In search of Wisdom...

What I appreciate in Plato’s writings is that he insists that we escape the shackles of our individual assumptions and the perils of received wisdom and groupthink. The restless spirit of inquiry arising from the Greek humanists is the bedrock of western thought and the source of all scientific progress. Philosophy flourishes in an arena where insistent questioning places us in the uncomfortable position where no true and absolute answer exists. There is a distinction to be made between natural philosophy and religion, however, which the text omits to point out. While philosophy and theology both presume to answer the essential questions of human existence, philosophy promotes no fallacy of absolute truth. It does not claim to have the answer from some divine and inviolable source. In fact, the interposition of the supernatural diktat forestalls all contradiction or conversation and thereby, shuts down philosophical inquiry or at least, limits it to certain impassible frontiers. Another factor that can lead to confusion is that many terms are used in both philosophical and religious discourse, and yet refer to quite distinct, or merely analogous, concepts—as in “virtue,” “goodness,” “right” and their counterparts. Religious systems of thought (at least, those into which we are born) tend to reinforce our native assumptions and reassure us about the adequacy of a received world-view. But Plato teaches that philosophy inherently disquiets the mind—creates dissonance, outrage, disjunction—before its benefits can be enjoyed. We want to be the individual who acquires knowledge, but our actions, when actually confronted with a revolutionary worldview, prove what type of individual we are. Do we fight against knowledge that is new (gene modification, cloning)? Imagine for a moment that we lived in the time of Jesus, those of us who are Christian. How would we have reacted to his revolutionary teachings? While it inflates the ego to think that I would not stone him, the Gospels tell us that people voted to release a common thief in his stead. When the civil rights movement was reaching a fever pitch, Martin Luther King was killed. Recently, in Pakistan, Benazir Bhutto was assassinated for her beliefs. Human nature is wildly protective and irrational when cornered. When we cast a vote in November, will we base or decision based upon something shallow like the color of a candidate’s skin? Nearly as deeply rooted are ones political beliefs. I’ve often heard people make comments such as “If Hillary wins, I’ll leave the country.” But what do these candidates stand for? Where do you find their positions? What are your sources; are they reliable? When you watch the nightly news, is it to confirm your opinions or to seek objective information?

Identity Theft...

I find it supercilious that Henrietta Goodman has any internal dilemma regarding the use of life experiences of any acquaintances when she has no quandary stealing characters with elaborate histories. The appropriation of Penelope, Botticelli’s Venus, and Gretel are not completely appropriate – in Gretel’s case she refutes the incestuous insinuations by insisting that Hansel was not a literal brother figure. It does not relegate the fact that it exists, the use of a character with an established story means that you accept in some degree the themes, and symbolism encompassed by the character. Perhaps a less solecistical selection would have been little red riding hood, or Mary from the Secret Garden. I do understand, and sympathize, the deficit of strong female characters in the dogmatic world of Christianity. While a myriad of possibilities are available in myth and fairy tale they lack the credentials and solidity needed to be catapulted from the sphere of morality tale. As for Penelope who is known for her virtue in her husband’s absence – the poem “Penelope at the Wheel” might have been more relevant if it was Helen of Troy. I do not object to the use of characters created by other artists, or even based in legend, or folklore. I quite enjoyed the works of Margaret Atwood writing from Penelope’s view “The Penelopiad”, or The works of Gregory Maguire who has taken the ugly stepsister from Cinderella, the Wicked Witch of the West, and most impressively tied Lucretia Borgia to the Legend of Snow White.
More odiferous to my taste is the hijack of academia by the spirit of feminism; leading to the publication and praise of second rate works, such as Take What You Want. While I do believe in equal freedom for the sexes, I do not pardon the sin of adultery with the same impartial candor as a one night stand or a sexual awakening. For one who touts diligence as the main trait needed to be a successful poet, deserting her husband critically wounds her stamina. The Catholic critic, whom she honored with a poem rebuttal, was correct in his assessment of Ms. Goodman. I can easily see the comparison to Sylvia Plath a widely recognized name within the confessional poetry genre. Ms. Plath based her works on unpleasant and painful circumstances like suicide and miscarriage. Ms. Goodman’s confessions are an attempt at absolution for her guilt; they also echo her feelings of unimportance and peccability. Her belief that putting it in writing may add weight to her otherwise bleak life. The sexual overtones are indicative of repression, while her fixation on cultural correctness is liberating, her art is an attempt to defy the current social conventions that she finds so binding.
While I do find her use of words inspired in creating imagery, her general gist is that of a pseudo-intellectual wanting to appear as more than a failed songwriter, with a failed marriage, and the burdens of single parenthood. Rendered in print, with her fear of sexual fulfillment, Ms. Goodman reads as an immature adolescent rather than a seasoned voice of reason. Her ideas are unoriginal and heavily influenced by her college syllabus, and frankly been handled more adeptly by Louise Gluck, Sylvia Plath, and Emily Dickinson.

