A Lament for the Lamb

Those rascals at http://changethis.com/ have a nifty article Johnathon Flaum called "Finding Your Howl". Lets take a look at it and see what we can glean from it.

First of all it begins with a neat story about a red wolf named Mumon, and his bizarre acid trip like voyage of self discovery and emancipation. Then Mr. Flaum gives us a critical analysis of this story and some of its deeper themes. I'd like to talk about one in particular: That of the need for the elder self to die a metaphorical death for the new you to emerge. This will, I hope, tie in nicely with my choice of quote later on.


Mumon is part of a breed that is virtually extinct. They must be bred in captivity to survive, but it really living? And as a civilized man, reading this in the comfort of my modern home, what parallels are there for me?

One, to be too content is to be stifled, and that is true of man and beast alike. Struggle brings inspiration, though often alas, not in time. To live in comfort and shelter from all life's perils would stilt our human spirits and creative minds. We would lose our need to exist, as we have habitually defined that existence as one of championing over all that would end it. Classes on creative writing discuss the three main plots: man versus man, man versus nature, man versus self. Without something to put after "versus" man stands alone. We are defined by our conflicts and we need them to even justify our own existences.

Heady stuff, but if it doesn't appeal to you on some visceral level, I think you may be too socialized into believing that all conflict is bad. War is bad, violence is bad, disease, rape, murder all horrible. But we need to be in conflict to really be alive and to be human. We just need to overcome the worst devils of our natures, which is easier said than done.

The poem I chose to read aloud is Dylan Thomas' "Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night". One of the first things reading it aloud brings to mind is how often that opening line is misquoted as "Go not gently". I think the awkward language makes us uncomfortable, so we alter it a little.

Here's the work in its entirety. Feel Free to sing along!

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rage at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

This poem has always been a favorite of mine, and as the son of parents who are now deceased I cannot read it but to think of them. But in this case I was pondering the story of Mumon and his need to die metaphorically before he could live as a new wolf. This is not just the railing against our biological cessations, but the mournful expression of the pain of change. To change our perspectives we must discard an old way of thinking, hopefully for a better one. But it is still painful and uncertain and a part of will never want to go. A part of us will always howl, and rage, rage against the dying of the light.