Saturday, September 05, 2015

Thought for the Day

I have determined by rigorous scientific, philosophical, mathematical, juridical, and alchemical analysis that in order to make any writing advice actually true, you have to add 'when it is awesome' or 'except when it is awesome', as appropriate. It's not always easy to tell what's awesome and what's merely striking or different or pseudo-awesome, but if you can't tell what's awesome, no writing advice is going to help you, anyway, except by accident.

Just some examples:

"Never mix metaphors except when it is awesome."
"Never use a long word when a short word would do, except when it is awesome."
"Kill your darlings, except when they are awesome."
"Write what you know when it is awesome."
"Cut out all those exclamation marks, except when they are awesome."
"Don't edit while writing your first draft, except when it is awesome."
"Avoid wordiness, except when it is awesome."
"Be daring, when it is awesome."
"Know your genre when it is awesome."
"Show, don't tell, except when it is awesome."
"Revise your work, except when it is awesome."
"Never use a verb other than 'said' to carry dialogue, except when it is awesome."
"Write in the way comfortable to you, when it is awesome."
"Trust your readers, when they are awesome."
"Read a lot, when it is awesome."

And, finally, "Don't take writing advice seriously except when it is awesome."

Friday, September 04, 2015

Invisible Contest

I forgot to put up something yesterday (Thursday) for the feast of St. Gregory the Great. The following is one of his most influential passages, from Moralia in Job, Book XXXI:

For the tempting vices, which fight against us in invisible contest in behalf of the pride which reigns over them, some of them go first, like captains, others follow, after the manner of an army. For all faults do not occupy the heart with equal access. But while the greater and the few surprise a neglected mind, the smaller and the numberless pour themselves upon it in a whole body. For when pride, the queen of sins, has fully possessed a conquered heart, she surrenders it immediately to seven principal sins, as if to some of her generals, to lay it waste. And an army in truth follows these generals, because, doubtless, there spring up from them importunate hosts of sins. Which we set forth the better, if we specially bring forward in enumeration, as we are able, the leaders themselves and their army. For pride is the root of all evil, of which it is said, as Scripture bears witness; Pride is the beginning of all sin. [Ecclus. 10, 1] But seven principal vices, as its first progeny, spring doubtless from this poisonous root, namely, vain glory, envy, anger, melancholy, avarice, gluttony, lust.

I notice, incidentally, that a lot of online sources get St. Gregory's list wrong, assuming that he, like later authors, folds vain glory into pride. But in Gregory's account, pride is a distinct vice; vainglory is a daughter vice of pride, and, indeed, all of the capital vices flow from pride as generals from a queen.

The Sun, in All His Splendor, Wears Thy Beams

On the Works of Creation
by Elizabeth Rowe


Beauty complete, and majesty divine,
In all thy works, ador'd Creator, shine.
Where'er I cast my wond'ring eyes around,
The God I seek in ev'ry part is found.
Pursuing thee, the flow'ry fields I trace,
And read thy name on ev'ry spire of grass.
I follow thee thro' many a lonely shade,
And find thee in the solitary glade.
I meet thee in the kind, refreshing gale,
That gently passes thro' the dewy vale.
The pink, the jess'min, and the purple rose,
Perfum'd by thee, their fragrant leaves disclose.
The feather'd choir that welcome in the spring,
By thee were taught their various notes to sing.
By thee the morning in her crimson vest,
And ornaments of golden clouds is drest.
The sun, in all his splendor, wears thy beams,
And drinks in light from thy exhaustless streams.
The moon reveals thee by her glimm'ring ray;
Unnumber'd stars thy glorious paths display.
Amidst the solemn darkness of the night,
The thoughts of God my musing soul delight.
Thick shades and night thy dread pavilion form;
In state thou rid'st upon the flying storm;
While thy strong hand its fiercest rage restrains,
And holds the wild, unmanag'd winds in reins.
What sparklings of thy majesty appear,
When thro' the firmament swift lightnings glare?
When peals of thunder fill the skies around,
I hear thy voice in the tremendous sound.
But oh! how small a part is known of thee,
From all thy works immense variety?
Whatever mortal men perfection name,
Thou, in an infinite degree, dost claim.

