II : LIII In Ruins

...
THOMASINA: (To Septimus) How is a ruined child different from a ruined castle?
SEPTIMUS: On such question I defer to Mr. Noakes
NOAKES: (Out of his depth) A ruined castle is picturesque, certainly.
...

Arcadia, Act I, Scene i. Tom Stoppard.

Since as early as 18th century and evolved well into 1920s, picturesque style has been the star of European gardening. Landscape designers recreates nature from the early emulation of landscape painters such as Salvatore Rosa, Poussin and Claude Lorraine, decorating manors with gazebos and other allegorical artifacts, presenting gardens as though a highly manipulated stage scenery, to the later Romantic manifestation of Jean-Jacques Rousseau's influences, reflected by a wilder and more realistic approach. Early in the first act of Stoppard's Arcadia, Lady Croom, young Thomasina's mother, couldn't understand the appeal of having her garden look "ruined", while Mr. Noakes convinced her of the picturesque nature of what he's doing. In the mean time, the hostess was worried about her daughter being exposed to the notions of sex too early and questioned the tutor-student duo in scrutiny. The quite witty Thomasina took the literal meaning of "ruin" and redirected the question to Spetimus, who then aimed the arrow towards the architect.

The Omnipotent Magician Jane Brown

Chatto, pp.384, 20

• THIS article comments on the style of Capability Brown from Guardian, a design with details down to "the right amount of sheep tastefully arranged" that Lady Croom much liked. 
• In Arcadia Stoppard discussed the augmented layers of designs from the perspective of Hannah Jarvis, revealing that the evolution of styles is never from the scratches, but is always influenced by our predecessors.

The wordplay never fails to put smiles on our face, and also makes us think about the deliberate "ruined" state that was popular with English gardening in early 19th century, which was supposed to reflect a sense of transiency in life.       

 
The real problem is: nothing lasts forever. Ancient cities, states, the glories of human inventions and accomplishments, hundreds of years of cultures, all burned down to ashes when disasters fell. Zeus' thunder is a metaphor here but the Greeks' view of life and religion is metaphorical to begin with. Nothing survives the wheel of life, not the plays by Sophocles, not the fountains of Troy, not the philosophers in the school of Athens.

Septimus: We shed as we pick up, like travellers who must carry everything in their arms, and what we let fall will be picked up by those behind. The procession is very long and life is very short. We die on the march. But there is nothing outside the march so nothing can be lost to it. The missing plays of Sophocles will turn up piece by piece, or be written again in another language. Ancient cures for diseases will reveal themselves once more. Mathematical discoveries glimpsed and lost to view will have their time again. You do not suppose, my lady, that if all of Archimedes had been hiding in the great library of Alexandria, we would be at a loss for a corkscrew?

Arcadia, Act I, Scene iii

 

Like Sisyphus' labour uphill, the process of human society might seem like pointless efforts that bound to end with doom. However, I believe each time Sisyphus pushed the rock uphill, his strategy evolves. There might not be happily ever after on the horizon, but our efforts are never for nothing, for ruins are the evidences of experience. Our life is merely a small segment of history, yet without each link, the chain would never be formed. Prometheus gave his children a sparkle of creation, with which we invent flashlights, so that we'll never be afraid of the oncoming storm.