* Karen Marie Knapp died in her sleep on August 1; blogging at From the Anchor Hold, she was a staple of the blogosphere. She first posted May 30, 2002; her last was July 20, 2007. Her archives are well worth browsing. God bless her; and may she remember us in her prayers.
* Common-place has an article on the only still-intact residence of Benjamin Franklin: the house he lived in on Craven Street when he was in London representing the Pennsylvania Assembly. It stands near Charing Cross Station, and has recently been renovated (its status as intact had recently become a bit precarious).
* Under Hill by Gene Wolfe is a fun little short story. (ht: CC)
* Mr. H has pictures from the first Jesuit emblem-book.
* Those interested in the Reformed view of justification should take Rebecca's quiz; it's a quick tour of the Westminster Confession on the subject. She gives and discusses the answers at length here, here, here, and here.
* Mike Wallace's 1959 interview with Ayn Rand: Part I, Part II, Part III. (Ht: MP)
* An interesting mistranslation: The "Aggressive House Spider", also known as the Hobo spider, is actually fairly nonaggressive. So why the name? It appears to be a misunderstandng of the Latin name, Tegenaria agrestis. A large number of spiders of the Tegenaria genus (the mat weavers) are common and well-known house spiders, so the genus is often treated as a genus of house spiders. But the Hobo spider is not a true house spider; it's an outdoor spider. That is, in fact, where the Latin name comes from: agrestis means 'rural' or 'pertaining to the fields'; in Western Europe, its indigenous habitat, it sticks to fields far from human habitation. (In the Northwest U.S., where it was transplanted, it has tended to encroach on human territory much more often, although this may be changing due to increasing competition from other spider species.) But someone at some point misunderstood 'agrestis' to mean 'aggressive', and so we have a spider that's agrestis (and thus not a house spider) called 'the Aggressive House Spider'. You can find information on hobo spiders here.
* Early Christian Writings has an E-Catena; an excellent resource for understanding how the Church Fathers read the New Testament.
* Some delightful logic books online: Lewis Carroll's The Game of Logic.
Alfred James Swinburne's Picture Logic.
Martin Gardner's Logic Machines and Diagrams
D. P. Chase's A First Logic Book
Richard Whately's Easy Lessons on Reasoning
For a more advanced inquirer, John Venn's Symbolic Logic is a good discussion of Boolean logic, while his The Logic of Chance is still one of the best accounts of probability in frequentist terms. De Morgan's Syllabus of a Proposed System of Logic is worth reading, as is his Formal Logic. Boole's The Mathematical Analysis of Logic also has much food for thought.
Saturday, August 04, 2007
Friday, August 03, 2007
Rowling and Pullman
Horace Jeffery Hodges looks at Christian echoes in the Harry Potter books. (See here as well.) I had missed the "great silver cross". One of the key points of the cemetery, though, I take it, is that Voldemort tries to lay up his treasures on earth (the Horcruxes), where, of course, thief can steal, in order to destroy death; but those who oppose him treasure friendship which (as we see in the William Penn quote at the front of the book) is immortality before "that which is omnipresent" and therefore makes possible the triumph of love over death.
I think Hodges is right, incidentally, about Rowling vs. Pullman. Pullman is very clearly the better stylist; Rowling is at best inconsistent. But Rowling has far and away the better craft: Pullman is at least as inconsistent in his craft as Rowling is in her style. There's nothing wrong with that, since both are good to have, and few manage to be consistently excellent in both, particularly over several books. There's no question that Pullman is a skilled writer worth reading. But I think in the end it means that Rowling almost always hits her marks whereas Pullman hits nothing. Rita Skeeter is finely crafted to be a commentary on journalism, to take one small example of which the books have many; but nothing in Pullman's story is like this. Pullman's Magisterium is nothing like a Church, being utterly insane, and therefore cannot pull off the intended commentary on churches in general as things that "control, destroy, obliterate every good feeling"; we learn nothing about good or evil from Lyra and Will, and certainly not from the death of God, which makes no narrative sense. Part of that is due to the fact that Pullman has little more than a basic sense of narrative himself; it's why he subscribes to Blake's notion that the imaginative sympathy in Paradise Lost is with Satan, despite the fact that virtually everything in the poem is constructed so as to show that Satan is a liar and the Father of lies, who cannot even talk to himself without obviously lying, and sometimes contradicting himself, in an attempt to make himself seem bigger and more important than he is. Part of it is perhaps that Pullman can't outmaneuver Milton, for all he makes a valiant attempt. In Paradise Lost, Satan, too, is chiefly a literary stylist; it is God who has the skill of a storyteller. When Milton is the major influence, a story from the Devil's point of view will inevitably be stronger on style than storycraft. God, being Almighty, can let the tale unfold, unworried about the outcome, but for Satan to be the victor in a battle against God, the story has to be rigged, and Pullman manifestly does rig it.
