In his essay "Reading," British poet W. H. Auden presents his idea of Eden, the ideal place for him to live based on his personal temperament, his background, and his particular likes and dislikes. Eden for him consists of a variety of historical and artistic and technological combinations from the past, with an emphasis on pre-20th Century British.
Eden Landscape: Limestone uplands like Pennines plus a small region of igneous rocks with at least one extinct volcano. A precipitous and indented sea-coast.
Climate: British.
Ethnic origin of inhabitants: Highly varied as in the United States, but with a slight Nordic predominance.
Language: Of mixed origins like English, but highly inflected.
Weights & Measures: Irregular and complicated. No decimal system.
Religion: Roman Catholic in an easygoing Mediterranean sort of way. Lots of local saints.
Size of Capital: Plato’s ideal figure, 5004, about right.
Form of Government: Absolute monarchy, elected for life by lot.
Sources of Natural Power: Wind, water, peat, coal. No oil.
Economic activities: Lead mining, coal mining, chemical factories, paper mills, sheep farming, truck farming, greenhouse horticulture.
Means of transport: Horses and horse-drawn vehicles, narrow-gauge railroads, canal barges, balloons. No automobiles or airplanes.
Architecture: State: Baroque. Ecclesiastical: Romanesque or Byzantine. Domestic: Eighteenth Century British or American Colonial.
Domestic Furniture and Equipment: Victorian except for kitchens and bathrooms which are as full of modern gadgets as possible.
Formal Dress: The fashions of Paris in the 1830’s and ‘40’s.
Sources of Public Information: Gossip. Technical and learned periodicals but no newspapers.
Public Statues: Confined to famous defunct chefs.
Public Entertainments: Religious processions, Brass Bands, Opera, Classical Ballet. No movies, radio or television.
That's all good fun, and it induces one to try his or her own hand at revising history to fit one's own unique proclivities.
Another version of this idealized editing of personal, social, and historical life appears in the somewhat recent trend of Steampunk. In this more limited redaction of history, a mainly Victorian ambience appears in stories, art, costumes, and "cosplay" events. Some people pour enormous amounts of time and money into personal Steampunk theater, and one is forced to admire some of the fascinating and even artistic overhauling of clothing, weapons, and even transportation.
Science fiction got into the act, with well known novelists like William Gibson (The Difference Engine) depicting alternate histories in which Steampunk really arrived in the 1800's (what if steam powered cars and basic mechanical computers--difference engines-- had been invented then?).
Jesus said, "Unless ye be born again. . . ."
All humans know deep down in their most inward, unsanctified territories that things are not right in the world. The world is not as it should be. Principalities and Powers tramp the world's history, resulting in such catastrophes as the Trojan War, the siege of Constantinople, Napoleon inflicting mass casualties on innocent villagers, trench warfare, fantasy-induced murder by ISIS Muslims. . . .
We know human flourishing can collapse in the face of Victorian slums, Aztec slavery, Stalinist mass murder, Roman crucifixion of Christians, Native American relocation. . . .
We know our own lives can be wrecked by poverty, anxiety, illness, ungrateful children, hateful spouses, terrible jobs. . . .
Art can embody this transfiguration we crave. Auden craved it. Steampunks crave it. Humans imagine alternative histories, do-overs, both personal and bigger. What if dinosaurs existed alongside humans (Dinotopia)? What if steam technology had been more advanced in the 1800's (Steam Boy)? What if there really was a place where law-keeping took place ungrudgingly (Utopia)?
Art cannot give us what we crave, and it can even delude us about what we really need. But read from a Christward perspective, art can become a crucial part of our lives, one of its functions being to remind us that we must dwell east of Eden, while reminding us, a la Auden, that we can still image Edenically. Art can imaginatively point to our hidden need and desire to be born again.