Filed under: "The Chimney Sweeper", Horatio Alger, Industrial revolution, William Blake, child labor
As I read William Blake’s poem, “The Chimney Sweeper,” an obvious commentary on the social injustices and child labor in England at the beginning of the 19th century, I was struck by how the poem conveyed the innocence and optimism of children through its simple verses. Although the children are miserable, living and working in inhumane conditions, they idealistically look toward a brighter future in the next life “with God as their father.”
The last line of the poem, “So if all do their duty they need not fear harm” seemed very different from the rest of the poem. While the other parts of the poem describe children whose pleasure (or lack thereof) was determined by the adults surrounding them, this line suggests that the children hold the key to their own destiny; if they do “their duty,” they will eventually be rewarded with happiness. The last line, therefore, would seem to encourage the child worker’s dutiful service to the adults exploiting them. 
This made me think of the rags to riches stories of Horatio Alger in 19th century America. These books, including the Ragged Dick and Tattered Tom series, suggested that through hard work, determination, and a little bit of luck, anyone could achieve the American Dream. This fueled workers’ attitudes and led to their compliant work in horrible working conditions, even though the promise of a better life was rarely achieved. Likewise, because the vision in Blake’s poem suggests that happiness awaits the young chimney sweepers who are loyal and hard-working, the young boys accept their miserable fate, and strive to do their duty. Inasmuch, it seems to me that both the Alger stories and the Blake poem can be read as propaganda.
Last Sunday morning when I turned on the French news, I was sad to learn that Abbé Pierre, the beloved French priest and founder of the Emmaus homeless charity, had died the age of 94. Although he was not well-known on this side of the Atlantic—due probably to the fact that he did not speak English—Abbé Pierre was extremely admired in France; he was consistently voted the most popular Frenchman in national newspaper and television polls until 2003, at which time he fell to second place only behind footballer Zinedine Zidane. Needless to say, all of France is mourning his loss.
I could go on and on about Abbé Pierre’s celebrity, make a laundry list of his charitable good deeds, or list his numerous accolades and awards. But I won’t. (To read more about his remarkable life, click here.) Suffice it to say that above all, he was an advocate for the poor, for the homeless, for those who suffer. (Even so, his life was not without controversy. In 1996 he supported his friend Roger Garaundy, an author who questioned the existence of the Holocaust. He later apologized and never lost face with the French public.) He also repeatedly challenged the values of his Catholic Church and thus had a tumultuous relationship with the Vatican. He called for the marriage of priests, the ordination of women, and the use of contraception to combat the AIDS epidemic. He never sought popularity within the church, but beyond the church, with the people. His goal was to advance the cause of the poor, not of the Church.
If you’re still with me at this point, you’re probably wondering, “Why the description of Abbé Pierre?” Answer: because on the French Wikipedia page on Humanism, on several French news programs this weekend, and in several news articles, Abbé Pierre was referred to as a humanist, and I couldn’t help but wonder if this was an accurate description. Was he a humanist, or a humanitarian, or both?
On one hand, he definitely advocated the dignified treatment of all human beings—especially the most marginalized—and pushed for social reforms for the poor and homeless, which would qualify him as a humanitarian. In regards to humanism, can we say that Abbé Pierre was interested in man’s role in a world God created? Yes. But can we say that he was more interested in what humans can do than what God wants, another facet of humanism? Can we really know who was at the center of Abbé Pierre’s worldview? On one hand, it could have been man, which would make him a humanist. His works would certainly support this stance. But then again, his work on behalf of humanity could also be a byproduct of his religious beliefs; he just as easily could have had a worldview with God at the center. In order to know for sure, we would need to know what he considered to be motivation. I need to do more research on this to find out if he left us any clues in his writings or interviews. (If you know of any, let me know.) Even so, can we ever define someone’s motivation as coming 100% from one thing or another? I’m not sure that we can.
Admittedly, I am still trying to sort all these “-isms” out. But I think that the example of Abbé Pierre shows how “-isms” like humanism do not fit neatly into a box, as much as I sometimes would like them to. They are complex, multifarious, and often hard to define. And I am learning to accept that this is the nature of the beast.
