For him, again, the answer would be yes, for when he was sick in the "bush" with the standard fevers, he admitted to finding in himself something he had not done before - a desire to live! I do think he represents an extreme case of the civilized - that is, where one was supposed to stay in control of one's emotions and desires at all times. He did not, but he knew he was doing wrong by not doing so, which explains to a great extent why he remained a Catholic - the guilt was genuine, and he welcomed God's stamp of approval.
What Greene was really grappling with is what is called the Protestant Ethic, which 19th century sociologist Max Weber used to explain the rise of capitalism. Capitalism is based on the re-investment of excess capital into business and industry. In the past, Weber claimed, people didn't invest - they spent, often on foolish and lavish things. But with the development of the Protestant Ethic - what we in this country ascribed to the Puritans, even though it was much more widely spread - there was often plenty of cash left over, not because the strict Protestant intended to invest it, but because he was forbidden by his ethic to enjoy it. As a sinner, he was supposed to work hard and deny the call from his sinful body to rest. But as he worked hard, he made excess capital. But he could not spend it on pleasure, either. The question then became: what to do with the extra money? As the reader can see, this led to investment, larger companies, a greatly expanded world economy - in essence, to the world of expanding markets and investment we have today.
But the new system, which came about at first by accident rather than premeditation, demanded that one forewent pleasure for today for gain later; in other words, the Puritan doctrine of self control and denial of pleasure had to be maintained in the face of ever-increasing wealth and temptations. This brought about the modern form of guilt, and with it, unhappiness. This was Greene's world and what he was trying to escape.
One can follow the self- hatred promulgated by the Western Elite from the 19th century colleges of Oxford and Cambridge right down to the Self - hate of the politically correct multi-culturalists (I contrast them with compassionate multi-culturalists, who approach from a positive rather than punitive perspective). And throughout this stream, the idea of the Edenic primitive, begun in earnest at the start of the industrial age, has grown. But for those who have gone into the "primitive," only a very strong predisposition for this myth can keep them hanging on to it. Greene himself spoke of the greedy chiefs, the squabbling porters and always the disease and filth of the backcountry of Liberia. And yet, at the end, he clung to his primitive ideal. Yes, it had been rough, his 30 days in the jungle, but, as said above, he had come to realize that he had a will to live. I might add that he came to that realization after fearing for his own health outside of the sight of any doctor or hospital.
I have to compare his experiences with civilization and the primitive with my own. As stated a few blogs ago, I believe that living as the Indians did in the Amazon probably WOULD make me happier - if I had been raised there. As it was, in the real world, I felt (for two years, a lot longer than 30 days) that life was passing me by; that my precious youth was slipping away in a hammock in the heated afternoon. I usually had no pressures and things to do - which made me antsy after a while. I needed and need to progress to be happy, even though that happiness is always elusive, for to progress is ever to move on, to not stay in a "happy zone."
So, like Greene, I am affected by the Protestant Ethic. But unlike Greene, my world, and much of America's world, is not nearly so stifling. We can have fun; we buy boats and ski-dos and take vacations. We eat too much and don't worry about the sin of any of it. We work hard and we feel we deserve our pleasures. And we are connected with the bright, exciting world of instant electronic media.
Green sought the primitive, ultimately, not for comfort, but for authenticity; he felt that his "self" was a civilized phony; that even the suffering of the primitive and the meanness was a better thing than the artificiality of civilization. I believe in many ways he is correct, but in many ways, for us in America today, he is not: we can find the natural in nature; we can enjoy life without guilt; we can do exotic things like meditate and yoga without being treated like outcasts. In other words, we can expand beyond the boundaries of civilization without having to leave it. To those who remain trapped in it, I can see how it would be hell. But I think today in this country, we have at least a partial way out.
Does our superior health care, security and safety compensate for our loss of full autonomy in the work place and for unpleasant things like government taxes and laws? Does it compensate for a loss of closeness with nature? For me, the answer is yes and no. I know for a fact that, while I might prefer the primitive, that I can no longer live it. I wonder what the response in general would be to that question if people really thought about the differences and what it would mean in their lives. To me, I would rather live in both worlds, taking the best of both, but that is harder and harder to do. FK