and destruction. He accepted G.W. Hegel’s doctrine that human history is based on tragedy, as the engine is fed by “genuine clashes of legitimately opposing principles.” From Nietzsche’s viewpoint that change, or progress, as some might say, was only possible through violence and tragedy, it is clear that the utopia presented in “Imagine” would have been his precise dystopia. A peaceful society, where there is “nothing to kill or die for,” could not provide the necessary conditions for human betterment. Peace may offer the elimination of suffering, but Nietzsche said: “joy and suffering are inseparable.” Lennon’s ideal society would also lack any conditions conducive to What would you chose? Universal, homogeneous peace or high art? Would you rather live in a world of stability, equality and comfort, where real tragedy is unknown, history is trivia, and art indistinguishable from pop-culture? (No Ottawans, you don’t live there yet!) Or, would you prefer to live in a world with immense suffering, occasional bursts of ecstatic joy, and contributions from individuals like Tolstoy and Shakespeare to share, celebrate and lament the condition (or for that matter, the work of a figure such as John Lennon)? For one morning during my student-teaching placement, I was glad to have the latter. “Imagine” is a GREAT song. You must admit that you have stumbled upon excellence if it manages to launch a group of sexually frustrated 16 year-old Australian kids, cooped up in a non-ventilated room, into existential analysis for 60 minutes. I’ve certainly had worse lessons. © 2008 Kris Millet; licensee (Cult)ure Magazine.
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by a mass audience. It is even more confounding than the popularity of Soviet Union T-shirts with rich kids. Starting with the audacious opening line, “imagine there’s no heaven,” the song serves as a textbook, outlining point-by-point the Lennonist Manifesto for a better world. Of Lennon’s list of fantasies imparted in the song, he asks us to imagine no "possessions," or "countries," and "no religion too."
Friedrich Nietzsche, like Lennon, had his work censored, and both led lifestyles that were widely considered to be subversive. Their shared value of “living for today” was evident in Lennon’s post-Beatles, peace activism career - during which he vowed to stay in bed until “war was over” - and when he renounced his appointment to the British Empire. Nietzsche put the mantra into practice by roaming the streets, threatening random people, asking them if “they’ve been to Church today,” and causing public disturbances in the streets of Turin, once throwing his arms around a horse about to be whipped. Nietzsche would eventually renounce his German citizenship, rendering him “stateless” for the remainder of his life.
believing this to be a good thing. To him, peace was the most important tool to unlock humanity’s potential, and he decried Christianity’s role as a catalyst for violence and suffering. To gain peace, he was also willing to sacrifice countries, possessions, and any other obstacles that might give people bogus motives to kill or die.
human greatness. Pop-culture essayist Paul Cantor speculates that without tragedy, the potential for heroism is eliminated, and with it, perhaps any motive for greatness. He says, “we are left with the feeling of a diminished world.” Without tragedy, we lose the backbone for the creation of art.