Desperate Times Call for Desperate Measures

Early civilizations must have watched with wonder the change of seasons, erratic weather patterns, and churning skies filled with constellations. Just as enigmatic, the seas encompassed the horizon and threatened to engulf terra firma. Modern emphasis on logic, empiricism and practical applications are rooted in the same quest for orderliness and rational understanding that impels less quantifiable fields of study like psychology, history, philosophy, or sociology. The scrutiny of the our ancestors increased our collective understanding of physical, natural, and mathematical sciences. From our neoteric perch it is difficult to recapture the mentality of an earlier era, in which man seemed at the mercy of his surroundings. Meteorology gives man an opportunity to anticipate and prepare for approaching weather systems, just as seismology and vulcanology ameliorate fear of the terrifying Titans of the nether world. With the aid of innovative technological advances man cannot control the forces of nature, but he can, at least, in part, anticipate and build bulwarks against them. This response to a very basic human impulse — the will to know the environment and control its destructive by-products; the will to understand and control inner space is just as compelling. After all, rage, prejudice, murder, greed, and war are not just plot motivations within The Iliad: the lust for power has been as disruptive to human progress as any shift in the earth’s crust. The mystery and finality of death fascinated and confounded then, just as it does now, more emphatically though, because death was always at hand. The search for immortality was all the more urgent and compelling. To the ancients, religion took the place of science. It is no surprise that generation after generation, rooted within the human psyche, the beguiling promise of everlasting life itself lives on.
The Greeks were the first to the see human mind and will as more determinative of the good society than other factors, including piety. Myths eventually became more palatable tales with psychological, social or philosophical implications. Socrates, Aristotle and Plato used myths to illustrate points about human nature and society, not as religious texts. One gets the feeling the philosophers are distinctly agnostic. This movement away from religious zealotry liberates human achievement. The invention of social sciences and philosophy offered some hope of understanding and altering the nature of man and society, steering humanity toward a utopian ideal quite out of keeping with natural instincts. According to Erich Fromm, an American social psychologist, “Humans have a need for a stable frame of reference.” Religion apparently fills this need. Humans crave answers to questions that no other source of knowledge can supply; only religion seems to hold this promise, for in spite of scientific advances, death remains an incorrigible enemy. It opens a gaping void which only imagination and faith can transcend. Fromm continues, “a sense of free will must be given in order for religion to appear healthy.” (Psychoanalysis and Religion, New Haven, Yale University, 1950) Currently we take refuge in some vague idea of ultimate goodness and purpose by espousing religious beliefs. This delusion by choice, provides meaning and makes sense of the world, as well as reduces the sting of death. We think we are the masters of our fate and become upset and self-destructive when we discover otherwise. Doesn’t that come from expectations rooted in humanism?
Judged by these beliefs the Iliad’s premise that Achilles has multiple fates is unreasonable to me. There is only one fate as a consequence of mortality and that is death. While fate and destiny are used interchangeably in our English lexicon, and thus appear synonymous in this translation of the Iliad, they are two distinct concepts. Fate implies an absence of choice in the circumstances or conditions of one’s life and is linked to death. Fate is an outcome determined by an outside agency acting upon a person or entity. . To rail against fate is an excersize in futility, a thought echoed in “Blasphemous Rumours” by Depeche Mode. Even the gods were constrained by fate. The goddess of the dawn, Eos, tried to give her mortal lover eternal life, but forgot to ask for eternal youth. Tithonos ended by turning into a wizened grasshopper, which suggests that immortality is not the natural state of mankind and must be accepted. Even gods can’t change this. Destiny, on the other hand, relates to specific actions or events that one must complete while alive. The destined individual is the chief actor in a scenario targeted to a particular end. This scenario is something unique and specific to himself. Furthermore, he is central to the drama. He must act willfully to achieve his destiny. In our modern culture, fate often makes its force felt in random senseless events, such as the assassination of John F. Kennedy or terrorist attacks like those of 9/11. The creation of heroes and monsters is perpetual.
