They call us anonymous,
As if we
had no names.
They brand
us anonymous,
A bulk of
the unknown,
And dub us
nameless
So they can
sound illustrious.
They tag us
as infamous
To secure
their comfort and make us dubious.
They point
at all of us,
The toiling
masses,
To set us
apart from the luckiest.
They call
us liabilities
Just to
push their assets,
And
capitalize on a few names
To better
label us anonymous.
They knead
us into one formless mass,
So they can
shape us to their image
And
configure us to conform
To their
nameless norm.
They decree
what suits their interests
In our
nameless names,
And call it
our will.
Their pens
pen us in silence
To make
room for their fame.
They coin
rules
To destroy
the Law.
They defile
our names as anonymous
To make
their nameless lies more spacious,
And defame
our anonymity
Better to
deprive us of our identity.
They call
us anonymous,
As if we
had no names.
But we,
anonymous,
Bear a
name:
Power.
And we
shall voice our name:
Freedom.
In Europe of the Middle Ages works of art such as the cathedrals and much poetry were anonymously created in the glory of God not man, but personal identity began to assert itself in the humanism of the Renaissance. However, the decline of church power was also compensated for by the rise of the authority of society and government. Statism continues to be inimical to individualism, and many writers struggle with this duality. Shortly after his move from the UK to the US in 1939, W. H. Auden wrestled with the same theme as Brigitte:
ReplyDeleteTHE UNKNOWN CITIZEN
(To JS/07 M 378
This Marble Monument
Is Erected by the State)
He was found by the Bureau of Statistics to be
One against whom there was no official complaint,
And all the reports on his conduct agree
That, in the modern sense of an old-fashioned word, he was a saint,
For in everything he did he served the Greater Community.
Except for the War till the day he retired
He worked in a factory and never got fired,
But satisfied his employers, Fudge Motors Inc.
Yet he wasn’t a scab or odd in his views,
For his Union reports that he paid his dues,
(Our report on his Union shows it was sound)
And our Social Psychology workers found
That he was popular with his mates and liked a drink.
The Press are convinced that he bought a paper every day
And that his reactions to advertisements were normal in every way.
Policies taken out in his name prove that he was fully insured,
And his Health-card shows he was once in hospital but left it cured.
Both Producers Research and High-Grade Living declare
He was fully sensible to the advantages of the Instalment Plan
And had everything necessary to the Modern Man,
A phonograph, a radio, a car and a frigidaire.
Our researchers into Public Opinion are content
That he held the proper opinions for the time of year;
When there was peace, he was for peace: when there was war, he went.
He was married and added five children to the population,
Which our Eugenist says was the right number for a parent of his generation.
And our teachers report that he never interfered with their education.
Was he free? Was he happy? The question is absurd:
Had anything been wrong, we should certainly have heard.