Saving

Sometimes, when asked if I have any goal in life, I answer that I want to be awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature. That may seem a less lofty aim, now that Bob Dylan has won it. But so far, the closest I myself have come – and in fact the only time I ever wrote anything that won any prize – occurred when I was still at school in England. At that time, not long after World War II, Britain was in sore financial straits, and people were being urged to invest in their country by buying National Savings Certificates – equivalent to the Government “Bonds” which were heavily promoted in the U.S. during that War. One part of the campaign was a “Poetry Competition” which offered a small cash prize, and a chance for the winner to recite their winning piece at a gathering attended by a host of local dignitaries.

The main rule of the competition was that every entry must be entitled “Raising the Savings Flag.” Yes, I did win the First Prize. My entry was rather unusual, since it was in a form I more or less invented. It had seven stanzas, and each stanza had three rhyming lines. Here is a sample:

To save some for tomorrow is an act without regret,

For today’s quick-spent abundance may become tomorrow’s debt,

And the future seems a long way off, and easy to forget.

Forgive me for indulging in the luxury of sharing all this with you – since it is my first such opportunity in 80 years. But my most enduring recollection of that episode in my literary career concerned finding myself in a situation in which someone in authority was telling me exactly how certain words in my own poem should be spoken. And what I most clearly remember was my own feeling of indignation at having some unqualified person – not my English teacher but my Art teacher – being given power over me in a matter of literary creativity. Obviously, it was not enough for her that I had won the Competition, nor for the Headmaster who had appointed her (an unforgettably imposing figure named Mr. E.W. Maynard Potts). In their minds, I would be representing the School (then called Hendon County School, but which still exists, after various incarnations, and is now known simply as Hendon School). So, by standards then prevailing, the School must have a hand in rehearsing and auditioning my performance. Happily, all went right on The Night, and my poem was later published in our school magazine, and in those of several other schools in the District.

Of course, “Saving” has, in our culture, had significance far more broadly than just concerning money. Since the advent of Christianity, an idea has prevailed that believing in the right things, and abstaining from bad behavior (also known as “Sin”) is the most direct method of saving oneself from an undesirable afterlife (also known as “Hell”). The accepted noun for attaining this status is “Salvation.” Jesus is referred to as the one who saves, or “Savior.” Many hymns are based on this idea. One of the best known is called “Amazing Grace,” and was written by a man, John Newton, who had much to be saved from, particularly his extended involvement in the slave trade. Like “Salvation,” “Grace” is another word which connotes being spared a sinner’s otherwise-deserved punishment.

Hispanic culture and language are much more direct in using religious terms than those of the Anglo-Saxons. The name of a town in Texas – Corpus Christi – means literally “Body of Christ.” The word “Salvador” means “Savior.” And there are towns, and even one whole country in Central America, which have incorporated that word into their name. North American culture has tended to be more flippant with such concepts – at least permitting such ribaldry as “Jesus Saves, at Bank of America.”

But the word “Salvation” took on a new meaning with the founding in London – in 1881 by a Methodist Minister named William Booth – of a group of evangelical volunteers who adopted a military configuration, and became known as the Salvation Army. They were usually seen to be preaching in the streets, braving the harassment of hecklers and even of stone-throwers. Gradually they gained some degree of acceptance, partly by taking well-known popular songs, and giving them new “holier” words. When he was criticized for using this tactic, “General” Booth is said to have responded, “Why should the Devil have all the best tunes?”