His mind was destitute of that dread which has been erroneously decried as if it were nothing higher than a man's animal care for his own skin: that awe of Divine Nemesis which was felt by religious pagans, and, though it took a more positive form under Christianity, is still felt by the mass of mankind simply as a vague fear at anything which is called wrong-doing. Such terror of the unseen is so far above mere sensual cowardice that it will annihilated that cowardice: it is the initial recognition of a moral law restraining desire, and checks the hard bold scrutiny of imperfect thought into obligations which can never be proved to have any sanctity in the absence of feeling. "It is good," sing the old Eumenides, in Aeschylus, "that fear should sit as the guardian of the soul, forcing it into wisdom--good that men should carry a threatening shadow in their hearts under th full sunshine; else, how shall they learn to revere the right?" That guardianship may become needless; but only when all outward law has become needless--only when duty and love have united in one stream and made a common force.
This is from my favorite George Eliot novel: Romola, Chapter XI. The reference is to Aeschylus's Eumenides.
Saturday, May 13, 2006
Friday, May 12, 2006
The Imaginative Charge of Words
But even among the synonyms of our own tongue we cannot ignore the imaginative charge of words without being monstrous. You might, for example, be excused for declining an invitation to dinner when the menu that was offered was dead calf with fungus in heated dough, scorched ground tubers, and cabbage stalks, all swilled down with rotten German grape juice, and topped off with the dust of burnt berries in scalding water diluted with the oozings from the udders of a cow. You might well decline such a bill of fare, but you would miss an excellent meal of veal and mushroom pie, roast potatoes and spring greens,chased by a bottle of hock, and finished with a steaming cup of coffee and cream. What's in a name? Just about everything.
--Paul Roche, "Translator's Preface," Euripides: Ten Plays (Signet, 1998) xvii.
--Paul Roche, "Translator's Preface," Euripides: Ten Plays (Signet, 1998) xvii.
Herrick
Comments on a post that I found in the most recent Teaching Carnival have started me thinking about the love poetry of Robert Herrick, which is an interesting set of poems to read. Some of the poems are quite striking:
The Rainbow, Or Curious Covenant
Mine eyes, like clouds, were drizzling rain ;
And as they thus did entertain
The gentle beams from Julia's sight
To mine eyes levell'd opposite,
O thing admir'd ! there did appear
A curious rainbow smiling there ;
Which was the covenant that she
No more would drown mine eyes or me.
Others strike the ear as odd, not because they are bad poetry, but because we moderns have no real sense of imagery:
Her Legs
Fain would I kiss my Julia's dainty leg,
Which is as white and hairless as an egg.
Which, it must be admitted, is a nice attribute for a leg to have; but it reminds one of the Song of Songs, where the woman has teeth like a herd of wet sheep. The imagery is perfect, as far as it goes; but we just don't have any real sense for it, so it sounds hilarious.
Some of the poems, of course, are just a tad silly, and probably deliberately so:
Upon Julia's Breasts
Display thy breasts, my Julia—there let me
Behold that circummortal purity,
Between whose glories there my lips I'll lay,
Ravish'd in that fair via lactea.
That could scarcely be said with straight face unless it were said as at least half a joke. There are several poems like this; more like cleverly expressed bawdy jokes than anything else. Others are more sensual:
Upon Julia's Breath
Breathe, Julia, breathe, and I'll protest,
Nay more, I'll deeply swear,
That all the spices of the east
Are circumfused there.
And still others mix the sensual and the bawdy:
The Vine
I dream'd this mortal part of mine
Was Metamorphoz'd to a Vine;
Which crawling one and every way,
Enthrall'd my dainty Lucia.
Me thought, her long small legs & thighs
I with my Tendrils did surprize;
Her Belly, Buttocks, and her Waste
By my soft Nerv'lits were embrac'd:
About her head I writhing hung,
And with rich clusters (hid among
The leaves) her temples I behung:
So that my Lucia seem'd to me
Young Bacchus ravished by his tree.
My curles about her neck did craule,
And armes and hands they did enthrall:
So that she could not freely stir,
(All parts there made one prisoner.)
