A Kind of Freedom

Iris Murdoch was born July 15, 1919.

Imagination is a kind of freedom, a renewed ability to perceive and express truth, and this is to put forward another of these lofty and high-minded views of art. The artist must tell the truth about something which he has understood. This is perhaps the best piece of advice which one can give to the writer. This idea must somehow remain within the work of art however ingenious it is and be felt by the artist and perceived by the critic.

[Iris Murdoch, Existentialists and Mystics, Conradi, ed., Penguin (New York: 1997) p. 256.]

Holmes Laughing

This is an established feature of the character that tends to get dropped from adaptations. Watson claims (twice) that Holmes rarely laughs, but in the adventures we have, he laughs quite a bit.

From Adventures:

He chuckled to himself and rubbed his long, nervous hands together. ("A Scandal in Bohemia")
**
Holmes laughed. “It is quite a pretty little problem,” said he. ("A Scandal in Bohemia")
**
Putting his hands into his pockets, he stretched out his legs in front of the fire and laughed heartily for some minutes.

“Well, really!” he cried, and then he choked and laughed again until he was obliged to lie back, limp and helpless, in the chair. ("A Scandal in Bohemia")
**
“I do not wish to make a mystery,” said he, laughing. ("A Scandal in Bohemia")
**
Sherlock Holmes and I surveyed this curt announcement and the rueful face behind it, until the comical side of the affair so completely overtopped every other consideration that we both burst out into a roar of laughter. ("The Red-Headed League")
**
“Never mind,” said Holmes, laughing; “it is my business to know things. Perhaps I have trained myself to see what others overlook. If not, why should you come to consult me?” ("A Case of Identity")
**
“Never mind,” said Holmes, laughing; “it is my business to know things. Perhaps I have trained myself to see what others overlook. If not, why should you come to consult me?” ("A Case of Identity")
**
“There is nothing more deceptive than an obvious fact,” he answered, laughing. ("The Boscombe Valley Mystery")
**
Holmes laughed softly to himself and stretched himself out upon the cushioned seat. ("The Boscombe Valley Mystery"
**
“Well, moonshine is a brighter thing than fog,” said Holmes, laughing. ("The Boscombe Valley Mystery")
**
Then, glancing quickly round, he straightened himself out and burst into a hearty fit of laughter. ("The Man with the Twisted Lip")
**
“No, no. No crime,” said Sherlock Holmes, laughing. ("The Blue Carbuncle")
**
Sherlock Holmes laughed. ("The Blue Carbuncle")
**
A few yards off he stopped under a lamp-post and laughed in the hearty, noiseless fashion which was peculiar to him. ("The Blue Carbuncle")
**
“He seems a very amiable person,” said Holmes, laughing. ("The Speckled Band")
**
Holmes was for the moment as startled as I. His hand closed like a vice upon my wrist in his agitation. Then he broke into a low laugh and put his lips to my ear. ("The Speckled Band")
**
“Experience,” said Holmes, laughing. “Indirectly it may be of value, you know; you have only to put it into words to gain the reputation of being excellent company for the remainder of your existence.” ("The Engineer's Thumb")
**
“It is very good of Lord St. Simon to honour my head by putting it on a level with his own,” said Sherlock Holmes, laughing. ("The Noble Bachelor")
**
Sherlock Holmes leaned back in his chair and laughed heartily. ("The Noble Bachelor")
**
“Very good, Lestrade,” said Holmes, laughing. “You really are very fine indeed. Let me see it.” ("The Noble Bachelor")
**

From The Memoirs:

Holmes thought a little and then burst out laughing. “No, don’t,” said he; “I shall write to you about it. No tricks, now, or—” ("Silver Blaze")
**
Sherlock Holmes laughed. “I assure you that I have not associated you with the crime, Colonel,” said he. ("Silver Blaze")
**
Holmes, with a laugh, passed his hand behind the child’s ear, a mask peeled off from her countenance, and there was a little coal black negress, with all her white teeth flashing in amusement at our amazed faces. I burst out laughing, out of sympathy with her merriment; but Grant Munro stood staring, with his hand clutching his throat. ("The Yellow Face")
**
“The fates are against you, Watson,” said he, laughing. “We were chatting about the matter when you came in, Inspector. Perhaps you can let us have a few details.” As he leaned back in his chair in the familiar attitude I knew that the case was hopeless. ("The Reigate Squires")
**
Sherlock Holmes laughed heartily. “We will come to that in its turn,” said he. ("The Reigate Squires")
**
“I could see that you were commiserating me over my weakness,” said Holmes, laughing. ("The Reigate Squires")
**
This was news to me indeed. If there were another man with such singular powers in England, how was it that neither police nor public had heard of him? I put the question, with a hint that it was my companion’s modesty which made him acknowledge his brother as his superior. Holmes laughed at my suggestion. ("The Greek Interpreter")
**
“With all our precautions, you see that we have cut it rather fine,” said Holmes, laughing. He rose, and throwing off the black cassock and hat which had formed his disguise, he packed them away in a hand-bag. ("The Final Problem")
**

