“Hazlitt as philosopher is not without originality. As
for being philosophical in the ordinary sense, Hazlitt qualified for the label:
after years of quasi persecution and disappointments, on his deathbed and no
doubt thinking of his intimacy with art and literature, his last words were: `Well,
I’ve had a happy life.’”
I’ve always suspected the authenticity of the final words
attributed to Hazlitt, which, though bracing, sound either hallucinatory or the
creation of loving and highly imaginative survivors. Hazlitt had a positive
genius for self-generated dissatisfaction and unhappiness (which goes a long way
toward explaining his attraction to stupid politics – e.g., the French
Revolution and Napoleon). Arnold Bennett judged the words reportedly uttered on
the morning of Sept. 18, 1830, as “grossly untrue—a piece of bravado in the
menacing face of death” (The Evening Standard
Years, 1974). In the most recent
biography of the essayist, William Hazlitt:
The First Modern Man (2008), Duncan Wu doesn’t question Hazlitt having
uttered the words, but suggests they may have been the dying man’s reaction
to his son, William Jr., telling him he was soon to be engaged to Kitty
Reynell. More interestingly, Wu also suggests his final words were spoken “in
the same spirit in which, at one of the darkest points of his life, he celebrated
the inner freedom in which he had flourished.” He then quotes a passage from “Common
Places,” a brief essay Hazlitt published in The
Literary Review in 1823. Here is a portion of it:
“I have had nothing to do all my life but to think, and
have enjoyed the objects of thought, the sense of truth and beauty, in perfect
integrity of soul. No one has said to me, Believe
this, do that, say what we would have you; no one has come between me and
my free-will; I have breathed the very air of truth and independence.”
This sounds less like happiness than braggadocio, the
posturing of an arch-Romantic. Hazlitt’s final words echo in those of another
notably gifted unhappy soul, Gerard Manley Hopkins: “I am so happy, I am so
happy. I loved my life.” It sounds petty and quibbling to question the last
utterances of the dying. Goethe famously wanted more
light while Theodore Roosevelt wanted someone to turn off the light. I’ve been
present for several deaths, and heard nothing memorable, except if we believe
that every human death is memorable. I heard moaning, shallow breathing and long
sighs, sounds uttered a billion times before. I never heard anything so
inspired as Walter de la Mare’s “Too late for fruit, too soon for flowers,” or W.C. Fields’ “Goddamn the whole fucking world and
everyone in it except you, Carlotta [Monti, the comedian’s mistress]!” Literary
critics have no place at the deathbed except, of course, if they’re the ones
dying.
1 comment:
Randall Jarrell led off "The Boyg, Peer Gynt, the One Only One" with "'Well, I have had a happy life, said Hazlitt'", the first verse ending "They all died well; that is, they died."
As for light, Guy Davenport writes that Noah Webster's last words were "The room is growing tenebrous": the bereaved family had to reach for a Webster's. That seems fitting for a lexicographer.
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