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Regarding the collapse of the modern age, what I understand by "modernism" is a project to write new scripts, to no longer be bound by old social scripts or contexts.

So modernists like Joyce or Eliot created new creation myths like Ulysses or The Waste Land. Fitzgerald in America created Gatsby—he personalized the new myth of the self-made man, the modern man.

So when we think about the end of the modern age, this is the direction my mind turns. If modernism was a project to write new scripts, then the end of modernity presumably means a return to older scripts. Like Dante.

But if we assume as a premise that society and history are a social artifact that we create, then a return to older scripts risks humanizing or mythologizing the social reality we currently inhabit, this is called by the philosophers right-wing Hegelianism.

This isn't an exclusively modern problem, Confucianism for example was largely concerned with the problem of ritual and stereotyped roles that deprive us of our vitality and our capacity to write new scripts, new ways of being in the world.

So the "end of an intellectual age" as you call it seems to me to be a crisis of vitality. Robin Lane Fox the great historian wrote a book called Pagans and Christians about the disappearance of paganism. Men gradually no longer called on the old gods, and that's how paganism disappeared into the twilight.

As a writer I'm in favor of a recovery of meaning through literary tradition. Sure someone could rewrite the Inferno as a modern story. That would be a very modernist thing to do.

But we can also go back to Dante or other old scripts so long as we keep in mind the end goal. We want to empower ourselves to write new scripts in the present.

If we're at the end of the modern age, then modernism itself is part of history now. We can learn from its revisionary project but we don't have to adopt the modernists' absolute devotion to newness. The recovery of history is always a recovery of possibilities.

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Hi Jason, this is such a rich and thought-provoking comment, I think I'd really have to write a stand alone article to respond sufficiently to the points you make. I just may do that. In the meantime, here are my initial responses:

- When I speak of modernism or modernity, I'm using the term to refer to a specific historical age defined by a convergence of values and ideas centering on individualism, skepticism, egalitarianism, objectivism, scientism, progressivism, structuralism etc. In this historical view, Marxism represents its high water mark. (Note: I'm not a Marxist.)

- I'm not at all opposed to considering your use of the term "modern" in a particularly literary sense. I like the examples you provided and I promise to think about them as you described. I'm sure I have something to learn here.

- My reference to "the end of an intellectual age" is offered in two senses:

1) Historically, philosophical modes of thinking tend to last about 500 years (as a gross simplification). By my reckoning, modernity was getting underway in the 16th century, which puts the 21st century at the end of that age.

2) Scientifically, the great modern value of Cartesian objectivism (mind-body dualism, skepticism, the artificial separation of knower and known, etc.) has fundamentally collapsed, accelerated by 20th century discoveries of quantum physics, trends in understanding consciousness, the importance of the observer etc.

- I'm intrigued by your suggestion of empowering ourselves to "write new scripts in the present." I agree that the solution is not to just try to retrieve the past in an antiquarian move. Rather than re-inventing scripts, however, I prefer to think of our creative responsibility as grounded in a continuum, meaning that what we create today should flow from the traditions of the past--inasmuch as intelligent and (mostly) well-meaning people came up with the best ideas that served their time, and it's our duty to at least consider what is enduring and what is still useful from those ideas in our own time.

Thanks for the great conversation!

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Happy memories of discovering Inferno, which I read as a college junior - one way to avoid the work for a particularly boring economics course!

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I wish I had discovered Dante in college, but I guess we find him when we most need it.

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Welcome back, Amy. Let us soldier on then, with all alacrity and reverence. Godspeed.

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Thanks Truman! Your encouragement has been key. 😊

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oh yeah! Count me in. Love Dante’s humor and poetry. Are you a Johnny by any chance? St. Johns College?

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Hi Sally, no I’m not although I once looked into their Masters program when I lived and worked in Washington DC. Couldn’t swing it with my work schedule so I opted instead for the Great Books program at Faulkner University. How about you?

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Yes. Looking forward to it

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Thanks Rodney! Glad to have you along.

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Okay but now what? Stay tuned and check back here? I feel myself wanting homework for some reason. Excited to hear more and hope you have a nice Thanksgiving.

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Oh goodness, you’re absolutely right! “What’s next”, haha. Yes, I’ll drop more posts and recommended reading soon. Probably at a weekly pace. Thanks!

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Great to see you back on substack!

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I sense conservative Catholicism. Yuck. Bye.

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Is the recovery of meaning a conservative move, or a merely human one? Thank you for checking us out anyway and I wish you happy reading wherever you find it. :)

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