One aspect of Vera’s story that I found very interesting comes from the Times (a newspaper?) article that she cut out and sent to Roland. The article’s author relates “Breton” (now known as the cultural region of Brittany in France) to “the legend of the submerged city,” or the ancient Greek city Atlantis that Plato discusses in his writings (161). The author proclaims, “One day the waters will recede and the city in all its old beauty be revealed again” (161). These “waters” are “the high tide[s] of war” that have submerged so many cities throughout Europe, including cites in the Brittany region of France, and of course, London, England (161). What first struck me about this moment is the imagery of a sunken city, wallowing underneath an unbearable weight. What else other than war could place a boot big enough atop London’s crown to push it under? Also, the article seems to allude to the reality of trench warfare taking place throughout the western front in France that conjures up images of entire cities of men submerged underneath a desolate wasteland of artillery, suffocating smoke, and chemical weaponry. Are we meant to see these entrenched men in some way analogous to the classical heroes like Odysseus, Achilles, and Aeneas wagging war in the names of their homelands?
Although, the article that Vera cut does not seem to focus as much on the people or men that are “drowning” in these trenches and cities. Instead, it is Greek art, classical literature that has been lost in the bellicose sea of World War I. However, the author of this hopeful news piece believes that “[t]here is fortunately no truth in the idea of sunken literature…It is an inalienable possession and incorruptible part of man” (161). Similarly, Vera notes just before she shares this article that her love of Greek did “[come] back to [her] in quieter days, more potent than life, more permanent than war” (160). It seems that Vera and British society treasure the Greek classics not only for their delight and instruction but perhaps in order to bring themselves and their “state” closer to the ideal state that Plato discusses.
The ideal of classical literature and the perfect state is hopeful, it is romantic, and it even rings true for Vera after the war in the sense that she returns to her love of Greek literature; however, there is something else at play in the Times leader other than a romanticizing of Greek literature and the glorious return of French and British intellectualism and culture. There is certainly a level of propaganda at play in this article. I do not mean to be cynical when I refer to this news clipping as propaganda. In fact, I think this serves as a rare example in which nationalist propaganda unites its respective citizens by rallying them around their shared culture, past, and institutions like that of classic literature, the Roman empire, and the academies throughout France and Britain that keep such values alive and well. Vera, and the author of the news clipping, remind their respective audience that there is something greater than war, there is a past to be remember before this terrible happening and a future that will take place after it. I would say that this news piece and even perhaps Vera’s letters serve as propaganda in that they support a nationalist wartime cause with a homogeneous message (more or less) of “we will be victorious” and rise above our enemies. The reason I do not find the article as a cynical piece of propaganda is because it does not “attack” or “essentialize” the Central Powers.
So, this leads me to ask, how do we define propaganda? Is it always negative, or essentialist? Can propaganda be romantic? Can the Greek classics be considered propaganda? Can we see Vera’s letters as taking part in any homogeneous nationalist message?