The Duality Of Solitude: A Reflection
Solitude first introduced itself to me in John Keats’ ‘O Solitude! If I must thee dwell’- a truly remarkable piece of literature which engages with deep melancholic thought. Associating Solitude with the ‘jumbled heap of murky buildings’ reinforces the dysfunction of Solitiude’s character. It is everywhere and nowhere, yet our instinctual hamartia covets Solitude to clutch at its familiarity.
The way Keats articulates this state of being truly resonated with me. It cemented in my psyche how collective isolation is grounded in the existentialism of life and the fear of the unknown. His sonnet reflects the human condition; how we retreat to comforts that isolate us from change and the discomfort that it brings. We all know Solitude - we embrace it.
Through Keats’ words, my understanding of Solitude morphed into what I can only describe as a mutual comfort. I felt a familiarity like Solitude knew me more than I knew myself. The dictionary, and what one typically thinks of as Solitude, is ‘a state of being alone,’ but I have never felt alone in Solitude’s company.
There is comfort in being able to identify and categorise your thoughts and feelings, hence my affinity to Solitude. It coaxed me into its comforting embrace, allowing me to seek refuge from a world riddled with chaos and hatred. It provided safety unlike anything else. With recent national and global chaos including the ongoing genocide of Palestinians, the racist riots against my community as well as the government’s silence and acceptance of both, I found the comforting embrace of Solitude.
Reflecting on how Solitude has been used and its effects on my community and environment, I have concluded that Solitude can be an introspective state of aloneness but can also be a political scapegoat. Given recent events, my family and friends have been forced to retreat both socially and politically, uncovering the politics of Solitude. Furthermore, the surge of social media has allowed us to become aware of the world; this exposure demonstrates how this tolerance for political Solitude is not just a local affair. Our anger and distaste toward this exploitation of a past comfort should not be silenced.
Synonyms of Solitude are loneliness, isolation, and seclusion. These nouns describe how ethnic minority groups within the UK and on a global scale are exploited during times of crisis. UK culture is undoubtedly built on the idea of individualism. In times of crisis, this results in the marginalised being further pushed out of the macro. Ergo, when the world becomes so politically unstable, Solitude is the only solution to survive.
Moreover, the exploitation of Solitude is reflective of the migrant story and how the UK silences those it once begged to come over, populate and rebuild. The colonial roots of Solitude are deeply entrenched within the British past and present, hiding under the false pretence of “diversity”, a clever marketing tool used by institutions, like the government, to distance themselves from the racial prejudices which plague the UK’s society. This tokenism erases the true reality of being a non-white or non-heteronormative conforming British citizen and reinforces a political prison; forced to reside with Solitude, forgotten and diminished.
The polarity of Solitude is ultimately tied to the agency it provides the occupant. Personally, Solitude no longer feels like a choice. The enforcement to hide and retreat to the outskirts of an unsafe world has renounced Solitude’s viable comfort. A once empowering force, Solitude was a consolation built on the backbone of choice. Now, its embrace suffocates. Solitude is no longer a friend but a foe.
Edited by Roxy-Moon Dahal Hodson
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