But when I crept with leaves to hide
Those parts, which maids keep unespy'd,
Such fleeting pleasures there I took,
That with the fancie I awook;
And found (Ah me!) this flesh of mine
More like a Stock then like a Vine.
But others are sweeter and gentler:
Another Upon Her Weeping
She by the river sat, and sitting there,
She wept, and made it deeper by a tear.
The Rainbow, Or Curious Covenant
Mine eyes, like clouds, were drizzling rain ;
And as they thus did entertain
The gentle beams from Julia's sight
To mine eyes levell'd opposite,
O thing admir'd ! there did appear
A curious rainbow smiling there ;
Which was the covenant that she
No more would drown mine eyes or me.
Others strike the ear as odd, not because they are bad poetry, but because we moderns have no real sense of imagery:
Her Legs
Fain would I kiss my Julia's dainty leg,
Which is as white and hairless as an egg.
Which, it must be admitted, is a nice attribute for a leg to have; but it reminds one of the Song of Songs, where the woman has teeth like a herd of wet sheep. The imagery is perfect, as far as it goes; but we just don't have any real sense for it, so it sounds hilarious.
Some of the poems, of course, are just a tad silly, and probably deliberately so:
Upon Julia's Breasts
Display thy breasts, my Julia—there let me
Behold that circummortal purity,
Between whose glories there my lips I'll lay,
Ravish'd in that fair via lactea.
That could scarcely be said with straight face unless it were said as at least half a joke. There are several poems like this; more like cleverly expressed bawdy jokes than anything else. Others are more sensual:
Upon Julia's Breath
Breathe, Julia, breathe, and I'll protest,
Nay more, I'll deeply swear,
That all the spices of the east
Are circumfused there.
And still others mix the sensual and the bawdy:
The Vine
I dream'd this mortal part of mine
Was Metamorphoz'd to a Vine;
Which crawling one and every way,
Enthrall'd my dainty Lucia.
Me thought, her long small legs & thighs
I with my Tendrils did surprize;
Her Belly, Buttocks, and her Waste
By my soft Nerv'lits were embrac'd:
About her head I writhing hung,
And with rich clusters (hid among
The leaves) her temples I behung:
So that my Lucia seem'd to me
Young Bacchus ravished by his tree.
My curles about her neck did craule,
And armes and hands they did enthrall:
So that she could not freely stir,
(All parts there made one prisoner.)
But when I crept with leaves to hide
Those parts, which maids keep unespy'd,
Such fleeting pleasures there I took,
That with the fancie I awook;
And found (Ah me!) this flesh of mine
More like a Stock then like a Vine.
But others are sweeter and gentler:
Another Upon Her Weeping
She by the river sat, and sitting there,
She wept, and made it deeper by a tear.
Definitions and Descriptions
Julian Baggini has an unfortunately confused little musing on sin in The Guardian (HT: Butterflies and Wheels). In it he says:
Well, I don't find it disturbing, since it's exactly what one would expect. But what I want to focus on is not that but the confusion. Baggini confusedly takes a description for a definition in his appeal to the Catholic catechism. From a Christian perspective, every sin will be a rejection of and opposition to God, but it doesn't follow from this that that's what the term 'sin' means. Claiming that every sin is properly described as a rejection of and opposition to God is not the same as claiming that that's what the term 'sin' means. One might as well say that, because a credit card can be described from a certain perspective as a convenient form of payment, the term 'credit card' means 'a convenient form of payment'. To distinguish descriptions from definitions takes serious analysis. It is also one of the oldest and most venerable parts of philosophy as we know it, since the distinction of mere descriptions from definitions was the whole point of Socratic investigation. I refer you to Plato's dialogues if you need a refresher on the subject.
Sin is a morally bad act; it is to action what vice is disposition. Had Baggini taken a more technical definition, such as Aquinas's (deriving from Augustine), which in one form or another is very popular, he wouldn't be so quick to assume that 'sin' always means 'contrary to God's will' when Christians talk about it. For 'sin' in that sense is a word, deed, or desire contrary to eternal law -- and so human sin is word, deed, or desire contrary to our little bit of eternal law, namely, the authoritative moral dictates of practical reason. And, last I heard, most atheists hadn't foresworn practical reason or the authority thereof. So it's unfortunate that Baggini has chosen to dabble in equivocal word play rather than serious analysis or substantive argument; people have a right to expect more from philosophers in public view, and, as it is a purely regressive contribution to the discussion, it doesn't do anyone any good.
