The new supreme fiction must give pleasure here and now, or such as we can make or discover for ourselves. Certainly, through the application of science and technology we have alleviated some of the woes that popped out of Pandora's box, thumbing our noses at father Zeus. Those of us who are fortunate to live within the new dispensation can expend the sweat of our brows on projects of our own choosing. More important is the permission the new fiction gives us to enjoy the world as we find it:
As when the sun comes rising, when the seaOur task, as difficult as it is, is not to suffer in silence awaiting a problematic Blessedness, but to expend our creativity and energy to make the crooked straight and the rough places plain. The place we live is what we love; it is neither heaven nor hell. It is here -- just here, in this world, just now -- that "love's characters come face to face."
Clears deeply, when the moon hangs on the wall
Of heaven-haven. These are not things transformed.
Yet we are shaken by them as if they were.
It is of course a fiction to say the world is good. The world is neither good nor bad, except in as much as we make it so. Our challenge is to find the real, to make a happy marriage with this our only Earth. The supreme fiction, when we have made it, will celebrate the light that burns in the heart of every cell, in the hummingbird at the vine, and in distant galaxies that turn on inhuman axes.
...To discover an order as ofWe can do all that angels can.
A season, to discover summer and know it,
To discover winter and know it well, to find,
Not to impose, not to have reasoned at all,
Out of nothing to have come on major weather,
It is possible, possible, possible...