Resilience and compliance

You are the only daughter in my extended family, my dear. So far, at least. That’s what makes you special. I wish I could give you some words of my own, but I’m going to extrapolate, using a poem written by my favourite, W B Yeats.

First, a background check on the poet himself. Born in the 1860s, Yeats began writing poetry, and other stuff, very early in life, not just because he had met the love of his life. However, his love life was complicated, because the woman did not share his feelings. It is said that Yeats even proposed to the woman’s daughter, but was turned down. He eventually married and had a daughter, Anne. So, the poem “A Prayer for my Daughter” is his take on life, love, and the lessons that both these experiences have to offer, both privately and publicly.

The year in which the poem was published—1919–is significant. All of Europe was recovering from the horrors of the First World War, the Russian Revolution of 1917 which put communism firmly on the map, and the continuing fight for freedom by the IRA, all of which were symptoms of a world gone berserk. What could Yeats do to stem the “blood-dimmed tide”? The world was crumbling, his world was crumbling; his only hope was that his daughter would inherit a better world than his. How could that ever happen when the whole world seemed intent on self-destruction and complete annihilation? Perhaps a prayer would help.

The poet wanted his daughter to try and blot out all the mayhem around her. If she could immerse herself in custom, tradition and gentility, she would be able to reclaim that “ radical innocence” that the heart, mind and soul understands— the knowledge that the soul is self-appeasing, self-delighting, self-affrighting. She could become like the sturdy laurel tree that is able to withstand the storm raging all around.

Yeats does not want his daughter to be excessively beautiful, because beauty is a trap in itself. That kind of beauty, the jaw-dropping kind, can often lead to arrogance and pettiness, and therefore Anne should rather consider the innate beauty that lies within. Where does this innate, inherent, inbred beauty come from? Yeats believes that such beauty comes from custom, tradition, simple family values, and a willingness to be compliant when necessary. The “horn of plenty” is available to all, but only the radically innocent soul can engage it fully. Think of the story of Ruth in the Bible, and you will understand even better. A recent country song has the line “ always be humble and kind”, and to me, that seems the gist of Yeats’s prayer.

That, my dear, is my message to you: be yourself, express yourself, but always remember the others around you. They may not have the many talents that you have, but they should never be discounted. The simple joys of friendship, of sharing and caring, and of continuing to do the things that you love, bring out much more than what the world has to offer. Of course, everybody wants to go out and find that brave new world. Is it still there? You, my dear, will have to find out for yourself.

Finally, since you were born a Peppin, the bloodline will continue to flow through you. If you are always daddy’s little girl, imagine what it will be for me.

All the best, my dear. The world awaits you.