And while I here thy faintest shadows trace,
I pine to see the glories of thy face;
Where beauty in its never changing height,
And uncreated excellence shines bright.
When shall the heav'nly scene; without controul,
Open in dazzling triumph on my soul?
My pow'rs with all their ardor shall adore,
And languish for terrestrial charms no more.

Rowe (1674-1737) was extraordinarily popular at one time, and for nearly a century; her work was praised by the likes of Pope and Johnson. Since her poetic work was mostly didactic poetry, people stopped reading her poems as didactic poetry became less commonly read and she mostly vanished from the view of everyone except a handful of specialists.

Thursday, September 03, 2015

The Mencius, Book VII

Book VII.A (Jin Xin I)

Book VII is much more aphoristic than the rest of the book, and the topics are varied. Some of the topics in VII.A:

(1) discussion of seeking one's true nature (VII.A.1, VII.A.2, VII.A.3, VII.A.4, and perhaps also VII.A.5 and VII.A.6);

(2) the importance of taking virtues like ren and yi to be high priorities (VII.A.8, VII.A.9, VII.A.10, VII.A.11, VII.A.25, VII.A.33);

(3) the relation between king and people (VII.A.12, VII.A.13, VII.A.14, VII.A.15, VII.A.22, VII.A.23);

(4) the character of the noble person (VII.A.19, VII.A.20, VII.A.21, VII.A.24, VII.A.33, perhaps VII.A.35, VII.A.37, VII.A.40, VII.A.41, VII.A.45);

(5) the importance to virtue of hitting the right mark (VII.A.26, VII.A.27, VII.A.28, VII.A.29, VII.A.41, VII.A.44, VII.A.45, VII.A.46).

One of the notable passages is VII.A.26, in which Master Meng criticizes three philosophers by putting them into opposition. Yangzi is an egoist; Mozi advocates universal care; Zi Mo tries to find a middle way. Because he takes a middle way, he is closer than the other two, because someone who takes an extreme is someone who is not looking at everything; but he fails to find the right measure and concern for circumstances in his attempt to find a middle, and so to that extent has taken an extreme in yet another way.

Another notable passage is Mencius's account of the five ways in which a noble person teaches (VII.A.40):

The first is by transforming influence like that of timely rain. The second is by helping the student realize his virtue to the full. The third is by helping him to develop his talent. The fourth is by answering his questions. And the fifth is by setting an example others not in contact with him can emulate.

Book VII.B (Jin Xin II)

Three major themes dominate VII.B: violence, cultivation of character, and tradition.

The first is the problem of violence. Just as a humane king extends his humanity from his immediate circle to the Empire, so a ruthless king extends his ruthlessness to everyone (VII.B.1). Wars, even legitimately punitive wars, are dangerous and to be avoided (VII.B.2-4). It is very serious to kill the family member of another, because this creates feuds (VII.B.7). Modern kings use the instruments once designed to protect from violence to perpetrate violence (VII.B.8).

In addition, several of the sections concern virtue and good character. Who does not practice the Tao himself cannot expect anyone else to do so (VII.B.9). Profit is dangerous as a motive and those who seek cannot be trusted (VII.B.10, VII.B.11). The survival of a state depends ultimate on trust of the virtuous (VII.B.12). Good character must be actively cultivated (VII.B.21, VII.B.32). To cultivate oneself, one should reduce one's desires (VII.B.35).

A very important passage concerned with virtue occurs when Mencius notes that ren is ren -- that is, the virtue of humanity to self and others is itself the proper sense of being human -- and the two together are the Tao (VII.B.16). The two forms of ren here are etymologically related, homophonic, and are written with related characters -- if you take ren, 人, human, and add the number 2 to it, 二, indicating a relation, you get the virtue ren, 仁, humaneness or benevolence or humanity to self and others.