But in Pullman we get a very rich style, Miltonic and at least more-or-less consistent, full of rich description and beauty. Rowling's not bad at it, but her style is far simpler and considerably less consistent. Similarly, Pullman's not horrible at storytelling -- we do get genuinely interesting bits of storyline -- but he's not nearly as consistent at it, or as frankly clever with it, as Rowling is. Rowling may seem simplistic to the superficial reader, but she can be beautifully subtle. As an example, most readers come away thinking Harry destroyed two Horcruxes. But he didn't; he only destroyed one Horcrux himself. Someone else destroyed the other one that most people attribute to him -- and it's the only person who really could have, the most narratively appropriate person possible, so that, setting aside the Horcrux destroyed by accident (but, notably, by the ones most closely associated with the room in which it was done) each Horcrux was destroyed by one of the six people in the whole world that the whole preceding storyline had shown to be the most dangerous to Voldemort. And the fact that she recognized the suitability of one of those six, and that that one had to be that one, was not just a good sense of narrative, but a sheer masterstroke of storycraft. Pullman has some beautiful subtle descriptions, but nothing remotely like that. People often make jokes about Pullman's plotting; no one could honestly do the same with Rowling.
I think Hodges is right, incidentally, about Rowling vs. Pullman. Pullman is very clearly the better stylist; Rowling is at best inconsistent. But Rowling has far and away the better craft: Pullman is at least as inconsistent in his craft as Rowling is in her style. There's nothing wrong with that, since both are good to have, and few manage to be consistently excellent in both, particularly over several books. There's no question that Pullman is a skilled writer worth reading. But I think in the end it means that Rowling almost always hits her marks whereas Pullman hits nothing. Rita Skeeter is finely crafted to be a commentary on journalism, to take one small example of which the books have many; but nothing in Pullman's story is like this. Pullman's Magisterium is nothing like a Church, being utterly insane, and therefore cannot pull off the intended commentary on churches in general as things that "control, destroy, obliterate every good feeling"; we learn nothing about good or evil from Lyra and Will, and certainly not from the death of God, which makes no narrative sense. Part of that is due to the fact that Pullman has little more than a basic sense of narrative himself; it's why he subscribes to Blake's notion that the imaginative sympathy in Paradise Lost is with Satan, despite the fact that virtually everything in the poem is constructed so as to show that Satan is a liar and the Father of lies, who cannot even talk to himself without obviously lying, and sometimes contradicting himself, in an attempt to make himself seem bigger and more important than he is. Part of it is perhaps that Pullman can't outmaneuver Milton, for all he makes a valiant attempt. In Paradise Lost, Satan, too, is chiefly a literary stylist; it is God who has the skill of a storyteller. When Milton is the major influence, a story from the Devil's point of view will inevitably be stronger on style than storycraft. God, being Almighty, can let the tale unfold, unworried about the outcome, but for Satan to be the victor in a battle against God, the story has to be rigged, and Pullman manifestly does rig it.
But in Pullman we get a very rich style, Miltonic and at least more-or-less consistent, full of rich description and beauty. Rowling's not bad at it, but her style is far simpler and considerably less consistent. Similarly, Pullman's not horrible at storytelling -- we do get genuinely interesting bits of storyline -- but he's not nearly as consistent at it, or as frankly clever with it, as Rowling is. Rowling may seem simplistic to the superficial reader, but she can be beautifully subtle. As an example, most readers come away thinking Harry destroyed two Horcruxes. But he didn't; he only destroyed one Horcrux himself. Someone else destroyed the other one that most people attribute to him -- and it's the only person who really could have, the most narratively appropriate person possible, so that, setting aside the Horcrux destroyed by accident (but, notably, by the ones most closely associated with the room in which it was done) each Horcrux was destroyed by one of the six people in the whole world that the whole preceding storyline had shown to be the most dangerous to Voldemort. And the fact that she recognized the suitability of one of those six, and that that one had to be that one, was not just a good sense of narrative, but a sheer masterstroke of storycraft. Pullman has some beautiful subtle descriptions, but nothing remotely like that. People often make jokes about Pullman's plotting; no one could honestly do the same with Rowling.