On a smaller scale glitches in the mental apparatus that would lead a young girl to attempt suicide, militate against the idea of the divine. (After all, the girl in the song conforms to “God’s plan” for her life, and is still killed in an accident.) There is no rhyme or sense. As if to intimate that God is dead and people aren’t smart enough to realize it. Fatalism to the extreme, furthermore, the song implies that modern life is bereft of meaning. People despair because they don’t see that they are having any impact or could have any as individuals. This is because there is no room for the heroic. Education focuses on making people good cogs in the machine. Only organizations have influence and serve interests that are detached from daily life. These are quite opposite of humanist perspective. Individuals who want to succeed and attain power have to pander to the lowest common denominator. They must not step outside the lines of acceptability, so by definition they cannot be heroic. Even art is driven by economics these days. No one is willing to starve for his ideals. Money and possessions have corrupted all.
A similar tension existed in the lives of the ancient Greeks. They kept fighting the gods, and fighting the Fates, continually losing, but they didn’t surrender. They believed defiance was worthwhile. They didn’t give in to meaninglessness. They wanted to leave a legacy behind: immortality as individual glory. Death is ultimately coming and to the ancient Greeks the great beyond was an insipid, wispy afterlife in the underworld, only the frailest shadow of mortal life. So it is best that man should take advantage of the passions of life above ground while they are available. Enjoy them and use them to make a name for ones self that will live on. Even if punishment comes, by all means leave a legacy to mankind. The story of Prometheus illustrates this. He stole fire for mankind, became mankind’s benefactors and yet ended by being chained to a mountain and having his liver gouged out daily and eaten in front of his eyes by Zeus’ eagle. But wasn’t it worth it? He gave infinite comfort to mankind and lives forever in human legend. He was later set free by Hercules’ intervention—Hercules, the ultimate blasphemer who defied several gods and became a demi-god himself.
Today, humanity is facing the temptation to give into powerlessness. And yet, we hold to the Greek notion that we can improve life by our individual actions. All scientific discoveries, all courageous political acts, all revolutions in ethical and theological understanding, all artistic movements are built on confidence that individual actions matter and that man makes his own fate. Human progress is built on this notion. Today, as a complex, materially based culture, man has to give up something to make a stand and change course. We may have to give up some of our material comfort to preserve a livable natural environment. We may have to commit political martyrdom to change public policy for the benefit of the whole society. Those who have more may have to give up a bit of what they have so that the have-nots can attain a decent standard of living. One may have to live on the fringes of society in order to project the message it needs to hear. Defiance of fate often equates to defiance of social convention—it means crossing the line of the taboo with a purpose in mind (not just to shock or titillate) and bringing something meaningful back to one’s fellows at considerable cost. Socrates paid such a price--he was forced to drink hemlock; because he was perceived as corrupting Athens’ youth and being impious toward the gods. Having become so self-involved, we’ve lost a sense of society as a whole or the role the hero serves to re-form and reinvigorate it by transgressing convention. For American’s, patriotism equates to lock-step conformity, when it actually has more to do with courage and being faithful to conscience and vision. How, for instance, does the girl in the song respond to her brush with death? She becomes a religious conformist. What does she add to the condition of the world because of that? Potentially, a great deal, if only she could take that faith and do something practical to shake up the status quo based on ethical principles; but this is not typically how it runs and it is not what the lyrics imply. For too many people, religion is a vehicle that reinforces conformity and curses iconoclasm. It is merely a candied kind of fatalism, not so far removed from despair, postponing reformation to the afterlife, or turns the individual totally within himself or within his community. That is certainly not how it began. Jesus threatened the powers that stood by envisioning a Kingdom (beginning today, in this place) so different from the status quo. If he had been a harmless, otherworldly sort, they would not have executed him.
I question whether Greek heroism as depicted in the Iliad leads to social change. Surely, many of the warriors seem to see the pointlessness of the war, but are powerless to stop it. They try to live up to conventions of manliness and martial prowess, knowing that death may well await them. The greatest of them, Achilles, loses his dearest friend to the war and responds by committing a senseless act of physical desecration to Hector’s body—certainly an unconventional thing to do, but a self-absorbed one. The mercy he shows Priam in the end is probably more heroic than anything else he accomplishes. Perhaps the Iliad is fatalistic, but it does counsel readers to make the best of the situation in which we are enmeshed. If you are going to go down, go down with a bang that will resound through the ages. But I would say that the aspiration to defy the gods and the fates, in spite of the inevitable consequences, is an impulse that led to the great achievements of Greek civilization following Homer and inspired the very ethos of unlimited progress that is an essential component of Western thought. It is the very definition of the humanist impulse. The temptation to quietly acquiesce to one’s fate, then and now, means the breaking of the human spirit and the undoing of civilization.

