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63 pages

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British polymath, philosopher and poet G.K. Chesterton takes on capitalism in this wide-ranging collection of essays. Approaching the subject from a moral perspective tinged with Christian ethics, Chesterton presents an array of powerful arguments that are surprisingly fresh, a century after the book's initial publication.

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Publié par	The Floating Press
Date de parution	01 mai 2015
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781776588039
Langue	English

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0134€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

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UTOPIA OF USURERS AND OTHER ESSAYS
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G. K. CHESTERTON

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Utopia of Usurers and Other Essays First published in 1917 Epub ISBN 978-1-77658-803-9 Also available: PDF ISBN 978-1-77658-804-6 © 2014 The Floating Press and its licensors. All rights reserved. While every effort has been used to ensure the accuracy and reliability of the information contained in The Floating Press edition of this book, The Floating Press does not assume liability or responsibility for any errors or omissions in this book. The Floating Press does not accept responsibility for loss suffered as a result of reliance upon the accuracy or currency of information contained in this book. Do not use while operating a motor vehicle or heavy equipment. Many suitcases look alike. Visit www.thefloatingpress.com
Contents
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A Song of Swords Utopia of Usurers The Escape The New Raid The New Name A Workman's History of England The French Revolution and the Irish Liberalism: A Sample The Fatigue of Fleet Street The Amnesty for Aggression Revive the Court Jester The Art of Missing the Point The Servile State Again The Empire of the Ignorant The Symbolism of Krupp The Tower of Bebel A Real Danger The Dregs of Puritanism The Tyranny of Bad Journalism The Poetry of the Revolution
A Song of Swords
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"A drove of cattle came into a village called Swords; and was stopped by the rioters."—Daily Paper.
In the place called Swords on the Irish road It is told for a new renown How we held the horns of the cattle, and how We will hold the horns of the devils now Ere the lord of hell with the horn on his brow Is crowned in Dublin town.
Light in the East and light in the West, And light on the cruel lords, On the souls that suddenly all men knew, And the green flag flew and the red flag flew, And many a wheel of the world stopped, too, When the cattle were stopped at Swords.
Be they sinners or less than saints That smite in the street for rage, We know where the shame shines bright; we know You that they smite at, you their foe, Lords of the lawless wage and low, This is your lawful wage.
You pinched a child to a torture price That you dared not name in words; So black a jest was the silver bit That your own speech shook for the shame of it, And the coward was plain as a cow they hit When the cattle have strayed at Swords.
The wheel of the torrent of wives went round To break men's brotherhood; You gave the good Irish blood to grease The clubs of your country's enemies; you saw the brave man beat to the knees: And you saw that it was good.
The rope of the rich is long and long— The longest of hangmen's cords; But the kings and crowds are holding their breath, In a giant shadow o'er all beneath Where God stands holding the scales of Death Between the cattle and Swords.
Haply the lords that hire and lend The lowest of all men's lords, Who sell their kind like kine at a fair, Will find no head of their cattle there; But faces of men where cattle were: Faces of men—and Swords.
Utopia of Usurers
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I - Art and Advertisement
I propose, subject to the patience of the reader, to devote two orthree articles to prophecy. Like all healthy-minded prophets, sacred andprofane, I can only prophesy when I am in a rage and think things lookugly for everybody. And like all healthy-minded prophets, I prophesy inthe hope that my prophecy may not come true. For the prediction made bythe true soothsayer is like the warning given by a good doctor. And thedoctor has really triumphed when the patient he condemned to death hasrevived to life. The threat is justified at the very moment when it isfalsified. Now I have said again and again (and I shall continue to sayagain and again on all the most inappropriate occasions) that we musthit Capitalism, and hit it hard, for the plain and definite reason thatit is growing stronger. Most of the excuses which serve the capitalistsas masks are, of course, the excuses of hypocrites. They lie when theyclaim philanthropy; they no more feel any particular love of men thanAlbu felt an affection for Chinamen. They lie when they say they havereached their position through their own organising ability. Theygenerally have to pay men to organise the mine, exactly as they paymen to go down it. They often lie about the present wealth, as theygenerally lie about their past poverty. But when they say that theyare going in for a "constructive social policy," they do not lie. Theyreally are going in for a constructive social policy. And we must go infor an equally destructive social policy; and destroy, while it is stillhalf-constructed, the accursed thing which they construct.