Political Discourse and Quotation
Ralph Luker has a great post commenting on some recent commentary on a speech by Obama:
One might also add to the examples Ralph gives Lincoln's Second Inaugural -- which clearly quotes Mt. 18:7 and Ps. 19:9 and alludes to Gen. 3:19 (the particular form the allusion takes shows that Lincoln is actually alluding to a previous speech in which he alluded to Gen. 3:19) and Mt. 7:1. The 'charity towards all' part is certainly derived from elsewhere, although it's sufficiently widespread at the time that a particular source might not be discoverable (but its use here is very probably influenced by 1 Peter 4:8-9; note the point about charity covering a multitude of sins). The mention of the soldier's widow and orphan taps into a long tradition of prophetic and ministerial discourse about caring for the widows and the fatherless (cf. Zech 7:10, James 1:27) that would have been recognized. Nonpartisan, to whom Ralph is responding, makes clear in the comments that Scriptural quotations are being set aside for the purpose of that argument, which focuses on quotation from the speech of other politicians; that, no doubt, is why Kennedy's "Ask Not" speech made it onto the list, since Kennedy very explicitly quotes Isaiah 58:6 and Romans 12:12. So Ralph's point needn't be seen as problematic for Nonpartisan.
But the point is important, I think, and there is an additional speech explicitly mentioned by Nonpartisan that fits it very well. Washington's Farewell Address may have no direct quotes, but it has some very clear allusions. The most obvious is the claim that virtue or morality is a necessary spring of popular government; the formulation of the maxim in terms of the 'springs of government is due to Montesquieu (The Spirit of the Laws, Book III), and since Montesuieu is widely read, it is a common claim. We find Robespierre, for instance, using very similar words just two years before (although he confines the maxim to times of peace; in times of revolution, he says, you need virtue and terror, which is a somewhat different twist). It's not a direct quotation of Montesequieu; but it's very, very close to being one.
It makes me wonder, though, if the problem is not originality or quotation of people who are effectively equals or even inferiors, as Nonpartisan suggests, but the fact that we have no political theorists worth quoting. You can build a government on Montesquieu; in the eighteenth century you could hardly do better. Even now, the primary difficulty with quoting him is just that he's over two hundred years old and no longer read by everyone interested in politics. Due to the fact that it has ongoing relevance due to reinterpretation, preaching, and the like, you can do much the same with the Bible; you have to select with good sense and good art, but you can tap into some powerful political thought by quoting the Bible. (MLK, Jr. is an excellent example of this; his task in this was made easier in part by the Social Gospel and political theological work with which he was very familiar and in part by the widespread use of the pulpit as a point from which society and sometimes government might be thoroughly critiqued.) But, honestly, what do we twenty-first century Americans have to build on? The Bible still has some residual force, perhaps; but setting that aside (and it is clear that, for a number of reasons, it would only take you so far these days, anyway) we really don't have any discourse you can build a government on. That takes both philosophy and poetry, and our talk about government has had precious little of either for a long time. And that's what's missing, I think.
Great rhetoric works best when it is not innovative, but summons us to the best that is already latent in our public memory.
One might also add to the examples Ralph gives Lincoln's Second Inaugural -- which clearly quotes Mt. 18:7 and Ps. 19:9 and alludes to Gen. 3:19 (the particular form the allusion takes shows that Lincoln is actually alluding to a previous speech in which he alluded to Gen. 3:19) and Mt. 7:1. The 'charity towards all' part is certainly derived from elsewhere, although it's sufficiently widespread at the time that a particular source might not be discoverable (but its use here is very probably influenced by 1 Peter 4:8-9; note the point about charity covering a multitude of sins). The mention of the soldier's widow and orphan taps into a long tradition of prophetic and ministerial discourse about caring for the widows and the fatherless (cf. Zech 7:10, James 1:27) that would have been recognized. Nonpartisan, to whom Ralph is responding, makes clear in the comments that Scriptural quotations are being set aside for the purpose of that argument, which focuses on quotation from the speech of other politicians; that, no doubt, is why Kennedy's "Ask Not" speech made it onto the list, since Kennedy very explicitly quotes Isaiah 58:6 and Romans 12:12. So Ralph's point needn't be seen as problematic for Nonpartisan.
But the point is important, I think, and there is an additional speech explicitly mentioned by Nonpartisan that fits it very well. Washington's Farewell Address may have no direct quotes, but it has some very clear allusions. The most obvious is the claim that virtue or morality is a necessary spring of popular government; the formulation of the maxim in terms of the 'springs of government is due to Montesquieu (The Spirit of the Laws, Book III), and since Montesuieu is widely read, it is a common claim. We find Robespierre, for instance, using very similar words just two years before (although he confines the maxim to times of peace; in times of revolution, he says, you need virtue and terror, which is a somewhat different twist). It's not a direct quotation of Montesequieu; but it's very, very close to being one.
