Ignorance and evil are commonplace. How many know much else about Hannah Arendt but for her succinct comment on “the banality of evil?” Evil, banal or otherwise, simple in its brutality or complex in its machinations, surrounds us now, a foul vapor that chokes the spirit. What is the role of a citiizen? How are we to respond?
The real damage is done by those millions who want to 'survive.'The honest men who just want to be left in peace. Those who don’t want their little lives disturbed by anything bigger than themselves. Those with no sides and no causes. Those who won’t take measure of their own strength, for fear of antagonizing their own weakness. Those who don’t like to make waves—or enemies. Those for whom freedom, honor, truth, and principles are only literature.
Out in the open darkness descends with crushing weight. A light flickers in what looks to be a house. Best to find comfort from the chill and the dark and silence. Find it in that small house, with a small light.
Those who live small, mate small, die small. It’s the reductionist approach to life: if you keep it small, you’ll keep it under control. If you don’t make any noise, the bogeyman won’t find you.
Ours is an anonymous age. If there is a problem, let someone else deal. Nuance unneeded, details dispatched, death, destruction, and destiny await only others or those who deserve their fate. Don’t people only get what they deserve?
But it’s all an illusion, because they die too, those people who roll up their spirits into tiny little balls so as to be safe. Safe?! From what?
I am searching now for one uppity woman. Yes. Needed now: one uppity woman. An uppity woman would confront these dragons, fight them all with a more fierce flame, send them all flameless back to their caves. I am searching now for my own Sophie Scholl.
Life is always on the edge of death; narrow streets lead to the same place as wide avenues, and a little candle burns itself out just like a flaming torch does. I choose my own way to burn.
I have found my Sophie Scholl, but only in the pages of history. From those pages yet she speaks to me. . She is the white rose undying, even in defeat undaunted. The wisdom of a spirit withers not nor wilts.
And Sophie would look at me and say: What you would find in me you must instead find in yourself.
A brief not before continuing.
All entries by The Heretik on Uppity Women were inspired by a piece by : James Wolcott.
Additional entries on Uppity Women can be found here and here (a shorter appreciation of Sophie Scholl, her brother and a friend). This piece incorporates some of the shorter appreciation.
Thanks to my friend Bad Tux for continuing the story and from whom I found Sophie's quote above. Bad Tux is a very Snarky Penguin. Visit him on his ice floe.
Thanks to Bruderhof as source of quote and white rose pic.
But back to Sophie.
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