Glory

Some say an army of horsemen or footmen or rowers

Is the most beautiful thing over the coal-black earth,

But I say it is that thing, whatever it is,

That one loves and desires. Sappho (630-570 b.c.)

I watched Glory again yesterday and something struck me. It's hard to describe exactly, which is probably why it was shown rather than told, but how beautiful it was when the black soldiers assembled in formation and ran head long to certain death in battle. They were no longer slaves to any man or to anything, not even themselves. They had freely given up all that this world has to offer for something greater than themselves and in doing so became something entirely different from what they were before. It was this becoming that struck me as beautiful.