On Pessimism

Life constitutes happiness and pain. Anyone who has acquired a certain amount of life experience can testify that pain outweighs happiness. This is very unfortunate, but it is a fact that we must accept. Different people, as their tempers vary, devise different methods to deal with misfortunes. The most common method they employ is optimism. An optimistic outlook, I am told, can help boast up one's confidence and deal with misfortunes with hope. It encourages you to see things from a different perspective which sounds encouraging. Optimism, they believe, can generate every bit of possible happiness in us in the highest degree. But let us flip the coin to the other side and see what it offers- pessimism.

Pessimism is always considered a derogatory term. It is assumed to be a way to deal with life negatively. It does not just intensify our sadness when we are confronted with frustrations, but it also undermines the pleasure we receive in our happiest moments. It is believed that people who acquire a pessimistic outlook have stronger suicidal impulse because everything in this world is rendered hopeless. 'So what good is it of?' one may ask. On the face of it, it seems to downplay our happiness. But some philosophers offer a different perspective. Pessimism, they claim, is probably the best way to deal with life. Arthur Schopenhauer promotes suicide as he thinks the direct purpose of life is suffering. Unfortunately, he himself does not live up to his own standard. Nietzsche, after meditating on the course of history, concludes that history is not necessarily progressive. On the contrary, in most cases, it is regressive. Rousseau sides with them and thinks that we should revert back to our natural instincts and contemplate what we truly desire. He reminds us that our civilisation is actually going backwards and we are tempted by unnecessary desires. Therefore, it is an illusion to think that civilisation is always advancing. We always overestimate ourselves and invest too much hope in our future. Take a look at the reality. What actually happens is that things usually do not turn out as we expect and this world is flourished with tears and evil. This progressivism wears us down. It renders us depressed and frustrated.

The Japanese are the masters of pessimism who can definitely, I think, teach us some important lessons about life. It is easier to start with a culturally significant symbol, namely, cherry flowers. They have this custom of flower viewing, or if my dear reader prefers, hanami (花見) which was originally adopted from China. But needless to say, this custom has been lost in China. Cherry flowers usually blossom from January all the way down to April depending on different regions in Japan. The Japanese would usually take this chance to gather at parks to appreciate the blossoming. But yet Cherry flowers has another cultural meaning. Cherry flowers usually blossom at the end of each student year which many students may move to city for the convenience of work or continue their education overseas. Therefore, it signifies loneliness. It represents the separation of friends and romantic partners. This scenery invites us back to a melancholic sentiment. It is often associated with the idea of 'mono no aware' (物の哀れ), the fleeting nature of things which we often express our sadness at. The unspeakable delight of friendship, the ineffable kindness of our romantic partners, and the unconditional love of our parents, it is usually too late when we realise our need to secure them. However, this scenery is often beautifully depicted in literature, novels, poem, music and films. It seems to me it is not their wish to decry such sentiment. On the contrary, this sentiment needs celebration. However sad it is, it is sadly beautiful. Little wonder samurais performed their Seppukus under cherry trees.

But what do we learn from this pessimism? How do we deal with life with this sort of pessimism? It is an inevitable fact that everything has its own due course which we have no control over. Perhaps we should just let the chips fall where they may. Moreover, if there is no death, there is no reborn. This is utterly sad but it is also a form of sadness we have to live with. But you may ask, 'what about our desire to preserve our culture and history? Is it not important to retain our identity?' Needless to say, culture and history are important for they give depth and stability in thoughts. But there is no contradiction here. In fact, it is precisely this sentiment which gives birth our utmost desire to preserve them. It is because everything has its own due course, however futile our effort may be, we still strive to preserve them. The history of mankind has persuaded us that Homo Sapiens are capable of accomplishing what seems to be the unimaginable and explaining what seems to be the unknowable. Is it not reasonable that our wish to preserve things that are of great importance to human values should be rendered possible? But none of this could have achieved without pessimism. Only through a pessimistic outlook, we can rise above the land of agony and conquer the world with free intelligence.