The Example of the Arts
Now I propose to take, one after another, certain aspects anddepartments of modern life, and describe what I think they will be likein this paradise of plutocrats, this Utopia of gold and brass in whichthe great story of England seems so likely to end. I propose to say whatI think our new masters, the mere millionaires, will do with certainhuman interests and institutions, such as art, science, jurisprudence,or religion—unless we strike soon enough to prevent them. And for thesake of argument I will take in this article the example of the arts.
Most people have seen a picture called "Bubbles," which is used for theadvertisement of a celebrated soap, a small cake of which is introducedinto the pictorial design. And anybody with an instinct for design (thecaricaturist of the Daily Herald, for instance), will guess that it wasnot originally a part of the design. He will see that the cake of soapdestroys the picture as a picture; as much as if the cake of soap hadbeen used to Scrub off the paint. Small as it is, it breaks and confusesthe whole balance of objects in the composition. I offer no judgmenthere upon Millais's action in the matter; in fact, I do not know whatit was. The important point for me at the moment is that the picturewas not painted for the soap, but the soap added to the picture. Andthe spirit of the corrupting change which has separated us from thatVictorian epoch can be best seen in this: that the Victorian atmosphere,with all its faults, did not permit such a style of patronage to pass asa matter of course. Michael Angelo may have been proud to have helped anemperor or a pope; though, indeed, I think he was prouder than theywere on his own account. I do not believe Sir John Millais was proud ofhaving helped a soap-boiler. I do not say he thought it wrong; but hewas not proud of it. And that marks precisely the change from his timeto our own. Our merchants have really adopted the style of merchantprinces. They have begun openly to dominate the civilisation of theState, as the emperors and popes openly dominated in Italy. In Millais'stime, broadly speaking, art was supposed to mean good art; advertisementwas supposed to mean inferior art. The head of a black man, paintedto advertise somebody's blacking, could be a rough symbol, like an innsign. The black man had only to be black enough. An artist exhibitingthe picture of a negro was expected to know that a black man is not soblack as he is painted. He was expected to render a thousand tints ofgrey and brown and violet: for there is no such thing as a black manjust as there is no such thing as a white man. A fairly clear lineseparated advertisement from art.
The First Effect
I should say the first effect of the triumph of the capitalist (ifwe allow him to triumph) will be that that line of demarcation willentirely disappear. There will be no art that might not just as well beadvertisement. I do not necessarily mean that there will be no good art;much of it might be, much of it already is, very good art. You may putit, if you please, in the form that there has been a vast improvement inadvertisements. Certainly there would be nothing surprising if the headof a negro advertising Somebody's Blacking now adays were finishedwith as careful and subtle colours as one of the old and superstitiouspainters would have wasted on the negro king who brought gifts toChrist. But the improvement of advertisements is the degradation ofartists. It is their degradation for this clear and vital reason: thatthe artist will work, not only to please the rich, but only to increasetheir riches; which is a considerable step lower. After all, it was asa human being that a pope took pleasure in a cartoon of Raphael or aprince took pleasure in a statuette of Cellini. The prince paid forthe statuette; but he did not expect the statuette to pay him. It is myimpression that no cake of soap can be found anywhere in the cartoonswhich the Pope ordered of Raphael. And no one who knows the small-mindedcynicism of our plutocracy, its secrecy, its gambling spirit, itscontempt of conscience, can doubt that the artist-advertiser will oftenbe assisting enterprises over which he will have no moral control, andof which he could feel no moral approval. He will be working to spreadquack medicines, queer investments; and will work for Marconi instead ofMedici. And to this base ingenuity he will have to bend the proudestand purest of the virtues of the intellect, the power to attract hisbrethren, and the noble duty of praise. For that picture by Millais isa very allegorical picture. It is almost a prophecy of what uses areawaiting the beauty of the child unborn. The praise will be of a kindthat may correctly be called soap; and the enterprises of a kind thatmay truly be described as Bubbles.
II - Letters and the New Laureates
In these articles I only take two or three examples of the first andfundamental fact of our time. I mean the fact that the capitalists ofour community are becoming quite openly the kings of it. In my last (andfirst) article, I took the case of Art and advertisement. I pointed outthat Art must be growing worse—merely because advertisement is growingbetter. In those days Millais condescended to Pears' soap. In these daysI really think it would be Pears who condescended to Millais. But hereI tur