UPDATE: Here is the section from the Catechism to which Baggini refers (386):
Notice that there is no claim here of defining sin; rather, the claim is that no one fully understands the evil of sin until they recognize that all sin is humanity's rejection of God and opposition to him. This is confirmed by the very next section:
Notice that the point is clarification and clear recognition of sin, of avoiding mistakes in explaining sin; there is no attempt here to define sin. In other words, the intended idea is that we are here dealing with a true description; it isn't put forward as a definition. When the Catechism actually sets out an informal definition of sin (1849), it adapts and quotes Aquinas's.
Sin is as alien to the contemporary mind as fetching water from a well, darning your own socks or finding Demis Roussos sexy. According to the Catholic Catechism, sin is "humanity's rejection of God and opposition to him", which of course means that the godless (a bracket into which a large number of generation Y will fall) find the whole notion irrelevant, senseless or both. This is precisely what Christians who accept the idea of sin find deeply disturbing: a culture that doesn't even care about sin has truly cut itself off from God's grace and is therefore sinful in the most profound sense.
Well, I don't find it disturbing, since it's exactly what one would expect. But what I want to focus on is not that but the confusion. Baggini confusedly takes a description for a definition in his appeal to the Catholic catechism. From a Christian perspective, every sin will be a rejection of and opposition to God, but it doesn't follow from this that that's what the term 'sin' means. Claiming that every sin is properly described as a rejection of and opposition to God is not the same as claiming that that's what the term 'sin' means. One might as well say that, because a credit card can be described from a certain perspective as a convenient form of payment, the term 'credit card' means 'a convenient form of payment'. To distinguish descriptions from definitions takes serious analysis. It is also one of the oldest and most venerable parts of philosophy as we know it, since the distinction of mere descriptions from definitions was the whole point of Socratic investigation. I refer you to Plato's dialogues if you need a refresher on the subject.
Sin is a morally bad act; it is to action what vice is disposition. Had Baggini taken a more technical definition, such as Aquinas's (deriving from Augustine), which in one form or another is very popular, he wouldn't be so quick to assume that 'sin' always means 'contrary to God's will' when Christians talk about it. For 'sin' in that sense is a word, deed, or desire contrary to eternal law -- and so human sin is word, deed, or desire contrary to our little bit of eternal law, namely, the authoritative moral dictates of practical reason. And, last I heard, most atheists hadn't foresworn practical reason or the authority thereof. So it's unfortunate that Baggini has chosen to dabble in equivocal word play rather than serious analysis or substantive argument; people have a right to expect more from philosophers in public view, and, as it is a purely regressive contribution to the discussion, it doesn't do anyone any good.
UPDATE: Here is the section from the Catechism to which Baggini refers (386):
Sin is present in human history; any attempt to ignore it or to give this dark reality other names would be futile. To try to understand what sin is, one must first recognize the profound relation of man to God, for only in this relationship is the evil of sin unmasked in its true identity as humanity's rejection of God and opposition to him, even as it continues to weigh heavy on human life and history.
Notice that there is no claim here of defining sin; rather, the claim is that no one fully understands the evil of sin until they recognize that all sin is humanity's rejection of God and opposition to him. This is confirmed by the very next section:
Only the light of divine Revelation clarifies the reality of sin and particularly of the sin committed at mankind's origins. Without the knowledge Revelation gives of God we cannot recognize sin clearly and are tempted to explain it as merely a developmental flaw, a psychological weakness, a mistake, or the necessary consequence of an inadequate social structure, etc. Only in the knowledge of God's plan for man can we grasp that sin is an abuse of the freedom that God gives to created persons so that they are capable of loving him and loving one another
Notice that the point is clarification and clear recognition of sin, of avoiding mistakes in explaining sin; there is no attempt here to define sin. In other words, the intended idea is that we are here dealing with a true description; it isn't put forward as a definition. When the Catechism actually sets out an informal definition of sin (1849), it adapts and quotes Aquinas's.
