“History is a nightmare from which I am trying to awake.”

— Stephen Dedalus in “Ulysses” by James Joyce

In Joyce’s landmark novel, “Ulysses,” his protagonist, Stephen Dedalus, is concerned about the brutal progress of history though there is always the power of art to put that history into order. I suspect that a lot of Americans are wondering if the year 2020 is a nightmare from which we would all joyfully awake. That might apply to any human being on the planet.

We have the pandemic, the subsequent assault on the economy, and the bitter divide between Americans that has sadly become commonplace. The coronavirus is surging back with a vengeance, and I would blame the extraordinary lack of fear or concern leading some to defiantly refuse wearing a mask, a strong defense against infecting others. Recently, a passenger who refused to wear a mask on an airplane was dragged kicking and screaming from the aircraft. A senior citizen was struck and killed after asking another man to put on a mask in a bar.

Why is this occurring?

Self-preservation is one of the strongest of human needs, so why are so many people not wearing masks in restaurants, or outdoor settings, admittedly safer, when attending a farmer’s market or a patio concert. I don’t understand. Is there something cowardly about wearing a face covering? Don’t first responders wear hazmat suits if the area is radioactive or contains the presence of a dangerous pathogen? Think about doctors in a village infected by Ebola, or those physicians and medical staff treating patients infected with the coronavirus. They wear protective clothing.

We might refuse to let the virus “dominate” our lives as the president said, but there really isn’t a choice, and the virus is out there, ready to infect anyone who is vulnerable. Think about it. The White House is the most protected real estate in the world. Despite that, the president, who knew at the start just how deadly the virus really was, and many of his staff members have tested positive for the virus. Some may have mild symptoms but remain highly infectious, and we don’t know what this virus will do in the future. Who knew in the 19th century that scarlet fever would lead to heart trouble in later years?

When I watched the public activities at the White House with few people wearing masks, I did wonder why the president wasn’t worried that he might lose many of his staff and even voters through such reckless behavior. Maybe he believed his own hype that the virus was just like the seasonal flu, which is simply not true — it is much deadlier than that.

I sincerely hope the president and his staff recover. American citizens, who lack the kind of access to medical help the president has, have endured enough bad news and uncertainty this year. Joe Biden’s speech at Gettysburg was a plea for unity, and I do hope it connects. The virus doesn’t care what political affiliation we may have. As the scientists have said, social distancing, hand washing and masks work.

What must add to the unease of any aware person is what is happening to the environment with super-hot fires in the West, including my home state of California, a hurricane threatening New Orleans yet again, and a serious warning by naturalist David Attenborough. His book, “A Life on Our Planet,” warns about the pending destruction of the Earth if humans don’t act immediately. It is somewhat reassuring that Attenborough is still confident we have time if we acknowledge the problem of climate change and respond appropriately. I hope Attenborough doesn’t suffer the fate of Cassandra whose predictions to the Trojans were not believed.

We know what happened to Troy.

The year 2021 can’t arrive soon enough. Can we blunt the curve of this virus and turn things around?

Michael Corrigan graduated from San Francisco State with an Master of Arts degree in English and creative writing. He was active in theater and attended the American Film Institute. He retired from Idaho State University as an instructor of English and speech communications. He has written several books, including “Confessions of a Shanty Irishman,” “Mulligan” and “These Precious Hours.” NPR broadcast his play for two readers: “Letters from Rebecca.”