From His Last Bow:

“Come, come, sir,” said Holmes, laughing. “You are like my friend, Dr. Watson, who has a bad habit of telling his stories wrong end foremost. Please arrange your thoughts and let me know, in their due sequence, exactly what those events are which have sent you out unbrushed and unkempt, with dress boots and waistcoat buttoned awry, in search of advice and assistance.” ("Wisteria Lodge")
**
An answer had arrived to Holmes’s telegram before our Surrey officer had returned. Holmes read it and was about to place it in his notebook when he caught a glimpse of my expectant face. He tossed it across with a laugh. ("Wisteria Lodge")
**
Holmes laughed good-humouredly. ("Wisteria Lodge")
**
“It won’t do, Watson!” said he with a laugh. ("The Devil's Foot")
**
He laughed heartily at my perplexity. ("The Cardboard Box")
**

From The Return:

So amazed was I that I threw out my hand to make sure that the man himself was standing beside me. He was quivering with silent laughter. ("The Empty House")
**
“The old shikari's nerves have not lost their steadiness nor his eyes their keenness,” said he, with a laugh, as he inspected the shattered forehead of his bust. ("The Empty House")
**
Something in his tone caught my ear, and I turned to look at him. An extraordinary change had come over his face. It was writhing with inward merriment. His two eyes were shining like stars. It seemed to me that he was making desperate efforts to restrain a convulsive attack of laughter. ("The Norwood Builder")
**
Holmes's quiet day in the country had a singular termination, for he arrived at Baker Street late in the evening with a cut lip and a discoloured lump upon his forehead, besides a general air of dissipation which would have made his own person the fitting object of a Scotland Yard investigation. He was immensely tickled by his own adventures, and laughed heartily as he recounted them. ("The Solitary Cyclist")
**
Holmes laughed good-naturedly. ("The Priory School")
**
There were two rough-haired, unkempt horses in the tumble-down stable. Holmes raised the hind leg of one of them and laughed aloud. ("The Priory School")
**
Several letters were waiting for Holmes at Baker Street. He snatched one of them up, opened it, and burst out into a triumphant chuckle of laughter. ("Black Peter")
**
For some days Holmes came and went at all hours in this attire, but beyond a remark that his time was spent at Hampstead, and that it was not wasted, I knew nothing of what he was doing. At last, however, on a wild, tempestuous evening, when the wind screamed and rattled against the windows, he returned from his last expedition, and having removed his disguise he sat before the fire and laughed heartily in his silent inward fashion. ("Charles Augustus Milverton")
**
Holmes laughed at the young giant's naive astonishment. ("The Missing Three-Quarter")
**
A pompous butler ushered us severely to the door, and we found ourselves in the street. Holmes burst out laughing. ("The Missing Three-Quarter")
**
I was horrified by my first glimpse of Holmes next morning, for he sat by the fire holding his tiny hypodermic syringe. I associated that instrument with the single weakness of his nature, and I feared the worst when I saw it glittering in his hand. He laughed at my expression of dismay, and laid it upon the table. ("The Missing Three-Quarter")
**
Holmes put his finger on his lips, replaced his hand in his breast-pocket, and burst out laughing as we turned down the street. ("The Second Stain")
**

From The Case-Book:

Holmes seldom laughed, but he got as near it as his old friend Watson could remember. ("The Mazarin Stone")
**
Holmes had read carefully a note which the last post had brought him. Then, with the dry chuckle which was his nearest approach to a laugh, he tossed it over to me. ("The Sussex Vampire")
**
"I am a bit of an archaeologist myself when it comes to houses," said Holmes, laughing. "I was wondering if this was Queen Anne or Georgian." ("The Three Garridebs")
**
Holmes laughed. ("The Three Garridebs")
**

