Art and Futility

“All art is quite useless,” someone in an oversized Stetson hat once whispered to me on the bus. Surprised, I hit the brakes and looked around, but the mysterious figure had gone. The effects of this encounter are twofold. Firstly, I was fired from my position as bus driver, and secondly, I began contemplating the nature of art and asking the all important question: “why?”

Does art serve a purpose? Or is it simply a way for us to shout our feelings into the uncaring void?

Station Eleven’s Traveling Symphony seems just as uncertain on this topic as you or I, or the figure in the Stetson hat. The fourth section of the book begins: “Sometimes the Traveling Symphony thought that what they were doing was noble [...] At other times it seemed a difficult and dangerous way to survive and hardly worth it,” [p119]. Their uncertainty is perplexing: why would they choose a difficult nomadic life if their purpose had no guaranteed value?

The book answers this simply: “Because survival is insufficient,” [p119].

In a discussion I recently had, during which I kept a watchful eye out for bus-disruptive personages in large hats, we found ourselves divided on this topic as well. There are two sides on which we found ourselves:

• Survival first, all else is a luxury.

• What is humanity without creativity?

There are valid arguments for both sides, so let us begin with the first. In a post-apocalyptic dystopia, survival is the first priority. It is impossible to enjoy life if you have starved or otherwise perished. Sure, should you have the time, you could enjoy a brief distraction from the suffering and misery of the apocalypse, but leisure cannot be a priority.

And now the other hand. Is life worth living if we do not indulge ourselves in art and other creative outlets? If we revert to a purely survivalist mentality, we become no better than animals. Civilization is built upon innovation and culture, not merely getting by. And, as always, “survival is insufficient”.

Unlike many of its contemporaries, Station Eleven lands squarely in the second camp. While the struggle for survival is a common theme in post-apocalyptic literature, the struggle for something more is not. But is that outlook on humanity too hopeful?

In an article I read approximately ten minutes ago, it was argued that art is a reaction to life. This seems as good an explanation as any for its existence and one that I find particularly genuine. Pablo Picasso painted his interpretation of the world around him and proved to the public that he really needed a better pair of glasses. John McCrae described the strange, sad beauty that he found in a war-torn field. I write annoyingly Socratic blog posts in response to the many things I’ve seen and heard. As is carved into a tree by 42nd and Somerset, “Art imitates life,”

Applying this philosophy to Station Eleven is interesting. The Traveling Symphony’s reaction to the collapse of life as they knew it is to create art. Think of it as a discussion: the world says “apocalypse” and the members of The Symphony respond by playing music and Shakespeare. Others might respond differently to the world - such as become a doctor, or a museum curator, or a religious leader. However, these select few react with art.

But let us return to the two questions at hand - are they doing any good and is it a realistic response to the collapse?

First of all, despite not producing anything of value, I would argue that they are doing some small measure of good. They are reminding people that life isn’t merely an endless series of struggles and frustrations and are preserving “what was best about the world” [p38]. It may not be as helpful as other functions they might serve, but they are instrumental (mind the pun) in rebuilding the pre-collapse society (whether or not that should be the goal is another blog post entirely).

And secondly, I don’t believe that a bit of humanity is too much to hope for. Take, for example, World War One’s famous Christmas Truce, in which troops on both sides declared peace and played a friendly match of soccer. Even amidst violence, bloodshed, and chaos, humans do not cease to be human. In the words of Emily St. John Mandel herself, “mayhem is not a terribly sustainable way of life” (source).

In the end, it all boils down to humanity. We cannot forget we are animals, who, by nature, will fight to keep our fragile grasp on life. But we are also humans, defined by our ability to crave more than simple, insufficient survival.

- A.M. Ham