Sor Juana Rebukes a Rose
Here's a slight reworking of an old translation I made of Sor Juana's "En que da moral censura a una rosa, y en ella a sus semejantes". You can see the Spanish and the earlier draft here. It still needs work.
In which she rebukes a rose, and in it those like it
Divine rose, you are grown in grace,
with all your fragrant subtleness,
teacher with scarlet beauty blessed,
snowy lesson in a lovely face,
twin of human frame and doom,
example of a gentility vain,
in whom are unified these twain:
the happy cradle, the grieving tomb.
Such haughtiness in your pomp, such pride,
such presumption; you disdain mortal fate;
later you are dismayed and hide
as dying you show a withered state
of which, by learnéd death and foolish life,
alive you lied, but dying demonstrate!
UPDATE: Thinking about the matter more, I think 'snowy lesson in a lovely face' might be better as 'a winter lesson in a lovely face', because 'snowy' sounds like it's the color of the rose (which jars with the previous line), whereas the point is that it's the situation of the rose -- the rose is in an early winter snow. One thing that's in the original that doesn't show up well in the translation are the cognates; this could perhaps be improved slightly by using 'graciousness' rather than 'gentility' in the second stanza.
In which she rebukes a rose, and in it those like it
Divine rose, you are grown in grace,
with all your fragrant subtleness,
teacher with scarlet beauty blessed,
snowy lesson in a lovely face,
twin of human frame and doom,
example of a gentility vain,
in whom are unified these twain:
the happy cradle, the grieving tomb.
Such haughtiness in your pomp, such pride,
such presumption; you disdain mortal fate;
later you are dismayed and hide
as dying you show a withered state
of which, by learnéd death and foolish life,
alive you lied, but dying demonstrate!
UPDATE: Thinking about the matter more, I think 'snowy lesson in a lovely face' might be better as 'a winter lesson in a lovely face', because 'snowy' sounds like it's the color of the rose (which jars with the previous line), whereas the point is that it's the situation of the rose -- the rose is in an early winter snow. One thing that's in the original that doesn't show up well in the translation are the cognates; this could perhaps be improved slightly by using 'graciousness' rather than 'gentility' in the second stanza.
Thursday, May 11, 2006
Which Musical Instrument Would the Mind Be?
According to Hume, it would be a string instrument, at least with regard to the passions:
Now if we consider the human mind, we shall find, that with regard to the passions, 'tis not of the nature of a wind-instrument of music, which in running over all the notes immediately loses the sound after the breath ceases; but rather resembles a string-instrument, where after each stroke the vibrations still retain some sound, which gradually and insensibly decays. The imagination is extremely quick and agile,; but the passions are slow and restive: For which reason, when any object is presented, that affords a variety of views to the one, and emotions to the other; tho' the fancy may change its views with great celerity; each stroke will not produce a clear and distinct note of passion, but the one passion will always be mixt and confounded with the other.[T.2.3.9.12]
Media Points
The new trailer for Shyamalan's Lady in the Water (uses QuickTime). I confess myself intrigued.
If you haven't seen Season One of Cherub: The Vampire with Bunny Slippers, you should. There will, of course, be a second season beginning in June.
Wintergreen's "When I Wake Up" video tells the story of the Atari E.T. video game, perhaps the biggest flop in the history of the genre -- so bad that most of the cartridges had to be taken to the landfill as unsellable. We had that game -- still do, unless it got lost in one of our many moves. (Both song and video are pretty cool.)
You can play some classic '80s games online. Asteroids is as addictive as ever.
UPDATE: Also, check out some of the papers from the Bloggership conference on blogging and scholarship.
If you haven't seen Season One of Cherub: The Vampire with Bunny Slippers, you should. There will, of course, be a second season beginning in June.
Wintergreen's "When I Wake Up" video tells the story of the Atari E.T. video game, perhaps the biggest flop in the history of the genre -- so bad that most of the cartridges had to be taken to the landfill as unsellable. We had that game -- still do, unless it got lost in one of our many moves. (Both song and video are pretty cool.)
You can play some classic '80s games online. Asteroids is as addictive as ever.
UPDATE: Also, check out some of the papers from the Bloggership conference on blogging and scholarship.
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