Required Reading:

In her third book Voctoria Finlay has mined the historic literature for good stories; her debunking of the story of the curse of the Hope Diamond, for instance, is hilarious. She has also gone to the countries involved with each gem, and literally descended into the mines. She has funny stories, like being stalled in a taxi during an elephant parade in Sri Lanka (elephant parades are good for the sapphire business, as such a gem that has been worn on an elephant tusk is believed to have been blessed by Buddha himself). She has undergone no small amount of risk on these excursions. She skillfully interviewed sometimes reticent subjects; some from within the mines, others within the marketing, trading, and gem cutting fields. The historic and social results of our fascination for these useless rocks ("You can't eat them, you can't read them, you can't shelter under them ..." she quotes her Burmese taxi driver as saying) are on display here, as colorful and surprising as any of the gems themselves.

Reading for pleasure...

Sounds kind of dirty, but I admit a guilty pleasure is well worth it this time of year. My most recent find was a debut novel from Elizabeth Kostova which contains elements from many of my favorite genres - thriller, suspense, mystery, historical fiction, and vampire lore. It is no surprise that this intelligent story was a very entertaining read. Though I feel that the story concept and development deserve five stars, I feel that there are a few important flaws in this book which put it into the four star category.

First the good: I really enjoyed the historical facts surrounding the Ottoman Empire and Eastern Europe that Kostova weaved into her tale. I also loved the way she used letters to reveal the more thrilling aspects of the story bit by bit. This kept me in that "I'll just read ten more pages" mode on many a late night.

Now for the problems: The first 300 pages of this book were very compelling and hard to put down. Somewhere between page 300 and 450it began to feel like Kostova had an old graduate school dissertaion on the migration patterns of monks in the 15th century lying around so she decided to work it into the story. Wow did that slow the pace... I don't have a problem with the storyline taking the characters on a search for the history of these monks, its just that Kostova occasionally strayed across the line between entertaining fiction and dry academic research...until after about 600 pages of this nonsense, we finally pry apart the gravestones (duly pausing to note how the dust of the centuries has settled just so on the fading inscriptions of the musty crypt) and learn the terrible truth of Dracula's horrible plans to create undead denizens who will Duh-Duh-DUUUUHHNNN!--CATALOG HIS LIBRARY! (As Dave Barry would say, I swear I am not making this up.) As it turns out, the Prince of the Undead is a bit of a bookworm. Who knew?

Whenever she has written her characters into a corner the author adds another mysterious book into the pile, not once, not twice, but several times. Everyone in this novel is a bookworm, for the same reason that everyone acts, thinks, and talks the same: because everyone in this novel is essentially one character, the author herself. Romanian peasant, Turkish professor, expat teenager--read a line of dialogue at random, and you'd never be able to guess who is who. When you pick up the book, it is often a bit confusing to figure out where you are, not because there are so many narrators, but because there are so few voices. One imagines the author perhaps putting on now a pair of Groucho glasses, now a fez, now tying a kerchief around her hair, as she evokes one character or another, but the writing never changes. Neither do the characters themselves--the protagonists are all secular, rational people, who, when they find themselves in a vampire story, simply shrug and reach for a crucifix and a silver bullet. What they are experiencing in picking up that crucifix--and what it might mean to their beliefs of the world and how it works...are subjects that are never touched upon. Heaven knows, an author with a certain curiosity about character and psychology, to say nothing about metaphysics, might have spun a wonderful novel out of this material, we do get a three page diatribe about the nature of evil. But psychology and character didn't seem to be as important as the lists of cities to visit that define the plodding bulk of this book.

