The Nature of Complaints

I feel as though I too may be treading ground tread once before in this post, but I too feel a great deal of distrust toward nature and her words. Put simply, nature is whining. Bemoaning the state of man is all well and good when you aren't responsible for its creation. Might she believe if you talk long and loud enough one might not hear the truth? Alan repeats himself enough times for this to certainly be a possibility.

For the truth is complaints are rarely constructive. They simply cover up the fact that instead of complaining one could have actually done something to aid in a solution. In a sense it could be considered a vice as well. Is not Slothfulness one of the seven deadly sins? What interests me greatly is Nature's neglect of this vice. Of course it is not an active vice sowing the seeds of discontent and depravity. But a slothful person desires not to work to be lazy. Does this sound like anyone we know in this story? I seem to remember Nature's own laxity in her duties, in her inability to do a job or even to oversee someone else do her job. Her laziness is the cause of all other vices. She is indeed the mother of us all. The mother of vice.

I maybe stretching it but I can't get the idea out of my mind that Alan is telling us that even this lady is flawed for a purpose. During the discussion of poets and the lies they spread Nature mentions, "Or, how the poetic lyre gives a false note on the outer bark of the composition but within tells the listeners a secret of deeper significance so that when the outer shell of falsehood has been discarded the reader finds the sweeter kernel of truth hidden within?" (140). She demeans the poets for they spread "Shadowy figments" and lies, and yet she too take on the poetic form in this poem. Shall we stripp away the outer shell? The beautiful extravagant clothes and complaining and notice that nature herself is flawed? If nature is flawed then how can we expect to be perfect.

She complains about the inner monstrosity of humans, of the vice they succumb to, and yet the one who fails to be productive is nature herself. Is not her complaining simply blame? And that seems unnatural for nature to demand restrictions on human nature. If one doesn't live a natural life isn't that a perversion of natural desires? Perversion seems key to monstrosity and makes me believe that nature's instructions are monstrous demands by a monstrous being.