From A Study in Scarlet:

“Oh, that’s all right,” he cried, with a merry laugh. “I think we may consider the thing as settled—that is, if the rooms are agreeable to you.”
**
“I really beg your pardon!” said my companion, who had ruffled the little man’s temper by bursting into an explosion of laughter.
**
Holmes laughed and threw his card across the table to the constable.
**
It was close upon nine when he set out. I had no idea how long he might be, but I sat stolidly puffing at my pipe and skipping over the pages of Henri Murger’s “Vie de Bohème.” Ten o’clock passed, and I heard the footsteps of the maid as they pattered off to bed. Eleven, and the more stately tread of the landlady passed my door, bound for the same destination. It was close upon twelve before I heard the sharp sound of his latch-key. The instant he entered I saw by his face that he had not been successful. Amusement and chagrin seemed to be struggling for the mastery, until the former suddenly carried the day, and he burst into a hearty laugh.
**
“Didn’t I tell you so when we started?” cried Sherlock Holmes with a laugh. “That’s the result of all our Study in Scarlet: to get them a testimonial!”
**

From The Sign of Four:

“Oh, didn’t you know?” he cried, laughing.
**
“You see, Watson, if all else fails me I have still one of the scientific professions open to me,” said Holmes, laughing. “Our friend won’t keep us out in the cold now, I am sure.”
**
Sherlock Holmes and I looked blankly at each other, and then burst simultaneously into an uncontrollable fit of laughter.
**
“Here it is,” said he, laughing, and pointing to an open newspaper. “The energetic Jones and the ubiquitous reporter have fixed it up between them. But you have had enough of the case. Better have your ham and eggs first.”
**

From The Hound of the Baskervilles:

He laughed at my bewildered expression. “There is a delightful freshness about you, Watson, which makes it a pleasure to exercise any small powers which I possess at your expense. A gentleman goes forth on a showery and miry day. He returns immaculate in the evening with the gloss still on his hat and his boots. He has been a fixture therefore all day. He is not a man with intimate friends. Where, then, could he have been? Is it not obvious?”
**
Never have I seen my friend more completely taken aback than by the cabman’s reply. For an instant he sat in silent amazement. Then he burst into a hearty laugh.
**
He had uttered a cry and bent over the body. Now he was dancing and laughing and wringing my hand. Could this be my stern, self-contained friend? These were hidden fires, indeed!
**
“Exactly. This chance of the picture has supplied us with one of our most obvious missing links. We have him, Watson, we have him, and I dare swear that before tomorrow night he will be fluttering in our net as helpless as one of his own butterflies. A pin, a cork, and a card, and we add him to the Baker Street collection!” He burst into one of his rare fits of laughter as he turned away from the picture. I have not heard him laugh often, and it has always boded ill to somebody.
**

From The Valley of Fear:

Holmes laughed. “Watson insists that I am the dramatist in real life,” said he.
**

Sacramental Remedies and Armaments

Tomorrow (Wednesday) is the feast of St. Bonaventura, Doctor of the Church. Reposted from 2015:

**************

Today is the Feast of St. Bonaventure of Bagnoregio, Doctor of the Church. From his Breviloquium (Part VI, Chapter 3):

Since this army [of the Church] consists of elements that are subject to weakening, in order that the ranks be perfectly and permanently strengthened, it needs sacraments to fortify, relieve, and replenish its members: to fortify the combatants, relieve the wounded and replenish the dying. Now, a fortifying sacrament strengthens either those just entering the combat, and this is Baptism; or those in the midst of the fray, and this is Confirmation; or those who are leaving it, and this is Extreme Unction. A relieving sacrament alleviates either venial sin, and this is the Eucharist; or mortal sin, and this is Penance. Finally, a sacrament that replenishes does so either on the level of spiritual existence, and this is...Orders, which has the function of administering the sacraments; or on the level of natural existence, and this is Matrimony, which replenishes the multitude of humanity in their natural existence, the foundation of everything else....

And so Baptism is designed for those just entering the fight, Confirmation for those engaged in combat, the Eucharist for those refreshing their strength, Penance for those rising from their sickbeds, Extreme Unction for those who are departing, Orders for those who break in the new recruits, and Matrimony for those who provide these recruits. And so it is evident that the sacramental remedies and armaments are both sufficient and orderly.

