Civilisation, Chaos
and Control
“The Second Coming”
presents a nightmarish apocalyptic scenario, as the speaker describes human
beings’ increasing loss of control and tendency towards violence and anarchy.
Surreal images fly at the reader thick and fast, creating an unsettling
atmosphere that suggests a world on the brink of destruction.
Yet for all its metaphorical complexity, “The
Second Coming” actually has a relatively simple message: it basically predicts
that time is up for humanity, and that civilization as we know it is about to
be undone. Yeats wrote this poem right after World War I, a global catastrophe
that killed millions of people. Perhaps it’s unsurprising, then, that the poem
paints a bleak picture of humanity, suggesting that civilization’s sense of
progress and order is only an illusion.
With the above in mind,
the first stanza’s challenging imagery starts to make more sense. The
“falconer,” representing humanity’s attempt to control its world, has lost its
“falcon” in the turning “gyre” (the gyre is an image Yeats uses to symbolize
grand, sweeping historical movements as a kind of spiral). These first lines
could also suggest how the modern world has distanced people from nature
(represented here by the falcon). In any case, it’s clear that whatever
connection once linked the metaphorical falcon and falconer has broken, and now
the human world is spiraling into chaos.
Indeed, the poem
suggests that though humanity might have looked like it was
making progress over the past “twenty centuries”—via seemingly ever-increasing
knowledge and scientific developments, for example—the First World War proved
people to be as capable of self-destruction as ever. “Anarchy” was “loosed upon
the world,” along with tides of blood (which clearly evoke the mass death of
war). “Innocence” was just a “ceremony,” now “drowned.” The “best” people lack
“conviction,” which suggests they're not bothering to do anything about this nightmarish
reality, while the “worst” people seem excited and eager for destruction. The
current state of the world, according to the speaker, proves that the
"centre"—that is, the foundation of society—was never very strong.
In other words,
humanity’s supposed arc of progress has been an illusion. Whether the poem
means that humanity has lost its way or never knew it to begin with is unclear,
but either way the promises of modern society—of safety, security, and human
dignity—have proven empty. And in their place, a horrific creature has
emerged—a grotesque perversion of the “Second Coming” promised by Christianity,
during which Jesus Christ is supposed to return to the earth and invite true
believers to heaven. This Second Coming is clearly not
Jesus, but instead a “rough beast” that humanity itself has woken up (perhaps,
the first stanza implies, by the incessant noise of its many wars).
With this final image of
the beast, the poem indicates that while humanity seemed to
get more civilized in the 2,000 years that followed Christ's birth, in reality
people have been sowing the seeds of their own destruction all along. This
“rough beast” is now “pitilessly” slouching toward the birthplace of
Jesus—likely in order to usher in a new age of “darkness” and “nightmare.”
Morality and
Christianity
“The Second Coming”
offers an unsettling take on Christian morality, suggesting that it is not the
stable and reliable force that people believe it to be. The poem clearly alludes to the biblical Book of Revelation from
the start, in which, put simply, Jesus returns to Earth to save the worthy.
According to the Bible, this is meant to happen when humanity reaches the end
times: an era of complete war, famine, destruction and hatred. The poem
suggests that the end times are already happening, because humanity has lost
all sense of morality—and perhaps that this morality was only an illusion to
begin with.
In the first stanza, the
speaker describes the chaos, confusion, and moral weakness that have caused
“things” to “fall apart.” In the second, the poem makes it clear that it’s a
specifically Christian morality that is being undone. In describing this
wide-ranging destruction, the poem asks whether Christian morality was built on
weak foundations in the first place—that is, perhaps humanity was never really
moral, but just pretended to be.
The first stanza's
imagery develops this sense of morality being turned upside down: good and evil
(the "best" and "worst") are no longer the reliable
categories that they once were, replaced by “mere anarchy” (“mere” means
something like “pure” here). Humanity has drenched itself in blood—the
“blood-dimmed tide”—suggesting that morality was only ever a “ceremony,” a performance
that conjured the illusion that humankind was "innocent."
What's more, the poem
suggests that no one—not even Jesus—can remedy this bleak reality. The biblical
Book of Revelation predicts a kind of final reckoning in which people
essentially get what they deserve based on their moral behavior and religious
virtues; it indicates that Jesus will come to save those who are worthy of
being saved. But “The Second Coming” offers no such comfort.
Instead, in the first
line of the second stanza the poem hints that a moment of divine intervention
must be at hand after the chaos of the first stanza ("surely some
revelation is at hand"). And, as it turns out, "some
revelation" is at hand. But rather than returning the
world to peace, this new revelation makes things worse: a
new and grotesque beast heads toward Bethlehem, the birthplace of Jesus, to be
brought into the world. If Jesus was the figurehead for a moral movement, this
new beastly leader is the figurehead of a new world of “anarchy,” in which the “best”
people (likely the most moral people) lack the courage of their convictions and
the “worst” are allowed to thrive. In other words, the poem portrays Christian
morality and prophecy as weak, or even proven false, in the face of the
violence and destruction that humans have created.
The “blank gaze” of this
new creature provides further evidence of just how hopeless the situation is.
This being might have the head of a “man,” but it doesn’t have moral
sense—instead, it is “pitiless.” It is arriving to preside over “blood-dimmed
tide[s]” and “drowned’ “innocence”—not a world of kindness, charity, and
justice. Its sphinx-like appearance is also deliberately at odds with
Christian imagery, which further suggests a break with Christian morality.
Meanwhile, the “Spiritus Mundi” mentioned by the poem is
what Yeats thought of as the world’s collective unconscious, from which the
poet could draw insight. This vision of the beast, then, is suggestive of
a worldwide shift into “anarchy,” as the collective mind of humanity
lets go of morality.
“The Second Coming” is a
deeply ambiguous poem. Indeed, Yeats revised specific cultural references out of
the poem before its publication. But there’s no mistaking that this is a bleak
vision of the future of humankind, one which presents morality as a kind of
collective dream that is now turning into a nightmare.