Day of Doom, Michael Wigglesworth (365 Books, Day 140)

[rushthatspeaks]

As the back cover states, this may at one time have been the most popular book published in America. It's a colonial Puritan poem, written by a pastor, depicting the Last Judgment. Its first edition sold out within a year of its 1662 publication, and for the next century it was basically catechism.

However, the nineteenth century and after have pretty much ignored it, and most critics nowadays hate it. I thought I'd see for myself.

... after finishing this, and you can ask B. for corroboration, I stood up and threw it as hard as I could across the room, in order to relieve my feelings. The reason critics nowadays hate it is that you simply cannot separate the literary qualities from the theology, and the theology is honestly Everything Hatable About Calvinism. Wigglesworth's one point of theological interest and difference is that he held something of a Neoplatonic or Stoic view of the material world; therefore his God is icily rational in his condemnation of the better part of humanity, because emotions are part of the flesh. This God damns stillborn children because his grace would not truly be free grace if it were constrained by the rules of what others consider to be justice-- and the author claims that that is justice. Honestly, this functions for me as an argument against Calvinism, and the more desperately it attempts to be apologia, the more I detest it. There's a bit late in the poem where Wigglesworth claims that the torments of the damned will last until the elect choose to voluntarily choose places with them, i.e. never as of course the elect would never leave the sight of God because they love him so much, and I sat there going a) seriously, what that place needs is a revolution and b) what this book means by the word love is not what I understand the word love to mean.

Wigglesworth does have a facility for rhyme and a reasonable hand with vernacular poetry. Mostly this just makes what he's actually saying even more horrifying.

Nought joyn'd to nought can ne're make ought,
nor Cyphers make a Sum:
Nor things Finite, to infinite
by multiplying come:
A Cockle-shell may serve as well
to lade the Ocean dry,
as finite things and Reckonings
to bound Eternity.

I mean, this isn't amazing, but it scans and it gets across its meaning and it doesn't make me want to claw my own eyes out.

It's the content that does that:

Number the Sand upon the Strand,
And Atomes of the Air;
and do thy best on Man and Beast,
to reckon every Hair;
Take all the Dust, if so thou lust,
and add to thine Account:
Yet shall the Years of sinners tears,
the Number far surmount.

Yeccch.

In short, don't do this to yourself, unless you have some kind of academic interest. I wouldn't have managed to finish this, except that it isn't long, and it was genuinely horrifying to watch him develop his relentless logic. I am so glad that this sort of thing is a less prevalent cultural thread than it used to be.

Comments

[coraa.livejournal.com]

Having gone to school with really quite objectionable Calvinists, I can say that they think Wigglesworth is beyond the pale. And that's saying something.

[rushthatspeaks.livejournal.com]

That's... rather a relief to hear, actually.

[larryhammer]

What excerpts I've seen of this made me suspect it of being grindingly Calvinistic. I'm glad to receive confirmation that, indeed, this is so, though I'm sorry you had to put yourself through that for my benefit. May I recommend something by Francis Quarles by way of antidote, or better yet one of the Fletchers (Giles Younger or Phineas), if you're going to read 17th century Christian apologia-in-verse?

ETA: Ah, and it turns out I have the complete Day of Doom, with helpful marginal glosses of relevant scripture, along with a couple other works of edifying pulpit-thunder-in-verse -- at least one of which I managed to finish, before passing on to Anne Bradstreet.

---L.

[rushthatspeaks.livejournal.com]

'Grindingly' is the correct word.

*notes down recs for antidotes*

[larryhammer]

After refreshing my memory last night, I say go for Giles Fletcher, at least if you want narrative -- Quarles is mostly short emblems aimed at the middle-class market, and brother Phineas is just weird. Giles seems to have absorbed the lessons of Spencer and du Bartas and done something original with them. (Which makes him an interesting alternative to Milton.)

---L.

[teenybuffalo.livejournal.com]

Ah, well I'm glad you've read it, even though it sounds like it was a deeply offputting experience, because I'm usually the only one who knows about that poem.

I like it a lot. I don't mean I agree with any of its ideology. The reverse is true: I'm interested in Puritan thought, predestination and original sin and horrible fates for the worshipers of the Prince of Peace. The very nastiness of their theology fascinates me, especially when you look at the practicioners, who like many other devotees of unkind gods were often very decent people in practice. Samuel Sewall is one of my historical crushes, and he was every bit a Puritan. As you say, it's everything wrong with Calvinism.

