로렌스의 시와 망각의 주제 (D. H. Lawrence’s Poems and the Theme of Oblivion)

서지정보

· 발행기관 : 한국로렌스학회
· 수록지 정보 : D.H. 로렌스 연구 / 17권 / 1호 / 25 ~ 50페이지
· 저자명 : 강필중

초록

This essay is a thinking aroused by D. H. Lawrence’s poems, “The Ship of Death” especially, a thinking that ventures into the theme of oblivion, rigorously disclosing the groundlessness of the idea that oblivion is obliteration. One way of this thinking phrasing itself is to say that oblivion is the obliteration of the idea itself. The idea presupposes substantially whatever we know about ourselves, what we know as ourselves, which then is supposed to be obliterated, or nullified, through death and oblivion. That this presupposition and supposition is groundless is a great lesson Lawrence's poems bring home to us, for when we are purely ourselves, any knowledge of ours of ourselves is like a fallen leaf cut out of the tree of life. Our fear of death and oblivion is the work of an uprooted idea rooting itself deep into our minds.
One idea fixed in our minds is the idea that death is outside us. We usually say, without thinking, that we are dying. We are not dying in the sense that we are heading toward death outside us. Rather, we are dying in the sense that we are living and dying at the same time, partially dying and forgetting as if we were preparing for the consummation of ourselves through death and oblivion. Sometimes, even for one moment, we forget ourselves like a flower. An instant is enough, however, for us to lapse into self-consciousness. Self-consciousness and mental self-images it produces are already in the continual process of being forgotten, so whatever is supposed to be obliterated through oblivion is in no way secure. Whatever it is, it is not rooted in our being, in our being purely ourselves. Oblivion purifies our being of ideal impurities of whatever kind.
It is not death only that we do not know. We do not know life itself, and we do not know ourselves. The only difference is that we know about life, while we don’t know about death. Knowledge about life is information and we have no information about death. Lawrence leads us to the way of oblivion to do without information. Unknown and unknowable, death and oblivion is our way of being ourselves. Insofar as our will to know persists, death is objectified in our minds as ‘the unknown and unknowable,’ as an impurity. Frustration caused by the failure to know is an impurity too. Frustration drives us to our last escape. One of the rigors we need is that with which we see into the emptiness of the presumed fact that we simply are, because that is the stronghold we blindly hold to in the face of death outside. Like an empty bowl with no food in it, the very fact gives its holder nothing but pale obstinacy. A pathetic abstraction it is.
Oblivion is change. And only the oblivion of man is change. A flower is purely itself embodying oblivion, and change, if any, is always and already done in its being itself. Change through the voyage of oblivion awaits man. Man that enters the unknown enters it as the unknown. We cannot tell one from the other, so ‘the ship of death’ is seen nowhere on her voyage. A thinking of ‘the ship of death’ is an adventure because as all that we know we are, namely ‘the old self,’ is forgotten, there remains nothing left for us but the unknown itself, which is beyond all description. In a sense, however, the voyage is safe. All put in the name of ‘the old’ is, in its very nature, the kind that is washed away as is experienced intermittently in the process of our lives. The old self is the one that perishes. Delusion persists, and perishes. Hence ‘faith’ remains. The faith in ‘the ark of faith’ is not fear-begotten. We are with God when we are purely ourselves, having left off knowing, Lawrence says. Seen nowhere, the ship is somewhere. As for the work of renewal, faith does the rest, as the last two sections of “The Ship of Death” envision it beautifully.

영어초록

This essay is a thinking aroused by D. H. Lawrence’s poems, “The Ship of Death” especially, a thinking that ventures into the theme of oblivion, rigorously disclosing the groundlessness of the idea that oblivion is obliteration. One way of this thinking phrasing itself is to say that oblivion is the obliteration of the idea itself. The idea presupposes substantially whatever we know about ourselves, what we know as ourselves, which then is supposed to be obliterated, or nullified, through death and oblivion. That this presupposition and supposition is groundless is a great lesson Lawrence's poems bring home to us, for when we are purely ourselves, any knowledge of ours of ourselves is like a fallen leaf cut out of the tree of life. Our fear of death and oblivion is the work of an uprooted idea rooting itself deep into our minds.
One idea fixed in our minds is the idea that death is outside us. We usually say, without thinking, that we are dying. We are not dying in the sense that we are heading toward death outside us. Rather, we are dying in the sense that we are living and dying at the same time, partially dying and forgetting as if we were preparing for the consummation of ourselves through death and oblivion. Sometimes, even for one moment, we forget ourselves like a flower. An instant is enough, however, for us to lapse into self-consciousness. Self-consciousness and mental self-images it produces are already in the continual process of being forgotten, so whatever is supposed to be obliterated through oblivion is in no way secure. Whatever it is, it is not rooted in our being, in our being purely ourselves. Oblivion purifies our being of ideal impurities of whatever kind.
It is not death only that we do not know. We do not know life itself, and we do not know ourselves. The only difference is that we know about life, while we don’t know about death. Knowledge about life is information and we have no information about death. Lawrence leads us to the way of oblivion to do without information. Unknown and unknowable, death and oblivion is our way of being ourselves. Insofar as our will to know persists, death is objectified in our minds as ‘the unknown and unknowable,’ as an impurity. Frustration caused by the failure to know is an impurity too. Frustration drives us to our last escape. One of the rigors we need is that with which we see into the emptiness of the presumed fact that we simply are, because that is the stronghold we blindly hold to in the face of death outside. Like an empty bowl with no food in it, the very fact gives its holder nothing but pale obstinacy. A pathetic abstraction it is.
Oblivion is change. And only the oblivion of man is change. A flower is purely itself embodying oblivion, and change, if any, is always and already done in its being itself. Change through the voyage of oblivion awaits man. Man that enters the unknown enters it as the unknown. We cannot tell one from the other, so ‘the ship of death’ is seen nowhere on her voyage. A thinking of ‘the ship of death’ is an adventure because as all that we know we are, namely ‘the old self,’ is forgotten, there remains nothing left for us but the unknown itself, which is beyond all description. In a sense, however, the voyage is safe. All put in the name of ‘the old’ is, in its very nature, the kind that is washed away as is experienced intermittently in the process of our lives. The old self is the one that perishes. Delusion persists, and perishes. Hence ‘faith’ remains. The faith in ‘the ark of faith’ is not fear-begotten. We are with God when we are purely ourselves, having left off knowing, Lawrence says. Seen nowhere, the ship is somewhere. As for the work of renewal, faith does the rest, as the last two sections of “The Ship of Death” envision it beautifully.

참고자료

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