The Best Part of the Solar Eclipse Wasn't the Eclipse
Today’s greatly anticipated, once-in-a-lifetime total solar eclipse was mostly a disappointment, at least here in Toronto. I was lucky enough to have the afternoon off work and had managed to obtain a pair of eclipse glasses thanks to well-organized family members in Kingston. Around 2:30 p.m., I ventured out of my apartment in St. James Town and looked up at the sky to see a partial eclipse well underway. The sight was beautiful and awe-inspiring, a reminder of nature’s wonders. I ducked into a store and grabbed a large coffee, then went back outside to prepare for the main event: the total eclipse that would block out 99% of the sun.
Sadly, I had seen the best view of the eclipse I was going to get. Minutes after buying my coffee, the sun disappeared behind a thick wall of cloud and stayed there for most of the eclipse, including its peak at 3:20 p.m. I parked myself on a bench at Parliament and Bloor, put in my ear buds to listen to Holst’s The Planets (following such mood-setters as Iron Maiden’s “Total Eclipse” and of course, Bonnie Tyler’s “Total Eclipse of the Heart”), and waited in vain for the clouds to clear enough to see the total eclipse in all its glory. It was not to be.
To be sure, the darkness that plunged over the city at 3:20 was like nothing I had ever seen. Streetlights turned on, drivers activated their headlights, birds started chirping like mad, and murmurs of excitement grew from people scattered around. It was a memorable moment. But the eclipse itself was totally hidden. Soon it began to wane, the sky brightened, and the once-in-a-lifetime event was over. I walked away and bought some groceries. Occasionally the sun would peak out from behind the clouds. The longest sustained view I got was around 4:20 p.m., by which time the moon only covered a sliver of the sun. The universe had finished its great spectacle, but clouds mostly blocked it from Torontonians. The sky clearing only when the eclipse was almost done was a frustrating example of Murphy’s law.
All the same, the eclipse was a fun experience. In large part due to the clouds, the best part for me wasn’t even the eclipse itself. Rather, it was the all-too-rare sense of community I felt with people in my neighbourhood: the feeling that we were united by something bigger than ourselves.
St. James Town is one of the most densely populated neighbourhoods in Canada, yet it can be easy to feel isolated—an experience common in large cities. Much of the population are recent immigrants who speak a variety of different languages, which can sometimes feel like barriers to communication. In the excitement of the eclipse, however, we spoke to each other more than I can ever remember. People easily struck up conversations with me, and I with them. We were all joined together by enthusiasm for the wondrous spectacle in the heavens. For once I felt like I was really part of my neighbourhood, not an atomized individual.
Feelings of isolation have become more widespread amid the deepening crisis of capitalism. In a recent article for Communist Revolution, Marcus Katryniuk discusses the role of our economic system in contributing to the loneliness epidemic. “Capitalism has broken apart communities and destroyed traditional areas of social interaction,” Katryniuk says.
The daily grind of capitalism drains away the capacity people have for social interaction. Workers drag themselves to work, spend their entire day at a job they hate, and are so exhausted by the time they’re done that the only thing to do is to rest up for tomorrow. This is especially true for young workers who, on average, put in eight and a half hours of unpaid overtime per week.
Things haven’t always been like this, even within living memory. In the 1980s, American sociologist Ray Oldenburg coined the term “third place” to describe community based social relationships. These are supposed to be areas distinct from the “first place” (home) and “second place” (work) where people go to socialise.
Traditionally, people would go to bars and cafes not just to grab a drink, but to meet strangers and spend time with friends. Social clubs used to be more prevalent than they are now, and community halls were generally more active. Barbershops and salons still act as pillars in some communities. Trade unions were also once very active in organising social activities. In countries with strong labour movements, like Germany, workers’ organisations were involved in nearly every layer of cultural life.
Having access to these kinds of spots clearly benefits mental health. But for a lot of people, they just don’t exist anymore. Most communities today are atomized, and there aren’t many places left where people commonly go for the sole purpose of socialising.
Some of these places that are still around are constantly threatened by market pressures. Big businesses force their way into communities and make it impossible for many beloved local establishments to keep running. For workers who live in expensive cities like Toronto and Vancouver, it’s no longer surprising to find out that your favourite restaurant is about to be replaced by a luxury condo development. The situation has only gotten worse after COVID. Lockdown forced many cafes, bars, theatres, and other places for entertainment to shut down.
That’s certainly how things feel in my neighbourhood. The lack of places to socialize contributes to that feeling of isolation. The solar eclipse provided a brief unifying event that turned the neighbourhood itself into a social space. You saw the same kind of thing when, for example, the Toronto Raptors won the NBA championship. But after these events are over, we drift back into our atomized spaces and return to the daily struggle to survive—the struggle to pay for rent and groceries and keep our heads above water as the cost of living soars.
But as Katryniuk notes, capitalism in a contradictory way also brings people together:
As conditions worsen, workers will be forced to join forces and fight against the system as a whole. We can already see this in the growing number of communists globally. The fight for revolution will unite working class people together and give us something to live for. It gives us the ability to see past our immediate circumstances and imagine a better future.
Comrades of the Revolutionary Communist Party (RCP) have lately been doing some restructuring in our Toronto work, with a focus on building neighbourhood cells. These include cells in the Village, St. James Town and Cabbagetown.
Helping to build a cell in my neighbourhood has made me feel more connected to this community, a feeling that will only be strengthened as we continue to build. While events like the solar eclipse can momentarily bring people together, building a communist cell can truly unite a neighbourhood by organizing residents to overcome our common struggles. By overthrowing capitalism in favour of a democratically planned economy, we can improve our neighbourhoods and allow them to truly flourish for the benefit of all.
Workers everywhere want the same basic things: to have a good home; well-paid and fulfilling work; to be able to provide a good life for ourselves and our families, and to have the free time to each pursue our interests and develop ourselves to our fullest potential. That freedom from want and fear is impossible under capitalism. The only path to liberation lies through communism. To follow that path we need to build the RCP in our neighbourhoods and workplaces.