Icarus’ Dream
No bird soars too high if he soars with his own wings.
Ha!
Those who go down to Egypt for help
And rely upon horses!
They have put their trust in abundance of chariots,
In vast numbers of riders,
And they have not turned to the Holy One of Israel,
They have not sought GOD.
Isaiah 31:1
Though he lived in the 18th century, William Blake is a poet for our time. I am meditating on The Proverbs of Hell, from his illuminated work The Marriage of Heaven and Hell, to explore the relationship of poetry to prayer and prophecy.
Icarus flew too close to the sun. His father, Daedalus, was a master craftsman and inventor, best known for constructing a maze for the king (but that’s another story). Daedalus had constructed wings for himself and his son, to escape their exile (Ovid, Metamorphoses, Book VIII).
The wings were sealed with wax, so the father told his son to navigate the middle way, between land and sky. Icarus was warned not to fly too high. But he did not listen; he did not heed the warning. Icarus flew too close to the sun; the wings melted, and he fell into the sea. The story could be a cautionary tale, with the admonition to “listen to your parents;” or it could warn against hubris. If we insist on a moral.
Bruce Springsteen once sang, “Mama always told me not to look into the eyes of the sun: But mama, that's where the fun is.” Perhaps Icarus was enamored by the joy of flight. Perhaps he perceived that joy beyond the horizon. Perhaps this story is an admonition against joyous inebriation.
Bob Dylan asked: “Are birds free from the chains of the skyway?” Modern humans have flown beyond those chains; they may require intricate and powerful mechanical aids, but humans are no longer restricted by those ethereal chains.
If you’ve ever ridden in a jet, you’ve likely flown higher than Icarus.
Once again, Blake must be referring to the human imagination. Is it possible for the imagination to fly too high?
This 15th proverb clearly implies the answer is “No.” The Bible, in contrast, suggests one who trusts in their own power will ultimately be humiliated. Blake would have reveled in this contradiction. He did not recognize a clear demarcation between the human creative spirit and the Big Bigness of creation. The alchemist holds, “As above, so below.” Likewise, Blake saw humanity sharing in the divine imagination.
Modern science hypothesizes an infinite cosmos. Modern mythic stories delight in the possibility of multiverses created by the many choices humans face in life (e.g., “Everything, Everywhere, All at Once”). Our art may be limited by certain choices, but the human imagination is limitless. Blake supposed that the human imagination is as limitless as the cosmos.
My wings can only be clipped by my insecurity and uncertainty. My imagination is only limited by fear, fear that those wild dreams may manifest into insanity. Insanity is imagination’s dragon.
The dragon of insanity might devour. William Blake was not devoured, although many of his contemporaries thought him mad. But today, following his rediscovery and revitalization by W.B. Yeats, we marvel in his mystic visions. We marvel at his insight into the human spirit, and his poetic art.
Blake strove to communicate his mystic vision using a mythic system of his own devising. He did not let his wings be clipped. Although he had cause to feel discouraged, or as a failure, he continued creating. He remained true to his vision.
It is a worthy goal, to draw from the infinite cosmic well, to drink the wine of the Collective Unconscious, to find my unique voice. Let the voice sing. Let its imagination run free.
To fly beyond the sun, beyond the dragons, beyond the chains of fear and self-doubt.