Philosophical Woodcutters Wanted It appears from the comments above that most of you don't think it's winter. If it's "summer down there," please, eat, drink, be merry. You obviously have better places to be.
I'm 51, a classics professor and counselor for many years, training to become a Jewish chaplain. I have seen countless clients end their worlds in many ways, and have come to the end of my own. In my admittedly limited read of classics for the last 30 years, I have seen many sing songs of ending. A third of the Old Testament consists of warnings and hope. Odysseus and Aeneas both, though commissioned and favored by the gods - for most, including their crews and companions and hosts, were harbingers of doom. Dante, while guiding his readers onward, understood that the way to Paradise was through the basement of Hell. This is why I'm writing.
For some of you, talk of the end seems childish. And so it should - as St. Exupery knew, often it takes a child to see and state the obvious. In modern times, most adults have learned not to talk about the obvious, although they re-enact the fall of the culture in countless personal ways. If it seems childish and not worth your time, you can move along. No one is keeping you here.
Even for those who might think our ad infinitum progress has essentially ended "the end of the world," and that apocolyptic is a paleolithic perspective, life stage, or psychological syndrome, you may want to ask why apocalyptic visions have been so carefully preserved for millennia, presumably by those who found them valuable. If you don't find them necessary, as I said, you are invited to steer by other stars and sail on. In the words of L. Cohen, "You wouldn't like it here. There ain't no entertainment, and the judgments are severe."
Perhaps you'll remember you had this chance to talk it out when the death tolls rise and rise, but then again, probably not. For those of you who've read Jenkinson, you know most fight the reality of death until their last breath, perhaps because - like you said, Mad Fool, they've been dying for a long time, and maintaining appearances is all they have left.
For those who *are* here, who don't see Winter as nihilism or the end of the world as a psychological disorder, have a seat. The modes of cultural winter are different, and that matters. Most are still thinking summer, planting seed corn in snowbanks, apparently thinking snow is just the new dirt. Up here in Maine, we know how to prep for winter - but prepping for the "big winter", since it's beyond living memory, takes some doing. The forest is not a big park, and the ocean is not a big lake. They are deeply different. And the hour is late.
In physical winter, food and heat, and light, matter, a lot. In civilizational winter, it's choice, and hope, and enduring meaning - among other things - that matter, a lot. So, collecting wisdom that we can hold on to in desperate times, that's what I was hoping to find a few folks for.
We're in the early weeks when we are letting our search algorithms keep us from troublesome truths. I imagine when civilizational winter really hits, people will get serious and start burning books, and perhaps, people. It's happened every century - with the last one being the worst yet. In the meantime, let's share them - both books, and people. What writers have you found that have kept you going, and you believe might help others?