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- Oct 29, 2002
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NOTE: This thread was split off from:
Growing Old—Death Approaches!
http://forum.forteantimes.com/index.php?threads/growing-old—death-approaches.25458/
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Thanks for that, Mungoman.
Where do you stand on 'the nobility of the working classes': the idea that despite poverty and the huge wealth disparity in the country (and perhaps partly because of these things), the working man and his family often manage to eke out what they have into an honest and morally praiseworthy life? That there was something worthy to be admired in a spirit that the hardships of life had fashioned?
I'm thinking here simultaneously of the simple religious piety, the creation and maintenance of social 'rules', the temperance movements and mutual societies of the century before last, but also of the simple stoic acceptance of the unchosen burden of long and hard daily labour that never really went away.
I ask as there seems to be political debate on whether such a thing actually existed or whether it was a romanticised myth (like that of the noble savage) created by those who benefited most from an unjust system.
Both sets of my grandparents lived long enough and worked hard enough to enjoy (considerable & some) financial comfort in old age, but the habits of their childhood were never abandoned, and to an extent my father (fast becoming an old man himself) has inherited the same outlook: nothing is wasted, most things can be repaired, borrowing is a risk (perhaps even a necessary evil), sloth is a waste of your life, a man's word and handshake should be worth more than his signature--you know the type. Yet none of this was 'taught' in a school or church, it was inculcated through necessity and experience. I'm thinking most of all of my paternal grandfather: a house painter, a soldier and then forty years in an oil refinery, which coupled with his industrial tobacco consumption, ultimately killed him. Perhaps it's just my need to place meaning on a life that from my own perspective looks hard (he never complained in my hearing), but I'd like to think that he gained something from it. I rather like his reference on leaving the army. It says nothing but somehow everything:
I'd like to think there's a kernel of truth in it, but then I'm a romantic, which is why I'm also a cynic--reality so often falls short.
Growing Old—Death Approaches!
http://forum.forteantimes.com/index.php?threads/growing-old—death-approaches.25458/
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Hello Min - thinking on the death rates of males and all that, I have my Grandads clearance to work which says he has had 6 years of education and could be gainfully employed.
As he was a Midlands Lad, the two main employers were the potteries (white lung), and the Pits (black lung).
He was eleven.
He chose the Pits and worked there until 1914 then took up the Kings Shilling and fought in the Leicesters In Europe. He was wounded a couple of times - once through his mouth which meant that when he ate his nose and chin would touch, and the other was from shrapnel down one side of his body which, after forming carbuncles, used to drop out at most inconvenient times.
After experiencing what he had he naturally developed a bolshi Socialist attitude, and word soon got around, so there was bugger all work for him after he was demobbed - I really don't know how the family survived through the late twenties and thirties.
Anyway, he survived and migrated to New Zealand in 1953, and died a contented old man in his late seventies.
I think that until recently, life for both genders was expendable Min - what comes to my mind are the cotton on girls in those Mills, and the match girls. It must have bred a certain resilience in the working class of those days. Poor little buggers.
Thanks for that, Mungoman.
Where do you stand on 'the nobility of the working classes': the idea that despite poverty and the huge wealth disparity in the country (and perhaps partly because of these things), the working man and his family often manage to eke out what they have into an honest and morally praiseworthy life? That there was something worthy to be admired in a spirit that the hardships of life had fashioned?
I'm thinking here simultaneously of the simple religious piety, the creation and maintenance of social 'rules', the temperance movements and mutual societies of the century before last, but also of the simple stoic acceptance of the unchosen burden of long and hard daily labour that never really went away.
I ask as there seems to be political debate on whether such a thing actually existed or whether it was a romanticised myth (like that of the noble savage) created by those who benefited most from an unjust system.
Both sets of my grandparents lived long enough and worked hard enough to enjoy (considerable & some) financial comfort in old age, but the habits of their childhood were never abandoned, and to an extent my father (fast becoming an old man himself) has inherited the same outlook: nothing is wasted, most things can be repaired, borrowing is a risk (perhaps even a necessary evil), sloth is a waste of your life, a man's word and handshake should be worth more than his signature--you know the type. Yet none of this was 'taught' in a school or church, it was inculcated through necessity and experience. I'm thinking most of all of my paternal grandfather: a house painter, a soldier and then forty years in an oil refinery, which coupled with his industrial tobacco consumption, ultimately killed him. Perhaps it's just my need to place meaning on a life that from my own perspective looks hard (he never complained in my hearing), but I'd like to think that he gained something from it. I rather like his reference on leaving the army. It says nothing but somehow everything:
Clean and sober. This man has a flair for making the best of things. Cheerful & reliable: a valuable man in any employment.
I'd like to think there's a kernel of truth in it, but then I'm a romantic, which is why I'm also a cynic--reality so often falls short.
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