It is hard to say when the term ‘leisure’ first came to the lexicon of the ‘civilised’ world. Could it have been an activity associated with primitive men and women, at the dawn of history, sitting still and gazing into the night skies, after a day of struggle for food and shelter? Or the mood and reflection of stillness inspired by the sun, the moon, the wind and the elements?
The Native Americans, Indians, Mayans, Assyrians and the Egyptians all speak of the wonder of the universe triggered by leisure. Yet, Charles Darwin’s theory of the struggle for existence and Thomas Hobbes’ description of the state of Nature as ‘poor, nasty, brutish and short’, would plainly rule out the idea of a relaxed state of mind, born out of leisure, which does not seek a definite and purposeful activity. For if action is treated as a virtue in itself, then how could leisure be valorised as an attractive proposition? The links between philosophical world views in the West and East and the idea of leisure have not been sufficiently explored, at least not by the popular mind.
The great empires of the world, yoked to battles, pillage and rapine would clearly rule out any prospects for leisure. Some believe that the great Greek city states such as Athens failed to survive against foreign onslaughts such as those by the Persians because of their dedication to the efflorescence of the arts and the idea of leisure that are said to underpin cultures and civilisations.
Paradoxically, the heyday of the empires witnessed the great schools of philosophy. The age of Pericles brought to the fore an age of art, literature and culture that was surely born out of leisure. The physical prowess of Sparta may make an appeal to some, but one remembers the age of creativity of the Hellenic civilisation, typified by the British Romantics and the mid-Victorians as the rich legacy of Hellas.
While meaningful and ethical action is regarded as being essential to a life of virtue as seen in the Bhagvad Gita as well as in the vedas, upanishads and the puranas, the same philosophy could not have emerged without embracing the spirit of leisure. For it is in the forests, in the hermitage, away from the hustle and bustle of courtly life and the life of mercantile activity that reflections took birth out of leisure, leading to the rise of great philosophies.
Thus, it may be seen that action and leisure went hand in hand in the West and the East. The ancient Greco-Roman civilisations, although spoken in one voice, have had their internal differences. It is when we come to the Romans that the idea of leisure assumes the nature of wild bacchanalian kind. The orgiastic partying and drinking that one witnesses in the imperial fiestas, and the gladiatorial battles in the colosseum, especially of the later Roman Empire, came to be derided by Victorian thinkers such as Matthew Arnold as the legacy of barbarism and not leisure.
While some would carp on this adage as one of Puritanism, others would see it as a necessary measure, an anti-dote to mindless indulgence of the sensual kind. Arnold of course attacked the Victorian elite culture as one of philistinism.
If the Italian Renaissance was dedicated to the idea of leisure, then the mid-Victorian England, devoted to ceaseless action of protagonists such as Ulysses of Alfred Lord Tennyson would eschew the pursuit of leisure and term its adherents derisively as ‘lotos eaters’.
It is surely Adam Smith, Bentham and the Utilitarian philosophers of Victorian England who heralded the rise of Industrial capitalism. England’s place under the sun, and the rise of Britannica would be seen aligned to the dominant ideas of the age. The sociologist Max Weber would explain this phenomenon in his book The Protestant Ethic and the Spirit of Capitalism: Action per se for the pursuit of wealth, anchored to Protestant theology, according to Weber, became the load star in capitalism and led to the imperial mission of the West.
Leisure thus came to be associated with idleness. Money-making and commercialism became the watchword. Never mind, the cross-country weekend picnics in salubrious settings, immortalised in Victorian art; the same could be witnessed in the contemporary automobile advertisements in India and abroad.
When we travel today, it is not for the pursuit of leisure; we carry the world with us, the world of gossip, sports and politics, useful they may be in themselves. No wonder, the Sundays and the holidays leave us exhausted and more often than not, lead to ennui and depression.
Fruitful leisure cannot be equated with hedonism of late capitalism prompted by the travel and tourism industry. Leisure must delink itself from the dictates of Mammon and rediscover its meaning in the contemporary world. Only then could leisure lead to creative ends.
sachimohanty@yahoo.co.in