A third major theme in this final part of the book is tradition, which, of course, is also the influence of the sage and the noble. The skilled can teach rules but not skill itself (VII.B.5); teaching the Tao requires practicing it (VII.B.9). "The sage is teacher to a hundred generations" (VII.B.15). The Confucians accept anyone who is willing to learn (VII.B.26, VII.B.30). The man who, while decent and faultless by ordinary standards, refuses to learn from the ancients is the enemy of virtue (VII.B.37). And in the final section of the entire book, we find Mencius soberly reflecting on how the chain in a tradition of virtue can break (VII.B.38):

Mencius said, 'From Yao and Shun to T'ang it was over five hundred years. Men like Yü and Kao Yao knew Yao and Shun personally, while those like T'ang knew them only by reputation. From T'ang to King Wen it was over five hundred years. Men like Yi Yin and Lai Chu knew T'ang personally, while those like King Wen knew him only by reputation. From King Wen to Confucius it was over five hundred years. Men such as T'ai Kung Wang and San-yi Sheng knew King Wen personally, while those like Confucius knew him only by reputation. From Confucius to the present it is over a hundred years. In time we are so near to the age of the sage while in place we are so close to his home, yet if there is no one who has anything of the sage, well then, there is no one who has anything of the sage.'

But, of course, there was Master Meng himself; and although Mencius knew Confucius only by reputation, there was certainly something of the sage in him.

--------

Quotations are from Mencius, Mencius, D.C. Lau, tr., Penguin (New York: 1970).

The Highest and Greatest of Mysteries

Now, it is the highest and greatest of mysteries that Solomon has allegorized by means of the Song of Songs: the entirety of Christ's coming and His death, together with His sufferings, and the resurrection and the Second Coming and the wedding of the gentiles to Christ the Groom and the illumination of the Church, and the outpouring of the Spirit's grace in prophecy and mission and teaching and martyrdom and virginity and priesthood and the ascetic life and the ways of penance, and the hope of sinners and the dead, thanks to the sacrifice of Christ. Yet, in comparison with what the saints are going to learn in their state of renewal and perfection through the Groom's love, these things which were said by Solomon pale--as does everything else concerning all these miracles of God which have happened and which are going to happen, everything that has been related by the ancients and by people of more modern times, no matter how capable of speaking and teaching the Lord Jesus has made them.

Gregory of Narek, The Blessing of Blessings: Gregory of Narek's Commentary on the Song of Songs, Roberta Ervine, tr., Cistercian Publications (Kalamazoo, MI: 2007) p. 208

Wednesday, September 02, 2015

Music on My Mind



Chisu, "Ihana".

Ihana means splendid, delightful, wonderful, fantastic, lovely. The basic gist of this upbeat little song is that you might eventually leave me, you might be crazy, I might be warned about you, but -- you are so ihana, and with you everything is ihanaa, and I want to be ihana for you.

Tuesday, September 01, 2015

Flavianus Michael Malke

On August 29, Pope Francis beatified Flavyānus Mikhayil Melkī. Blessed Flavyanus was a Syriac Catholic bishop in what is now Turkey who was martyred in 1915. In those days, of course, the ruling power in the area was the Ottoman Empire, and it was a time when the Ottomans were cracking down rather severely on Eastern Catholics. In the 1895 Massacres of Diyarbakir, his mother was killed and his church and house burned to the ground. The primary focus of the massacres was to root out Armenian Christians, a small group of whom had rebelled against local tax collectors; but the pogrom quickly spread to attacks on their Syriac and Assyrian Christian neighbors. Some estimate that over 20,000 Syriac and Assyrian Christians were murdered in the massacres. Things only got worse from there; it was the beginning in earnest of the Armenian Genocide and the Assyrian Genocide throughout large portions of the Ottoman Empire.

In the summer of 1915 the persecution had begun to reach its height. Melki heard rumors that there would be a major crackdown in Gazarta, where he was bishop. He had been out and about helping various villages and churches, but on hearing the rumors he returned to Gazarta and refused to leave, despite the fact that a number of local Muslim leaders with whom he had good relations pleaded for him to do so. He and the Chaldean Catholic bishop, Philippe-Jacques Abraham, were arrested. On August 28, they were both given the choice to convert to Islam or be executed for their presumed treasons against the Ottoman Empire; when Abraham refused, he was killed. When Melki refused, he was beaten unconscious and then beheaded.

Michael Malke