Lately I have reading up on the Bronze Age Collapse. The evidence for a real collapse is contested by historians, who, while they have a lot of written records to peruse, lack hard archaeological data. One thing is sure though - a number of important kingdoms in the eastern Mediterranean, Asia Minor and Egypt, either rapidly declined or were severely diminished in the 13th Century BC. These states were powerful and sophisticated entities, with advanced agriculture, political structures and economies set up to trade far and wide. They could muster large standing armies, understood the importance of diplomacy and had been extant for centuries.

What afflicted these ancient kingdoms is in the realm of speculation. Likely it is a series of dominoes that, little by little, eroded the economic and political power of each state, leading to a kind of tipping point. All were very hierarchically structured, had command-style economies, potentially unsustainable farming and problematic succession procedures. They were an integral part of an early form of a global economy, which could bring great wealth but also tethered nations together in economic dependency. There is also some evidence that they were assailed by raiders from the sea.

We tend to sniff at the past and think ourselves superior beings, having advanced well beyond these rougher peoples. Yet the Bronze Age Collapse is somewhat of an analogue for the present, one in which something like a pestilence can bring down once vibrant economies and destroy confidence in systems. The close ties between states, once a strength, can rapidly become a millstone. We could do worse than pay attention to the travails of our distant ancestors, people who have been there and done that. If only we would listen.

"Misunderstanding of the present is the inevitable consequence of ignorance of the past."

Marc Bloch, The Historian's Craft, p 43

Marc Bloch, a French historian who died in the Holocaust, was not the first to think that our current dilemmas could be sited in a wilful refusal to pay attention to history. Bloch would have understood only too well that the Nazis who ended his life were manufacturers of a false history that gave expression to the awful present they had created.

At the moment, commentators of all stripes are exercised by the unprecedented nature of Covid 19. Unprecedented is a word that is much in use, but is it true that the coronavirus is a contagion without precedent?

Well, no, of course not. In the last 120 years we have had the Spanish Flu, HIV Aids, Sars and Ebola. In the centuries before we had The Black Death, a scourge that made a number of reappearances, the last as late as the 19th Century in China. History records many others, such as the Justinian and Antonine Plagues during the time of the Roman Empire.

So what is the point of studying the past? Surely this, that if we know about the struggles of those who have lived before, how they felt about lives, their fears, hopes and troubles, we can put our own lives and times in a fuller perspective. Perspective gives us pause for breath and thought, it may even lead to wisdom. At the very least, we will know that the sky is not falling down.

With everything shutting down or about to be shut down, I grabbed my last chance for a swim at Katoomba this morning. Mind you, I was only just in time as the swim centre was scheduled for closing at midday. The outside temperature was a mere 11 degrees, a little cool for March, but the pool was magnificent, the steam rising from the calm, tepid water. It is hard to know when these kinds of facilities might open again. I don't detect a clear logic in the way matters are being handled, as most governments were caught out by the speed of the spread of the virus and are playing catch-up. I hope that I am not still writing about shuttered premises in a years time.

Perhaps this unusual interregnum from the everyday and the business-as-usual will give people the chance to reflect upon what is important in life. The modern economy, propelled by the hubris of capitalism triumphant, has not made folks lives measurably happier. There is more stuff and lots more information - access to resources that my grandparents would have thought unbelievable - and yet....

So much choice but so little meaningful choice. This could be an opportunity to cull the excess. Freed from the trivial and instantaneous, perhaps a little more sceptical of the material, there might be a space for genuine reflection.

Fragments

1

Huge plates of rock,
Shift lightly and laugh at us,
We on top, heap sand
And stone from place to place,
Build foundations where things give.
We set against this ancient clay
Our store of structures,
Thrust, rigid - swinging through
The unstill space.
Glass-sides and girders,
Sky-piercing cement,
Stuff of consequence.
Ah! All is upward
Like unfalling steam.

1989

"A spectre is haunting the land and that spectre is very very silly."

Having read about and witnessed the unedifying antics of some shoppers in recent weeks, I am left with a rather deflated opinion of humans in general. Sure, we are in unusual times - the illusion of certainty has been stripped away by the onset of a new virus. But it is not ebola and it is not the Black Plague on a comeback tour. If you get Covid 19 you will almost certainly get well again. There will be no death carts in the streets.

But here we are, with empty shelves. Today I could not even find a packet of cooking salt. Perhaps folks would rather die another way, all that seasoning being poured into the truckloads of pasta that have walked out the door. I know that anxiety can drive a person to act irrationally. But it is also possible to step back out of your anxiety and ask deeper questions about your thinking and behaviour. Yes, change is possible.

This will pass but the damage is done. Despite the massive improvements to health systems and educational opportunity, despite the many benefits of modern technology, a cross-section of the population is unhealthier in body and mind.

My mother, who lived through the London Blitz of World War 2, told me the story of how one day, she awoke to find the neighbours house destroyed by a bomb. Her father simply said, "June, get on your bike and ride to school."

Which she did. I can only imagine the to-do that would happen today, with tissues (if you could purchase any) at every ten paces. The culture of complaint is embedded. The stoics among us are few.

Having said all this, I am only too well aware of my own frailties, which I contend with on a daily basis. Casting stones is is not unlike disturbing your own reflection in a pool of water with a pebble. So best beware where you cast!

"And you all know security
Is mortals chiefest enemy" (Macbeth, Act 3, Sc.5)

On the train....

Two people are talking about a production of Coriolanus.

