Click to play: I’m Scared by John Lennon Download: ?media_id=1EB72DFF105641FC99F52324E3AEA605&sitename=b12325794706179301
“Let me assert my firm belief that the only thing we have to fear is fear itself—nameless, unreasoning, unjustified terror which paralyzes needed efforts to convert retreat into advance”
Franklin D. Roosevelt
Like Roosevelt’s inaugural address, the texts we have read for today have a common theme–we fear the unknown. We fear being alone.
William Blake conflicted me with his Songs of Innocence. They remind me so much of Sunday school–we are lost lambs, and God is our shepherd. We must not be led astray, or else we’ll find ourselves in the fiery pits of hell. But following the herd, staying in the crowd, is something I have learned to resist:
From About a Boy
Like the mother tells her son, be you. Make sure to stay true to yourself, although that is a scary thing to do. It takes courage to stay true to yourself when you are surrounded by those that disapprove.
Blake’s story about the lost Lyca caught my attention. Here, we have a girl who is lost–wandering into the unknown desert, “Sweet sleep, come to me,/ Underneath this tree;/ Do father, mother, weep?/ Where can Lyca sleep?” (355). She is so frighten, so alone, that she does not want to sleep. Understandably, she is afraid of what might happen to her in the desert as she vulnerably sleeps. When finally, she does close her eyes, lions, tigers, and leopards appear. Rather than attacking, they take her safely away to their cave.
In “The Little Girl Found,” we see the parent’s fears, “Seven nights they sleep/ Among shadows deep,/ And dream they see their child/ Starved in desert wild” (356). This fear, I have witnessed for myself. When my sister Elizabeth and I were little–my sister four and I was six–my family went to Waterworld for vacation. The park was crowded because of a Beach Boys concert, and my parents did not notice when Elizabeth slipped away and into a water slide by herself. My parents went absolutely nuts.
They were screaming and yelling, telling every person that they could find that a blonde girl in a watermelon swimsuit was missing. Soon, we had everyone in the vicinity trying to find her. When people would bring back the wrong child, my mom’s vocabulary turned to one that I did not recognize at my tender young age. She was absolutely livid and distraught. We were all crying, fearing the worst had happened.
Within the half hour, she was found. Giggling and completely oblivious to the entire situation. There was such a great sigh of relief when she was finally found.
In Blake’s poem, what humans naturally and normally fear–lions, wolves, tigers–were Lyca’s saviors. It forces us to reconsider what it means to be scared, why we are scared, and should we be scared.
This point is also covered in Harrigan’s stories. Is it natural to fear animals?
“It had to do with the realization of a fear built deep into our genetic code: the fear that a beast could appear out of nowhere–through a window!–and snatch us away” (362). I have this fear of windows. A fear of windows ever since I was very little. I’m always afraid something–or someone–is watching me. My mom, also, has this fear of windows, and she calls me every night to make sure I’ve closed my curtains. A fear of being watched, especially unknowingly, is something horror movies tend to play on.
This also, I think, has a connection with eyes, “When the great head pivoted in my direction and Miguel’s eyes met mine I looked away reflexively, afraid of their hypnotic gravity” (366). As Derrida explains, “…in silence by the by the gaze of an animal, for example the eyes of a cat, I have trouble, yes, a bad time overcoming my embarrassment [or shame]…” (217). And I also quoted the passage in an earlier blog (Sound of Silence) about Mowgli’s ability to stare at animals, but they are unable to hold his gaze. Like Harrigan, are the Jungle Book animals afraid to look at their potential death in the eyes?
Harrigan is a much braver man than myself. If a tiger had just previously killed a person, I would not have gone near his cage. Especially when Miguel pounces against the cage and shows his, “demonstration of the power he possessed” (366). I doubt I could ever be near a tiger again without some uncontrollable panic rising in my throat. Like Lennon’s song, once I’m scared, I’m scarred.
