“The Main Thing is to be Moved” : Lessons from Rodin and Rilke

Go to the Limits of Your Longing

God speaks to each of us as he makes us, then walks with us silently out of the night.

These are the words we dimly hear:

You, sent out beyond your recall, go to the limits of your longing. Embody me.

Flare up like flame
and make big shadows I can move in.

Let everything happen to you: beauty and terror. Just keep going. No feeling is final.
Don't let yourself lose me.

Nearby is the country they call life. You will know it by its seriousness.

Give me your hand.

-Rainier Maria Rilke, Rilke’s Book of Hours: Love Poems to God.


In the poem above, Rainier Maria Rilke offers incredibly powerful advice on how to live a life in Christ. Simultaneously simplistic and endlessly complicated, Rilke’s message is both inspirational and solemn: Live, do not be afraid. Be impactful, find meaning, seek truth. Persevere, experience boldly but stray not from the path. Seek greatness. Walk with the Lord in all you do.

The first pictured Rodin sculpture, which is nestled in Holy Cross’ Memorial Plaza, is outstanding in a similar way. It depicts Eustache de Saint-Pierre,  (as found in The Burghers of Calais, Rodin's best-known public monument) who was the oldest of the six burghers and the first to volunteer to be sacrificed to save his native city. The weight of this situation can be clearly felt, even today. The precise way the light hits it, the telling physicality of the figure, the depth of emotion, and the seriousness it exudes invite the viewer to adopt a contemplative attitude in a similar way that Rilke does.

The second pictured Rodin sculpture is active yet serene, depicting a youthful sprite. It is different from the somber Eustache de Saint-Pierre, but is equally enigmatic nonetheless. This is the genius of Rodin, able to portray a vast range of figures, perspectives, and emotions with the most careful technique and attention to detail. When observing his work, one is forced to pause, to think, to reflect, and to look beyond the present moment. Rilke incites this beautiful disruption in us as well, through the layers of meaning that lie beyond the surface of his words. 

It is not a well known fact that sculptor Auguste Rodin and poet Rainier Maria Rilke crossed paths numerous times during their lives. Their story, though, is one worth telling: it serves as a reminder for all of us at Holy Cross that we must orient ourselves to virtuous ends. Patience, strength, dedication, faith, purpose. These are traits that Rodin and Rilke embodied, and they are traits that should define us all. Moreover, Rilke and Rodin both embraced the apprenticeship model to develop their talents. They humbly grounded themselves in the greatness which came before them, acknowledging that this turn to the past is not only a worthy, but necessary endeavor. This is the lesson which I fear is missing from the classrooms of Holy Cross and from the hearts of Holy Cross students. 

But it is the precise mentality from which Rilke began. Before his poetic career took off, Rilke traveled to Paris in search of inspiration and became Rodin’s secretary. Immediately drawn to the great sculptor, Rilke was willing to take any opportunity to observe Rodin’s masterful artistry. After days, Rilke was deeply and seriously inspired by Rodin. After years, Rilke was able to craft a beautiful and poignant monograph of Rodin’s art and Rodin’s life. Rilke also dedicated the second volume of his breakthrough collection New Poems (1908) to his mentor, without whom, he acknowledged, the work would not exist. 

What Rilke took away from Rodin changed his life. Rodin taught him to see the beauty and terror of the world at the same time and demonstrated the importance of committing fully to one's craft in pursuit of perfection. For these reasons, Rodin left an indelible mark on Rilke, who, in turn, opened his eyes, heart, and mind and allowed them to be molded. Their relationship moved from one of master and pupil to one of equals. Both were visionaries in their own right. 

Rilke’s monograph of Rodin includes a similar story of inspiration from Rodin’s youth. Rodin was influenced by legends such as Dante, Baudelaire, and Michelangelo, names which are notably inscribed into the walls of Dinand’s reading room. Rilke recounted:

 “After having read the works of these two poets they remained always near him, his thoughts went from them and yet returned to them again. At the time when his art took form and prepared itself for expression, when life as it presented itself before him had little significance, Rodin dwelt in the books of the poets and gleaned from the past. Later, when as a creator he again touched those realms, their forms rose like memories in his own life, aching and real, and entered into his work as though into a home.” 