[Bonaventure, Breviloquium, Monti, ed., The Franciscan Institute (Saint Bonaventure, NY: 2005), pp. 220-221.]

Bonaventure was the second Doctor of the Church (after Aquinas) to be explicitly designated as such by a Pope. (The first eight Doctors of the Church achieved and established the title by a much more piecemeal process of liturgical development; their title was extended to Aquinas and Bonaventure by papal authority.) I've noted before that Bonaventure's real name was Giovanni di Fidanza -- 'Bonaventura' is a nickname that means 'Good Fortune'. We don't know why he was nicknamed Lucky, but Bonaventure himself tells us that as an infant he was cured of an illness by St. Francis of Assisi, and late tradition suggests that he was given the nickname by St. Francis himself.

Evening Note for Monday, July 13

Thought for the Evening: Allegorical Reading of Poetry

One of the Confucian Classics is the Classic of Odes or Classic of Poetry. Confucius himself praised it highly, and seems at the very least to regard it as an essential source for learning how to speak well; but because he also says at one point that 'it does not deviate', he was generally interpreted as suggesting that it is a storehouse of moral guidance. It is perhaps not always immediately obvious how this works; for instance, Ode 87 is a woman singing (literally) about lifting her dress so she can cross a river, and seems to press this risqué image for all its erotic potential: she is willing to lift her skirts for a man if he desires her, but if not, is he really the only one available? But Confucian commentators might read it as a describing a political situation in which the lovers are two states, and the relationship one in which a weaker state needs help and guidance from a stronger state.

The Platonists read Homer allegorically. Thus Circe turning Odysseus's men to beasts would be read as describing the tendency of vice to make us less than properly human. A good summary of this way of interpreting the Circe story, for instance, is found preserved in Boethius (Consolation of Philosophy, Book IV, meter 3); that this long predates Boethius in some form is strongly suggested by occasional other comments we have.

The Song of Songs, Shir ha-Shirim, also known as the Song of Solomon, is an erotic poem, but it was compared by the Rabbi Akiba to the Holy of Holies. The rabbis interpreted it as a parable describing the relationship between God and Israel. (This manner of reading it, of course, is found also in Christians, who have often read it as a description of the relationship between God and the Church.)

In the modern West, it has become common to treat such readings as 'misreadings' or 'abuses' of the text, and allegorical readings are not fashionable among us. But I think it's important to recognize how utterly abnormal this is; to refuse to allegorize is artificial. In cultures in which poetry plays an important role -- and particularly an important role in 'how to speak', to put it in Confucian terms -- allegorical readings of poetry arise spontaneously. Refusing to read poetry allegorically at all requires regularly squashing this tendency. Allegorical reading requires nothing but a sense of how something can be a metaphor for something else, which people generally have to some degree; refusing to read allegorically requires walking an extremely fine line in which one recognizes the figurative character of the poem but takes the figurative language of a poem to be only a little bit figurative -- little figures of speech not extended 'too' far. This is not a target that can easily be hit without a lot of practice.

Of course, none of this is to say that people don't disagree with allegorical readings -- contrary to what is sometimes assumed, allegorical readings are not arbitrary but reasoned -- and even with respect to the three highly allegorized texts above (Shijing, Odyssey, Shir ha-Shirim), you get occasional spurts of skepticism about allegorical readings, and occasional phases in which people focus more on less allegorical readings. But there is a gap between these kinds of criticism and skepticism and refusing outright to recognize the power of a poem to describe large sections of human life.

Related Evening Note: Mythology as a Guide for Morals

Various Links of Interest

* Helen De Cruz discusses the role of awe in scientific inquiry.

* An interesting in-depth discussion of a worrisome recent trend, namely, the tendency of corporations and businesses to divide along partisan lines.

* Amod Lele, The Consolations and Pleasures of Philosophy

* Cameron Harwick, It's Not Socialism, It's Clientelism

* Alison Cobbe, Frances Power Cobbe and Nineteenth-Century Moral Philosophy

* Medieval London is an online exhibit giving a picture of what life was like in a medieval city. Medieval Londoners is a database for actual people we know to have lived in medieval London.

