A New Mythology: Philosophy Prof Highlights Modern Parallels with British and German Romantics

Feeling a little lost these days? A bit disconnected from others, from nature — and maybe even yourself?  

You might have a thing or two in common with the Romantics, a group of artists, poets, and philosophers who were part of an intellectual movement that originated near the end of the eighteenth century. Romanticism rose across Europe out of an upside-down world that was reeling from the American and French Revolutions, when the glimmers of what we now call democracy felt fragile and the bleak intellectualism of the Enlightenment was coming up short. 

Even though the Romantics were writing more than two centuries ago, when we return to their work today there’s this sense of relevance and immediacy. The problems they were going through are very much the same problems we’re experiencing today. 

It was a period marked by crisis, by feelings of separation and isolation. But the Romantics — think: Wordsworth and Coleridge in Britain, and Hölderlin and Novalis in Germany — sought to remedy this by challenging traditional forms of rationality and philosophy. They believed that people had neglected the powers of the imagination for far too long, and that it was only through integrating reason and imagination that humans would collectively progress. 

“Even though the Romantics were writing more than two centuries ago, when we return to their work today there’s this sense of relevance and immediacy — and even intimacy,” says Owen Ware, an associate professor in the Department of Philosophy who studies Romanticism. “The problems they were going through are very much the same problems we’re experiencing today.” 

Ware has long been interested in understanding the conditions needed for humans to develop moral character; he explains that the Romantics — particularly the Early Romantics — believed that the modern experience was really one of fragmentation.  

“If we’re fragmented, we might not be at peace within ourselves,” says Ware, “or we may feel cut off from society, or like the world around us has become alien or estranged. The Romantics were working in times of incredible social and political upheaval, and they do a remarkably good job at diagnosing the problem and looking for ways to overcome this feeling.”  

It strikes a chord. Where Wordsworth once wandered lonely as a cloud, these days we drift through the Cloud in solitude. 

But Ware thinks we could learn a lot from the period. 

The Romantics believed that to find wholeness, both individually and as a society, people need to cultivate their sensibilities — and that the key to doing this is through art. So, the Romantics didn’t just write essays explaining their philosophy. (Though there were essays aplenty.) They put it into practice, painting rich, sweeping landscapes and writing poetry, novels, music, and operas designed to stir the senses and evoke emotion, celebrate the power of human imagination, engage with stories from the past, and establish new ones. 

“For the Romantics, art has the potential to provide an experience that can change you,” says Ware. “And it’s why mythology is so important for them — because myth has its source in the human imagination, and it can express what is essential about us: our ability to tell stories and to create.” 

In his new book, Return of the Gods: Mythology in Romantic Philosophy and Literature, Ware explores the ancient mythological systems and traditions which influenced the Romantics. He points out that they don’t just privilege one system; because myth is a natural expression of the human imagination, the Romantics seek it all, and they look to Greek, Persian, Indian, and others for inspiration.  

Art has the potential to provide an experience that can change you. And that’s why mythology is so important to the Romantics — because myth has its source in the human imagination, and it can express what is essential about us: our ability to tell stories and to create. 

The book is also the first of its kind to put British and German Romantics in conversation on the topic of mythology; though they were living in different parts of Europe, Ware posits that there are striking parallels between the two. 

“In some cases, they’re saying the same things at the same time without even knowing of each other’s existence,” says Ware. “So, there’s some detective work going on in the book, and I try to go back and trace those common sources.” 

For Ware, to really understand the movement, he needed to both rely on traditional philosophy and take seriously the literature and poetry that inspired the Romantics. He says that there is the potential for a deep friendship between the two disciplines — which, in keeping with the Romantic ethos, are both needed to become whole.  

And it turns out that the relationship lands well with his students. As he was working on Return of the Gods, Ware was introducing the Romantics in his classrooms. He found that students responded to the themes of crisis and isolation, and they had rich conversations trying to answer to what extent one can overcome alienation through art. 

Inspired by the experience, Ware is now planning for PHL388 “Philosophy and Literature,” a new third-year course which will be offered this fall.   

Course themes will pick up on those from the period: crisis, fragmentation, isolation, and the imagination. Along with theoretical texts, students will explore poetry, novels, and ancient mythology from across cultures and traditions. 

“Incorporating the Romantics into the classroom changed my approach to teaching generally,” Ware reflects. “I want students to think about how they can connect theory to their own life, and I can see that it’s easier for them to do when they’re exposed to creative work. In addition to traditional philosophy, I’ve started to assign poetry, novels, and even films. Both my teaching and my research have become more interdisciplinary in that sense.” 

Ware says that he hopes that his readers and students alike can benefit from the creative solutions posed by the Romantics, and that expanding the boundaries of his own research can benefit his classroom as well.  

“Sometimes we need to be reminded that research isn’t one narrowly defined thing,” he says. “And the more I open my courses beyond narrowly defined philosophy, the more I learn from my students.” 

"Students don’t have preconceived notions of what a discipline is supposed to look like, what the boundaries should be. They move in and out of my classroom, bringing what they’ve learned in others. And I find myself coming back once again to that curiosity, and to a sense of openness and permeability.”