I wouldn't force this poem on anybody, goodness knows. That said, I have to take issue with condemning it completely. I think it's got a lot going for it, both in form and function. For one thing, it's very catchy religious vernacular poetry. As you've probably found out already, it tends to get stuck in the head. Regarding the content, I think that Wigglesworth is saying it, but everybody's thinking it. And lots of theologians of his time and era are saying the same things in their sermons and whatnot, but in a far less catchy manner. Wigglesworth is like the Evil Cleric Dr. Seuss.

Also, he's mockable. I love this poem because it's so extreme that after a while I can't take it seriously anymore and I start to laugh even as I rage. If a minister told me the same things in unornamented prose, I would rage with no enjoyment at all. Wigglesworth is such a mean-spirited ass and yet writes such a fun style that he just amuses me. He even has a comical name.

By the way, there is a school of thought that says that A Visit From St. Nicholas was inspired by the beginning of this poem, "When at Midnight brake forth a light..." But that's matter for a whole post.

Whew, I guess I have some opinions about "The Day of Doom." Thanks for letting me ramble, I hope this explains my Wigglesworth-love a little bit.

[rushthatspeaks.livejournal.com]

... I can actually see that about A Visit From St. Nicholas.

This poem-- I'm glad it's in print. It's definitely important, and I can see the shadow of his meter right down through American poetry (hiiii Emily Dickinson). But it doesn't manage to push itself over into funny, for me, I keep sitting there going 'what if there are people out there who still think this way?'

I can understand liking it, and I'm glad I read it. Just-- really upsetting theology.

[teenybuffalo.livejournal.com]

Just-- really upsetting theology.

I understand. I was brought up as an atheist, which tends to give me an objective interest in religious matters--because they've never had to concern me in any significant way. I do tend to forget that religion, faith, theology, are all living concerns for people.

[sovay]

Take all the Dust, if so thou lust,
and add to thine Account:
Yet shall the Years of sinners tears,
the Number far surmount.

Gyah. What?

Have some restorative mathematics:

da mi basia mille, deinde centum,
deinde mille altera, dein secunda centum,
deinde usque altera mille, deinde centum.
dein, cum milia multa fecerunt,
conturbabimus illa, ne sciamus
aut ne quis malus invidere possit,
cum tantum sciat esse basiorum.

[rushthatspeaks.livejournal.com]

Si quis me sinat usque basiare,
usque ad milia basium trecenta,
nec numquam videar satur futurus,
non si densior aridis aristis
sit nostrae seges osculationis.

That was exactly necessary, thank you.

[nineweaving.livejournal.com]

Dear goddesses, I had to read that thing in grad school (one of the many grave reasons I am not Dr. Nine).

But shouldn't someone with a name like Wigglesworth write apologia for the Flying Spaghetti Monster?

Number the Strand upon the Strand,
And Sauces of the Pot;
and do thy work with Spoon and Fork,
to ladle every Jot;
Take all the Cheese, if so thou please,
and Meatballs rich insert:
Yet shall His Sauciness still grace
to leave Room for Dessert.

Nine

[gaudior.livejournal.com]

...that is the best thing.

[larryhammer]

I suspect the Church of the Subgenius has more mineable scriptures for these purposes. I mean, they actually are an apocalyptic religion, unlike FSM.

---L.

[rushthatspeaks.livejournal.com]

*applause*

*with throwing of bouquets*

[negothick.livejournal.com]

Bravo! We need MORE Hymns to the Flying Spaghetti Monster. What a perfect filk--Cheese, indeed.
But given the strangeness of some of Wigglesworth's conceits, maybe he read Donne. And he was born the year that Donne died. Hmmm. . .what an unfortunate transmigration that would have been.

I lived in Wigglesworth for one session of Harvard Summer School. I thought of the poem frequently.

[rushthatspeaks.livejournal.com]

I devoutly hope Donne would have hated him. I do think Wigglesworth read Donne, yes.

[lookfar.livejournal.com]

I hear that you are trying to buy blue hair dye in DC/noVirginia. Not sure if your exact brand is available, but I get mine at Sally Beauty supply. There are a number of locations here in Arlington/Fairfax and you can probably find them online. Happy dyeing!

[rushthatspeaks.livejournal.com]

Thank you! I shall try them.