Discovering the Lost Generation

School is over. The days of waking up early, fumbling with my uniform, and somehow dragging myself to the edifice of learning I call school are past. Aside from my AP classes, I had long ceased to care about the other subjects (mainly math and science), yet the amazing literature I encountered in the aforementioned AP classes (both in English and in Spanish), has left me craving for more. On a recent visit to the library, I found myself in the classics section, which had previously been quite daunting. To condense my rambling narrative, I have discovered my love for the modernist authors, particularly Hemingway and Fitzgerald. Known as the Lost Generation, the literature of this period was marked by desolation, disillusionment, and despair.

World War I had left the world in tatters, and the young men that walked away from that horrible struggle found themselves changed forever. The widespread destruction and dehumanization of the individual was not something they could forget, though they tried to by plunging their despair in wild parties, excessive alcohol, and a generally vapid lifestyle.

Perhaps you are wondering why I am fascinated by such depressing literature. Most of the works end in despair and an aching unhappiness tainted by a lack of self fulfillment. Yet, these works are in their way redemptive because they highlight the impossiblity of the human condition without hope. Hope makes dreadful situations bearable, it allows a person to persevere through the most trying circumstances. When this hope is placed in anything other than the love of God, the result is the utter despair of the Lost Generation.