Passenger 1: So you saw the RSC production in Stratford 30 years ago?
Passenger 2: Yes. I just happened to be passing through when I saw the poster.
Passenger 1: You were lucky to get a ticket.
Passenger 2: Probably yes, but it was a matinee. Still it was packed.
Passenger 1: Do you remember the actor who played Coriolanus?
Passenger 2: Coriolanus? Hmmm..

(Passenger 3 in the seat in front turns and interrupts)

Passenger 3: Can't you people stop talking about this bloody virus?
Passenger 1: We aren't talking about a virus.
Passenger 3: I heard you talking about the coronavirus.
Passenger 2: We are talking about a play called Coriolanus. It is not even close.
Passenger 3: I know what I heard.
Passenger 1: Oh, that's right. It's an early, lesser-known play by Shakespeare - The Tragedy of Coronavirus.
Passenger 2: But it's only in four acts, right?
Passenger 3: What are you talking about?
Passenger 1: Everyone is dead by Act 5!

(Confused and muttering darkly to himself, passenger 3 turns back around)

Passenger 2: Remarkably prescient of The Bard, don't you think?



Oh, the times we live in!

I don't play many games online. I enjoy Scrabble and other word games, but not the kind where you shoot folks up. Back in the days of Windows 95 when I first connected to the internet, I was given a couple of games on CD-ROM which could be loaded onto the PC. One of them was Doom, a game which drew me in initially but in a way that I didn't like. So much for that, I thought.

But I do occasionally play arcade style games and my favourite over the past 12 months has been Cookie Cats Pop. There is a lot of good hand-eye stuff happening and I don't get drawn in or scared silly. It is just a pleasant distraction though I can get a little competitive with myself. Most recently I topped a sub-tournament and took a screenshot of the final results.

Take that whipper-snappers!

The March Osaka Grand Sumo Tournament opened this evening without an audience, a victim of Covid 19. Watching live from Australia, it was one of the strangest contests I have ever witnessed. Stripped of the cheering, stamping, clapping and general hoopla that is a feature of a sumo basho, the bouts proceeded as if a prelude to a funeral procession was in progress. Rikishi looked nonplussed, as well they might, since the atmosphere was pin-dropping, though for all the wrong reasons. The buildup to each bout, usually full of bluster and ritual, was far more subdued.

Should any of rikishi test positive for the virus during the course of this basho, then it will be immediately cancelled. Strange days indeed!

These two details from Pieter Bruegel the Elder's The Triumph of Death (1562) illustrate graphically the manner in which the late Middle Ages viewed the subject of mortality. Death, whose analogue in this painting is an army of homicidal skeletons, was an everyday occurrence and people lived constantly in its midst. Infant mortality was high, plagues had the capacity to reduce whole populations by a half, folks lived shorter lives in relative poverty. It was also a very religious time, so death was situated within a more symbolic framework of reward and punishment, though as for that, everyone passed through it. There was no avoiding crossing the river.

I raise this cheery topic because the times we live in put me in mind of the medieval zeitgeist. If there was a Bruegel around today, I wonder what he might paint or create? How would he respond to the apparent signs of doom that some would argue are all about - the potential for annihilation, the pandemics and imminent climate threats? What would he make of the panic-buying of toilet roll during a virus scare? How about social media? The ghastly list goes on.

I think, on balance, he would opt for more skeletons on a murderous rampage.

I don't often sit through a half a dozen hours on one TV station, in fact it is very rare. But today I tuned into CNN and watched the results of the Super Tuesday election in the United States. They came in gradually and in between were vast gobs of political punditry, some of which was very good, though much was very repetitive. I guess that there is a limit on the quantity of original analysis that can be posited when the coverage is so fluid.

Anyway, I got my fix and was pleased to see Joe Biden do so well. It is a strange contest when the front-runners are men in their seventies who are vying for the right to challenge in a later contest with another man who is also in his seventies. The last-mentioned fellow shall remain nameless but you will know him from his nuclear-orange tan and many, many tweets.

It was because of his election and subsequent behaviour that I gave up listening to my regular weekly selection of politics podcasts about two years ago. I have only just gained the confidence to start listening again. American politics is very interesting and a reasonable surrogate for my occasional disengagement with the local political scene. The latter is just too depressing most of the time, hence my vicarious excursions into the American Big Top.

If ever there was a time for considered, clear thinking, it is now. With a number of short and long term emergencies in our midst, the human race and the planet are in need of people who can step up and lead. There are a groundswell of folks now doing a lot, but not enough of them in key positions of political power to change the dynamic. As long as huge economies like the United States, China and India remain outside the fold (for whatever reason) and nations like Australia act like simpering lapdogs, then too little will get done to ensure a reasonable future for generations to come.

This is compounded by the fact that we live in an era of confusion about authority and truth. I have written before that the internet has spawned a culture in which everyone is an expert with opinions that are of equal value. This sounds democratic and inclusive but really it's not. People become experts through hard work and years of study and practice, not by merely switching on their computer and typing in an opinion. I can't see how this will change anytime soon, because there seems to be a sufficient mass of the ignorant and the cynical to cause mayhem on a wide scale.

In his sonnet, To a Friend, Matthew Arnold wrote about the playwright Sophocles, "Who saw life steadily and saw it whole". This is my wish for the planet, for the dominant species who have it in their power to soar, or blow the place up. It is a call to be present now, and to be open to the wider picture, a deeper view of life, of what matters most.