The Unknown Citizen - W. H. Auden
(To JS/07 M 378 This Marble Monument Is Erected by the State)
He was found by the Bureau of Statistics to be
One against whom there was no official complaint,
And all the reports on his conduct agree
That, in the modern sense of an old-fashioned word, he was a saint,
For in everything he did he served the Greater Community.
Except for the War till the day he retired
He worked in a factory and never got fired,
But satisfied his employers, Fudge Motors Inc.
Yet he wasn't a scab or odd in his views,
For his Union reports that he paid his dues,
(Our report on his Union shows it was sound)
And our Social Psychology workers found
That he was popular with his mates and liked a drink.
The Press are convinced that he bought a paper every day
And that his reactions to advertisements were normal in every way.
Policies taken out in his name prove that he was fully insured,
And his Health-card shows he was once in hospital but left it cured.
Both Producers Research and High-Grade Living declare
He was fully sensible to the advantages of the Instalment Plan
And had everything necessary to the Modern Man,
A phonograph, a radio, a car and a frigidaire.
Our researchers into Public Opinion are content
That he held the proper opinions for the time of year;
When there was peace, he was for peace: when there was war, he went.
He was married and added five children to the population,
Which our Eugenist says was the right number for a parent of his generation.
And our teachers report that he never interfered with their education.
Was he free? Was he happy? The question is absurd:
Had anything been wrong, we should certainly have heard.
"We are just merely digits in this world; in this life, "added five children to the population". The subject of this poem is unknown. He is just someone whose records are with the "Bureau of Statistics". Sad isn't it? The poem itself is like a report or news commentary with no emotional slant whatsoever. Just like a string of words and numbers and organisations to describe the man. We do not get personalised with the subject. It is just the superficial and technical aspects of him that we are reading about. Just one big stanza brings the feeling of formality. In a way, it is true for us too isn't it? Who are we? To the state, we could just be a digit. A number that the state have to keep records on. Are we just identified just by what policies we take out, how many kids we give birth to, and where we worked? OR should there be more? Surely we are not flat characters in this story. Surely there's more to our identity.. But what is it? What is mine? sigh. How i wish someone can give me the answer. My brain hurts thinking so much about what makes me, me. And it is always much better to see yourself from someone else's point of view right?" -J-
That was an opinion from a friend of mine..
My opinion is that, people are unique in their own way.. Its not what other people make you but what you make of yourself... You don't leave your life by fulfilling the wishes of others but what you fulfill yourself... and the theory can go on... We may just be a mere digit to the society and may not give a big impact compared to those influential people, but that doesn't make an excuse for not enjoying your life till the day you die.. There are soo many things to explore and so many things to experience.. The fact that we are just digits contributing to society is a painful. Like what my friend mentioned, we have many certs, even after we die, we still have our last cert.We were made use to compete and without even being acknowledge at times. In short, we are like robots or should i say slaves? That is the ugly truth, a reality in fact... that is the reason why we are never get caught up in reality, and always stay in our own little world...
The little world that brings our little happiness that can make us put a smile our face. We can be optimistic but that doesn't mean we do not feel the pain of being ignored and used.
What do you think abt this?
I'M OUT!!!
LOVES YA'LL!!!
~aisasha danie~
