In the Blackfriars area of London, just South of St. Paul’s, stands a tall sculpture called “The Seven Ages of Man”. It invites contemplation for two reasons. It reminds us, first, of the fact that youth does not last forever, that we cannot escape getting old. The second remarkable fact is that Richard Kindersley, the sculptor, has made no effort to cheer us up: all seven portraits he has piled up into a column, from baby to nonagenarian, show the most serious faces possible. I believe that he was saying that life is tough, nothing to laugh about. Or, to use contemporary street language, that life sucks.
Good Lord, if we were all that pessimistic? What would we do for fun? On the other hand, I do find voices that echo those sentiments. In Southern Germany, for example, where I spent my childhood years they have a saying that goes somewhat like this: “All my life I work like a maniac and in the end? There I lie, only my stiff legs sticking out”. I do not expect any of my readers to be fluent in German, but in case any do read German I must give you the German dialect version to be fair, for the humor of the original does not come through in translation. Here it is: “Dei Lebtag schaffscht wie a Dackel und am End schtreckscht die Baa naus”.
Not all Germans, by the way, see life in such harsh terms. The more bourgeois version of the above goes like this: “From the cradle to the shroud there are forms one must fill out”.
We are all free to elaborate on that. I could try to imitate Ogden Nash and suggest: “From desperately crying newly born to one slowly but perceptibly wilting and visibly worn.” Or if you are in a hurry, “From womb to tomb”.
Due to a temporary condition requiring rehabilitation in a place established for that purpose I had a chance to observe the many specially designed pieces of equipment that occupational therapists use to help people “relearn” to get in and out of bed or deep chairs, or to sit down on the toilet and, more difficult, to get up from same. The latter task is facilitated by a specially designed restroom which a large sign on the door advertises as the Training Toilet.
And there goes, we might say, the last shred of dignity and decorum as we now sum up the ages of man: “From baby’s toilet training we recoiled at, to weakening old folks’ rehab’s training toilet.”
(c)2017 by Herbert H. Hoffman. Picture credit: Wikipedia