* Sarah Hutton, The Cambridge Platonists, at the SEP
Stephen Phillips, Gaṅgeśa

* Frederick Douglass's oration on Abraham Lincoln, given at the unveiling of The Freedmen's Monument in Washington, DC. The Freedmen's Monument was paid for in commemoration of Lincoln by freed slaves, some of whom devoted significant portions of their first income as free men and women to the project. It was one of the monuments targeted in the recent spate of memorial vandalism, because some people think that the slave thus depicted looks like he's kneeling to Lincoln -- which is not true, he is beginning to rise, his chains having been broken, but people see in statues what they have trained themselves to see, in one way or another. The copy of it in, I think, Boston, was taken down for this reason. In any case, the DC one was protected by Washington's rather active community of Black History tour guides and re-enactors until barricades could be put around it. For myself, the fact that it is a monument to emancipation paid for by emancipated slaves themselves makes it as close to sacred as a secular monument can be, and tearing it down one of the worst forms of arrogance, and treating 'racial justice' as an excuse for tearing it down an obvious lie; but it's sometimes difficult to explain this to people who hold nothing sacred at all. Regardless, Douglass's oration is one of the most measured and laudatory eulogies of Lincoln imaginable -- fully recognizing his limitations, but giving him a kind of praise that is among the highest forms of praise a human being can receive.

* Robert Post, The Incomparable Chief Justiceship of William Howard Taft (PDF)

* Sianne Ngai, The Gimmick of the Novel of Ideas. Ngai is usually considered a literary theorist, and I think her work is often uneven, but at its best it's some of the best work in aesthetics done today.

* Andy Smarick, Why Statecraft Is Still Soulcraft

* July 9 was the 123rd anniversary of Venerable Augustus Tolton's death.

Currently Reading

Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, The Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes
Lucretius, On the Nature of Things
Yuri Slezkine, The House of Government
Hannah Arendt, Totalitarianism

Mission San Gabriel

The Mission San Gabriel Arcángel was founded by the Franciscans in 1771, although the current building was built in 1776 after the original was destroyed by a flood. It was a church until 1834, when it fell into disuse, and was then restored by the Claretians beginning in 1862. It is one of the most important historic church buildings in California. Early Saturday morning, around 4 am, it was in flames; the roof has been destroyed and much of the church interior by the fire. Contrary to the somewhat misleading AP report, the mission was not itself founded by St. Junipero Serra, although he was president of missions and thus supervisor for those who did found it; but the mission has had repeated problems the past few years with their statue of St. Junipero being vandalized, and given the recent spate of vandalism against memorials (including several statues of St. Junipero elsewhere), they recently moved the statue to protect it.

It is at present unclear whether the fire was accidental or arson. Either way, it is a great misfortune.

Perhaps I should take some time to listen again to the "Christmas at Mission San Gabriel" episode of The Romance of the Ranchos (found here at #16).

ADDED LATER: The parish is collecting donations for its Fire Restoration Fund.

ADDED LATER 2: It looks like some good news is that almost all paintings and artifacts had been removed to allow some renovating before the mission's 250th anniversary next year. The investigation has so far indicated that the fire started in the choir loft, but isn't giving more than that yet.

Two Poem Drafts

Waiting

The world is waiting; I'm at home;
through endless hours, I am alone;
but all my thoughts are in the sky
where sings the sun its songs of light,
and there my soul will gently float
above great lands no man has known
as I am holding one simple truth,
that I am waiting for you.

When evening shadows grow long and dark
there shines within one blazing star;
the sun's light fades and day will pass,
but I remain and I will last
for my eye seeks the distant line
to find the one I have in mind --
and so I look, with hope imbued:
for I am waiting for you.

Present Tense

the present is not an instant
but a blur
not a note but a whir
not near but ever distant
and something we defer

when we are future
it is past
forward-looking
on it runs

when we are passing
it will last
it is mere portent
when we endure

all unstable
ever sure
and in the doing it is done

Catcher in the Rye

Twitter is mostly useless, and everybody on it usually sounds stupid, but as I pretty much have to force myself occasionally to wade through the Twitter accounts of my colleagues in order to see (amidst many very groanworthy jokes, pointless memes, and uninformed political opinions that are exactly like everyone else's uninformed political opinions but stated in a much more lecturing and indignant tone) what people are reading and recommending -- since I have to do this anyway, I have to take time to enjoy the rare great tweet I come across. This tweet was the one that made today's Twitter-skimming bearable.

Oh, my god. pic.twitter.com/KkTLX8pEi6

— Michael (@michaelcollado) July 10, 2020