For those who are still not convinced that pessimism is a better way to deal with life, here is one example. It seems the human minds have the capacity to find pleasure from tears and sorrows. I am referring to the great art of tragedy. Are we not often sensibly touched by the great plays of tragedy? Are we not often moved to tears by a piece of exquisite music which inspires our dark moods? Would you, dear reader, suggest that we are inherently masochistic? But why are we delighted of such sentiments? Monsieur Fontenelle offers an answer:

'This idea, though weak and disguised, suffices to diminish the pain which we suffer from misfortunes of those whom we love, and to reduce that affliction to such a pitch as converts it into a pleasure. We weep for the misfortune of a hero to whom we are attached. In the same instant we comfort ourselves by reflecting, that it is nothing but a fiction: and it is precisely that mixture of sentiments which composes an agreeable sorrow, and tears that delight us.'

This mixture of sentiments seems to resemble that of our sentiment for the fleeting nature of things and our wish to secure them. In Monsieur Fontenelle's case, he explains that the audience may be deeply moved to tears by the tragedy which happens to the characters in the play, but the audience seems to, on the other hand, deny such sentiment by convincing itself that it is a fiction. In like manner, it saddens us that everything has its due course, but it is such sentiment which makes us go on to, in a degree, deny our pessimism by investing hope in the human race. Though this seems a good explanation, David Hume is not satisfied. He goes on further to add,

'The genius required to paint objects in a lively manner, the art employed in collecting all the pathetic circumstances, the judgement displayed in disposing them; the exercise, I say, of these noble talents, together with the force of expression, and beauty of oratorial numbers, diffuse the highest satisfaction on the audience, and excite the most delightful movements.'

Put it this way, only through artistic genius, one can convert even the most melancholic passion into pleasure. The artistic beauty of delivering a great work of poetry will transform our melancholy and sorrows into a soft and tender one. It inspires in us a new sentiment to perceive the true beauty of a tragedy. Hume goes on to quote elder Pliny,

'It is very remarkable, says he, that the last works of celebrated artists, which they left imperfect, are always the most prized, such as the Iris of Aristides, the Tyndarides of Nicomachus, the Medea of Timomachus, and the Venus of Apelles. These are valued even above their finished productions. The broken lineaments of the piece, and the half-formed idea of the painter, are carefully studied; and our very grief for that curious hand, which has been stopped by death, is an additional increase to our pleasure.

These instances are sufficient to afford us some insight into the analogy of nature, and to show us, that the pleasure which poets, orators, and musicians give us, by exciting grief, sorrow, indignation, compassion, is not so extraordinary or paradoxical as it may at first sight appear.'

I have in mind some other examples. Charles Dickens' 'The Mystery of Edwin Drood' was left unfinished, however, it was highly praised up to a point that it was made into a film and musical. The unfinished works of Leonardo da Vinci, such as 'Adoration of the Magi', are still being appreciated down to this day which scholars still carefully study them. As we have already seen, when our despair, melancholy, tears, and sorrows are presented with artistic sensibility, they not only become beautiful, but also please and delight us.

An pessimistic outlook does not make us masochistic. It only reduces our hope in the future into a soft and tender one. It removes us from disillusionment and resignation. It refines and polishes our sentiment of excitement. We all know loneliness gives us uneasiness. But a little loneliness is fruitful. When we are apart from our best friends, the first moment may yield us to despair, yet nothing is more favourable than such short interval of separation. When we reunite again, the companionship that we receive is far more agreeable. Lovers often complain the absence of their partners, yet the love they experience would not been more passionate if they could not endure loneliness. Only through pain, we find the greatest good of human passions.

Pessimism is no nihilism. Nihilism denies the value of everything which renders our actions meaningless. On the other hand, pessimism expects nothing but works at everything. It distils our emotions into the most finest and sophisticated degree. It motivates us to struggle for a better future, yet we will not be confronted with despair and depression when things do not turn out the way we wish them to be. Nietzche in his whole life was met with immense difficulties, but he consoles us with the thought that only we encounter difficulties, we learn from mistakes and perfect ourselves. Pessimists are lightened by life's absurdities. They know how to strike a balance between weight and lightness. They can appreciate the beauty when flowers blossom, while in awe of the beauty when they wither and not being distracted by its sadness.

'The optimist proclaims that we live in the best of all possible worlds; and the pessimist fears this is true.' - James Branch Cabell

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