Dead Poets Society

 “We don't read and write poetry because it's cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race. And the human race is filled with passion. And medicine, law, business, engineering- these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love- these are what we stay alive for.”

 -The Dead Poets Society, 1989 

If the phrase ‘art for art’s entire essence had to be succinctly encapsulated, this quote above would be the only way to do so. Literature, music, paintings, fashion and films are all forms of art. And the intricate strands of threads that weave together seamlessly to create the beauty of the art forms we marvel at- lyrics, words, streaks of paint and clips that freeze moments in time- have a simple yet confounding purpose. And what is that? It is to allow us human beings to pour our quintessential fibres out, transforming  our essence, our cores from amalgamations of the cells that make us up, into tangible manifestations of our souls. That. That is why art exists- to let us be who we are, unbound.

The Dead Poets Society is a film that constructs this exact narrative. It’s a spellbinding tale set in an all boys preparatory school that challenges traditional notions and depicts the true wonders of the human mind- once it's set free. 

Mr Keating, the new English professor at Wellton (the school in which the film is set) is one of the most remarkable characters in cinematic history, being characterised as an academic who goes beyond the restrictive cuffs of educational curriculums transforming his classrooms into spaces of self exploration, guiding his pupils onto a journey of self reflection and realisation as they navigate through their school lives, slowly picking up pieces of their identities along the way. Mr Keating’s style of teaching is anything but ordinary. On his first day as a teacher at Wellton, he instructed his students to rip out the first few pages of their poetry textbook, declaring that poetry can’t be defined as a mathematical tool which can be measured for greatness using a formula. Thus, symbolising that students should string together their own interpretations and views on poetry, rather than being pushed to adopt a certain paradigm. He then proceeded to encourage his students to stand up on their desks, declaring that it would give them a fresh outlook of the world, as all that’s needed for a fresh perspective is a new angle to look at things- which in that case, was the top of a desk. 

The impact Mr Keating has had on me personally, is insurmountable. If there was any person, dead or alive, real or fictional, I would like to have dinner with, it would most certainly be Mr Keating. I can imagine myself yapping fanatically, raving on and on about the power literature holds with someone whose heart beats solely for literature as well, due to crimson shooting through their veins, powered by the words of great writers inked into their coursing blood. 

To quote Whitman, "O me! O life!... of the questions of these recurring; of the endless trains of the faithless... of cities filled with the foolish; what good amid these, O me, O life?" 

To this remarkable piece of literary free verse, professor Keating astutely responded “Answer, that you are here- that life exists, and identity; that the powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse. That the powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse. What will your verse be?”  

So, dear readers, what will your verse be? Will your verse be centric around looking at art as some eminent medium of communication of the most tiringly complex themes, or will you look at it as a way for you to just be yourself and pour your heart and soul out, page by page?