Even Dracula's little hobby of distributing those dragon books to young historians to rouse their curiosity, then trying to kill them if they actually start to do research on them, might have become a window into a vain and endlessly bored mind, giving himself a little thrill to while away the centuries. Here, it's just another illogical plot contrivance, vanishing into the swarming multitudes of its fellows.

Perhaps the biggest gaffe is the ease with which Drakulya is disposed, we set up a super villain, and a ray of light kills him, (seriously WTF), surely in thousands of years he would have been able to dodge a silver bullet or two. And um I hate to say it but the silver bullet was for werewolves.

All of that said, my opinion as an avid reader of such stories is that this is an excellent book, well worth reading. I am sure that it will have wide appeal.

A Read to remember

The beginning of a trilogy by Garth Nix, wait what was that Mr. Nix, two more books are slated for release in 2010 and 2011!



Get the details here:




http://www.amazon.com/gp/blog/post/PLNKNKY3YXHEOS9W

Further Required Reading

From Publishers Weekly
Leaving his ever-popular and ever-expanding Amber series behind for the nonce, Zelazny delivers a cheerful, witty, well-crafted fantasy narrated by Snuff, dog-companion to Jack the Ripper. It seems that Jack is in fact a sorcerer and his gruesome exploits were perpetrated in the service of his magic. But the Ripper's killings are tangential to the tale of an upcoming struggle between magical personages. In a rare occurrence, the cosmic forces are in alignment, permitting an opening for the Elder Gods to return to Earth. "Openers" are contending with "closers," who want to keep the Elder Gods shut out. Snuff recounts the day-by-day preparations as players size up the competition, gather their magical arsenals and make and break alliances. Snuff himself maneuvers among other familiars (a cat named Graymalk, a snake called Quicklime, etc.). An instantly recognizable gothic compliment of characters includes a mad doctor trying to reanimate a patchwork corpse with lightning, a werewolf named Larry Talbot and a "Great Detective" who haunts the sidelines. Zelazny handles this material with a charm few can match, and while this novel does not approach the depth of his best work like Lord of Light , its deft, understated good humor and spare, poetic prose reaffirm Zelazny as one of fantasy's most skilled practitioners.
Copyright 1993 Reed Business Information, Inc. --This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title.

Required Reading

In the wake of the 9/11 tradgedy, and its subsequent anniversary --

Editorial Review From Library Journal:
In a startling departure from her previous novels respected Canadian poet and novelist Atwood presents here a fable of the near future. In the Republic of Gilead, formerly the United States, far-right Falwell-type ideals have been carried to extremes in the monotheocratic government. The resulting society is a feminist's nightmare: women are strictly controlled, unable to have jobs or money and assigned to various classes: the chaste, childless Wives; the housekeeping Marthas; and the reproductive Handmaids, who turn their offspring over to the "morally fit" Wives. The tale is told by Offred (read: "of Fred"), a Handmaid who recalls the past and tells how the chilling society came to be.

You are what you read!?

In order to analyze, one must comprehend; in order to comprehend, one must relate to the subject or emotion invoked by the author. In "Reading: The Most Dangerous Game", an essay by Harold Broadkey, the obscurity of reading itself and it's effect on society and self are discussed. The work is poignantly guided by Broadkey, leading to introspective self evaluation, and consequently self actualization. Written in a playful banter, as one friend would speak to another -- allowing for the broad generalization that "we" might meet again, in a bookstore, to continue this discussion.
His observations that "writing always tends towards some type of moral stance, " and "Ignorance has come to mean a state of booklessness," are particularly relevant in our electronically-hyped and entertainment-saturated media environment. The adage that one should not choose a book by its cover is as ironic as the language, structure and ideology of this "uncultivated reader." The superficial influences shaping preference in reading material are intimately personal. The feel of the leather, the font, the book jacket, or the authors name may initially catch the eye; but one won't know whether ones tastes, beliefs, and yearning for comfort are satisfied until the object of ones desire has been consumed from cover to cover. Whether your sensibilities are evolved, mediocre, or distinctly low-brow, a myriad of genres are available. Hence the danger in writing and discussion of language. Intellect translates into power. Once captured and transmuted into written form, beliefs, reason, truth, and fiction become history.
There are no formal boundaries as to what can be written. You and you alone control what you read. The more you read, the more you analyze, the more you comprehend, and the more you understand yourself, your society, and your existential predicament

Artwork: The Bookworm