Garry Wills ha escrito un
elocuente artículo, invocando la figura de Moloch, a propósito de la matanza
pertetrada por Adam Lanza en Newtown. Moloch, la terrible deidad de los
amonitas, acorazado en bronce y con cabeza de becerro, a cuyos brazos de fuego lanzaban
a los niños en sacrificio.
El artículo de Wills me ha
recordado otra invocación de Moloch en América: la de Allen Ginsberg en su
poema Howl (1956). Es sabido que
Ginsberg tomó esa representación de Moloch del film Metropolis de Fritz Lang, asociando al ídolo con la civilización
industrial.
Wills no le da esa
connotación, pero se acerca a la idea del sacrificio de los niños como ritual
de la civilización americana. En algunos poemas de los 60, Ginsberg apelaría a
la misma figura monstruosa para aludir a las muertes de niños inocentes en la
Guerra de Viet Nam:
“What sphinx of cement and
aluminium bashed open their skulls and ate up their brains and imagination?
Moloch! Solitude! Filth!
Ugliness! Ashcans and unobtainable dollars! Children screaming under the
stairways! Boys sobbing in armies! Old men weeping in the parks!
Moloch! Moloch! Nightmare
of Moloch! Moloch the loveless! Mental Moloch! Moloch the heavy judger of men!
Moloch the incomprehensible
prison! Moloch the crossbone soulless jailhouse and Congress of sorrows! Moloch
whose buildings are judgement! Moloch the vast stone of war! Moloch the stunned
governments!
Moloch whose mind is pure
machinery! Moloch whose blood is running money! Moloch whose fingers are ten
armies! Moloch whose breast is a cannibal dynamo! Moloch whose ear is a smoking
tomb!
Moloch whose eyes are a
thousand blind windows! Moloch whose skyscrapers stand in the long streets like
endless Jehovas! Moloch whose factories dream and choke in the fog! Moloch
whose smokestacks and antennae crown the cities!
Moloch whose love is
endless oil and stone! Moloch whose soul is electricity and banks! Moloch whose
poverty is the specter of genius! Moloch whose fate is a cloud of sexless
hydrogen! Moloch whose name is the Mind!
Moloch in whom I sit
lonely! Moloch in whom I dream angels! Crazy in Moloch! Cocksucker in Moloch!
Lacklove and manless in Moloch!
Moloch who entered my soul
early! Moloch in whom I am a consciousness without a body! Moloch who
frightened me out of my natural ecstasy! Moloch whom I abandon! Wake up in
Moloch! Light streaming out of the sky!
Moloch! Moloch! Robot
apartments! invisible suburbs! skeleton treasuries! blind capitals! demonic
industries! spectral nations! invencible madhouses! granite cocks! monstrous
bombs!
They broke their backs
lifting Moloch to Heaven! Pavements, trees, radios, tons! lifting the city to
Heaven which exists and is everywhere about us!”