Dead poets society, passion vs practicality, capitalism and why artists never win.
Dear reader,
Worshiped by dark academia obsessed nerds lurking on Letterboxd and Tumblr, Dead Poets Society, is cult classic with a death grip on young writers and film fanatics alike for 3 decades after it’s hit release 1989. With it’s powerful message still ringing in our ears today. And rewatching it now made me realise just why this movie hit young artists like crack in the 80s.
Earlier this year, when i was fresh and filled with new year optimism I was faced with a decision which would make or break my already unsure future, did I want to do Arts, Sciences or Commercials?
That was the big question everyone had for me the second I turned 15 and was thrust into the new realm of endless responsibility which was 9th grade, at the time i only knew one thing that I was not going to do commercials my hatred for the heartless corporate world made that clear, despite the fact that I excelled in business and was fine in accountings the thought of living the rest of my life climbing the corporate ladder and couped up in a one cubicle among thousands was daunting. So it really only left two options Sciences or Arts?
On one hand stood the noble Sciences, the section 65% of students in my year often went to, the one which everyone told me would get me the best opportunities and a bright stable future in STEM or medicine. Or Arts the section all the ‘dumb’ kids went to, the section even teachers looked down upon and shamed, every teacher warned was a waste for a ‘smart and capable girl’ like me and give me nothing but a wallet full regrets. The one I actually wanted to do. It was a simple question the stable practical option of a guaranteed well paying yet tedious career or my passion which would make satisfy my hunger for the spill of ink on white papers but would starve my bank account?
This was the same question which every passionate artist had to make to themselves or was made by someone else, and the same core question Dead Poets Society brilliantly poses through the tragic story Neil Perry.
Neil Perry is one of the main characters of the movie, a seemingly daring jokester who kick starts the titular Dead Poets Society, after learning their new english teacher Mr Charles Keating was in it when he was their age. He’s a boy filled with an ardent adoration for acting, a fire which is repeatedly put out by his dad’s strict vision of who he has to be. A doctor, a stable practical career. An ideal career. And a career that Neil has never wanted. This is Neil’s tragedy the fact his life purpose is something he’ll only be able to chase in his fantasies. To quote the movie itself “But only in their dreams can men be truly free. 'twas always thus and always thus will be.”
Neil’s father wasn’t made just to be a strict father he was made to represent a capitalistic society’s degrading view of arts as something meant to be chased in childhood delusions, as worthless wish fulfillment rather than something profoundly meaningful.
As in a world run by money why would anyone care for what doesn’t make money? In a world where money is the currency we base the worth of everything and anything’s value, even our own bodies and lives how could something that doesn’t make money be worth anything at all? Especially to a family like Neil’s, where money is scarce, or one like mine in where success is only defined by your paycheck? This insatiable hunger society has capitalism has for money has made humans forget money isn’t what we breathe for. We live for passion, we live for love, for joy. What makes us any different from other animals, the ability to feel passion, the ability eat, sleep and breathe not just for the sake of breathing. But for the sake of love. A love some find in another person, others find in a lab coat, others find in their patients but that I find in a pen and paper, that Neil finds under the spotlight of a stage, that Mr. Keating found in his students. A love we stay alive for.
Sincerely, yours