These great men left an indelible mark on Rodin, so that he could leave an indelible mark on Rilke. Thus is the cyclical and generational- amazing- tide of influence. This is the kind of mark that a liberal education should make on each of us. It is the mark that Holy Cross should leave on us- the kind of experience that we should seek. To cite Rilke’s above poem once again, we should feel inspired–almost terrified–at the necessary pursuit of truth. Objective truth, rooted in objective goodness. 

Like the Rodin sculpture, many important things are overlooked and undervalued by this campus. We overlook our history, as made evident by the thoughtlessness with which we pass our campus’s art and architecture everyday. We overlook the liberal tradition, and with it the radical principles of the American Founding which gave birth to us and our freedoms. Lastly, we overlook the centrality of our Creator, without whom none of this would exist. 

But this is the age in which we live: utilitarian and ideological, rapidly changing and swaying with the tides of popular and fleeting beliefs and moral codes. The superficiality of Holy Cross is reflective of the superficiality of the American culture which surrounds it. This is the student body we have become, but it’s not the student body we have to be. 

To mitigate this problematic contemporary tendency towards easy, seemingly obvious short term solutions and understandings, one must dive into the richness of history and those who came before. It is only within this context that we can make sense of reality, yet this crucial fact has been largely forgotten. Following Rilke’s advice, we must take life more seriously. We must seek to fulfill our unique purposes. We must stand firm, and focused, in the face of a culture that values change, a culture that is inconsistent and shallow. 

Holy Cross physically embodies a time of the past, and for this we are lucky. The campus serves as a reminder of the school’s roots. Our roots. Great wisdom is undeniably preserved here, so long as it continues to be recognized, and sought, instead of rejected. Yet, figures from history are being erased and discarded at alarming rates. Names are wiped off the slates of time, here at Holy Cross, and around the country. Rodin sculptures are carelessly glanced over, Rilke’s words fall on deaf ears. If we can no longer look to history for answers in which to ground our humanity, where can we turn?

 It is clear that the vast majority of American society is turning the wrong way. Holy Cross should turn back and look to the past. We all stand on the shoulders of those who came before. We must acknowledge that there is truth to glean from history and tradition.

As highlighted in Rachel Corbett’s book, You Must Change Your Life: The Story of Rainer Maria Rilke and Auguste Rodin, Rilke offers advice for how to find meaning; 

“Search for the reason that bids you to write; find out whether it is spreading out its roots in the deepest places of your heart. Then ask yourself, would you die if it were denied you to write. This above all — ask yourself in the stillest hour of the night: must I write? If the heart utters a clear, I must, then build your life according to this necessity, but be prepared to surrender to the imperative forever, for art is not a choice, but an immutable 
disposition of the soul.”

So notice it all, the art around you. Think about what came before, think about what exists now. Take it all in, reflect on your own talents in the context of that which came before, and then turn that passion outwards. What kind of art are you meant to make? What gives your life meaning? Who do you draw inspiration from? 

This is a deep, reflective exercise. One that requires a liberal education and awareness of the important things; religion, philosophy, and history as mentioned before. Holy Cross must do better to inspire these contemplations. 

During a time when people seek instant gratification, immediate pleasures, coddling, and exceptions, this task of the pursuit of meaning becomes even harder, almost unorthodox. Now, moral relativism rules the day, and with this, so does complacency, mediocrity, and a system of judgment which changes with the tide of popularity. What does it mean to be great in the modern age? 

According to Rilke and Rodin, to be great is to be focused, to better oneself and to grow in likeness to the image of God, and to take oneself and one's life seriously. Liberal education is the means through which this greatness can be cultivated. As Holy Cross students, we all have this special opportunity. It is our job to make the most of it. 

So I end where I began: In the words of Rodin, “The main thing is to be moved, to love, to hope, to tremble, to live.” This is how we become the people we are meant to be, how we find ourselves, and figure out our unique contributions to the world. The first step in this journey is to find inspiration in what is all around us. 

References 

“Go to the Limits of Your Longing” Rainier Maria Rilke, Rilke’s Book of Hours: Love Poems to God, 2005.

“Auguste Rodin” by Rainer Maria Rilke 1903, translated by Jessie Lemont and Hans Trausil, 1919. 

You Must Change Your Life: The Story of Rainer Maria Rilke and Auguste Rodin, Rachel Corbett, 2016.