Dr. Seuss and Philosophy - Jacob M. Held [17]
All three of the above responses to the pain and suffering of life seem unsatisfactory. If life is marked by pain, and pain is the direct result of our constant striving and willing, then so long as we strive we will be inflicted with the pain of existence. No matter how much we lie to ourselves that it’ll be okay in the end, it won’t. There will always be new troubles and failures. We can endure this by telling ourselves that it could be worse, and no matter how bad it is it’s only temporary. But life is still fundamentally a problem, something to be endured, cured, or if possible, avoided. Schopenhauer offers a response as well.
For Schopenhauer’s answer we need look no further than the top of the nearest cactus. Here we find our ascetic, one who has chosen to deal with the pains of existence by refusing to participate. If pain is caused by willing and striving, then quieting your will is the solution. Simply stop striving. Now this is easier said than done. After all, if we are at root will, and if will is an unconscious striving that pushes us forward, it seems to a great extent out of our control. We can try to stop, but truly ceasing to will or strive is going to be the result of nothing short of grace. So Schopenhauer’s response is self-renunciation to the best of our ability. You repudiate this life of constant struggle and failure, cease to will, and thus escape the pain of life as much as possible until released through the death of this mortal body. “In fact, nothing else can be stated as the aim of our existence except the knowledge that it would be better for us not to exist.”8 Life is a disease for which the cure is to stop participating. The answer to the game of life is simply to refuse to play. Yet, Seuss never gave this response. In fact, he goes out of his way to avoid concluding that we should just stop trying. But why do so if pain is the inevitable result?
Where They Never Have Troubles
The problem we face is nothing short of determining how we ought to value a human life marked by inescapable pain and suffering. Can our lives be redeemed? In this discussion the facts are not in dispute. Although people can debate the metaphysics of will and the nature of the universe, one can’t deny that our lives are characterized by constant striving punctuated with periodic successes and more frequent failures. So Schopenhauer is right on these grounds; life is striving, life is pain, and so pain and its absence seem to exhaust its possibilities. But this doesn’t mean we have to find life insufferable, worthless, or a disease best cured by the sweet release of death. Life can still be loved and enjoyed for what it is. It’s really a matter of perspective, or rather reevaluation. And Dr. Seuss finds a kindred spirit in Friedrich Nietzsche.
Friedrich Nietzsche (1844–1900) is infamous among philosophers. Even many professional philosophers don’t know where to place him in the tradition or how to contextualize his work. And the picture of him most nonprofessionals have is more a caricature than anything else, and not a flattering one at that. The remainder of this chapter can’t fix that. I can’t provide a comprehensive account of Nietzsche’s philosophy. What I can do is provide a window into how he saw the world and how his perspective is an answer to Schopenhauer’s pessimism.
Nietzsche approaches philosophy like an artist approaches a canvas. His task is to paint a picture of life that is affirmative; a yes-saying in opposition to the asceticism, life denial of nay-saying pessimists like Schopenhauer. And in this regard his vision finds voice in Dr. Seuss, specifically Seuss’s work I Had Trouble in Getting to Solla Sollew.
As noted above, Seuss’s books often deal with life in its totality, focusing on the ups and downs. These books also often provide an answer to how we ought to deal with our troubles: optimism, denial, endurance, and so forth. But there is one response we have yet to consider, and it’s the response offered in Solla Sollew. “I’ve bought a big bat, I’m ready you see. Now my troubles