It makes me wonder, though, if the problem is not originality or quotation of people who are effectively equals or even inferiors, as Nonpartisan suggests, but the fact that we have no political theorists worth quoting. You can build a government on Montesquieu; in the eighteenth century you could hardly do better. Even now, the primary difficulty with quoting him is just that he's over two hundred years old and no longer read by everyone interested in politics. Due to the fact that it has ongoing relevance due to reinterpretation, preaching, and the like, you can do much the same with the Bible; you have to select with good sense and good art, but you can tap into some powerful political thought by quoting the Bible. (MLK, Jr. is an excellent example of this; his task in this was made easier in part by the Social Gospel and political theological work with which he was very familiar and in part by the widespread use of the pulpit as a point from which society and sometimes government might be thoroughly critiqued.) But, honestly, what do we twenty-first century Americans have to build on? The Bible still has some residual force, perhaps; but setting that aside (and it is clear that, for a number of reasons, it would only take you so far these days, anyway) we really don't have any discourse you can build a government on. That takes both philosophy and poetry, and our talk about government has had precious little of either for a long time. And that's what's missing, I think.
Thursday, August 02, 2007
Three Poem Re-Drafts
Matutinal
In the silent distance I can hear
the tumult of the dogs a-glow;
they bound on clouds and bay.
A shaft shoots swiftly forth
to strike the fleeing beast;
it staggers, stumbles, falls.
The sun leaps up and in smooth stroke
slits the throat of darkness.
The Dragons
The dragons are restless today;
they stir up hurricane and whirlwind,
puff forests to ash,
melt stone to rivers.
It must be mating day;
they sing with low trumpet-calls,
gather together and quarrel,
do aerial combat
and other things.
Once a century they come together
to multiply,
a fruitful congregation;
but with all these steel-clad knights
who rescue stupid damsels
(the kind who never learned how
to avoid the fiery dragons)--
they'll soon be extinct.
Then no one will know what it's like
to live in a world with dragons.
Imaginations will fail,
for a dragon is a sublimity
men and women cannot imagine.
Treasury
A cathedral hewn of a single stone
holds a golden cross and an ancient throne
where the glory sat above the cherubim
in the holiest holy.
The Ge'ez prayers of an ancient rite
softly rise into velvet night
as Ezana's children pray by the wall
of the holiest holy.
I dreamed of Adsum where angels rest
on every tabot and stars are guest
at revels of hope and undying light
near the holiest holy.
Maryam Ts'iyon walks a path alone
through the cherubim beneath the throne
of the Highest High with His glorious gift,
the holiest of holies.
In the silent distance I can hear
the tumult of the dogs a-glow;
they bound on clouds and bay.
A shaft shoots swiftly forth
to strike the fleeing beast;
it staggers, stumbles, falls.
The sun leaps up and in smooth stroke
slits the throat of darkness.
The Dragons
The dragons are restless today;
they stir up hurricane and whirlwind,
puff forests to ash,
melt stone to rivers.
It must be mating day;
they sing with low trumpet-calls,
gather together and quarrel,
do aerial combat
and other things.
Once a century they come together
to multiply,
a fruitful congregation;
but with all these steel-clad knights
who rescue stupid damsels
(the kind who never learned how
to avoid the fiery dragons)--
they'll soon be extinct.
Then no one will know what it's like
to live in a world with dragons.
Imaginations will fail,
for a dragon is a sublimity
men and women cannot imagine.
Treasury
A cathedral hewn of a single stone
holds a golden cross and an ancient throne
where the glory sat above the cherubim
in the holiest holy.
The Ge'ez prayers of an ancient rite
softly rise into velvet night
as Ezana's children pray by the wall
of the holiest holy.
I dreamed of Adsum where angels rest
on every tabot and stars are guest
at revels of hope and undying light
near the holiest holy.
Maryam Ts'iyon walks a path alone
through the cherubim beneath the throne
of the Highest High with His glorious gift,
the holiest of holies.
Mixtape
A tiny taste of what I've been listening to lately....
* Johnny Cash: Ghost Riders in the Sky (originally performed by Stan Jones)
* The Who: Behind Blue Eyes
* Show of Hands: Roots
* Ella Fitzgerald: Summertime
* Charles Trénet: La mer
* Clannad: Theme from "Harry's Game"
* Sarah Brightman: Scarborough Fair
* Queen: I Want It All
* Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds: Red Right Hand
* Leonard Cohen: Dance Me to the End of Love
* The Clash: I Fought the Law (originally performed by Sonny Curtis and the Crickets)
* America: Inspector Mills
* Mocedades: Eres Tu
* Ides of March: Vehicle
* Wailin' Jennys: The Parting Glass
* Johnny Cash: Ghost Riders in the Sky (originally performed by Stan Jones)
* The Who: Behind Blue Eyes
* Show of Hands: Roots
* Ella Fitzgerald: Summertime
* Charles Trénet: La mer
* Clannad: Theme from "Harry's Game"
* Sarah Brightman: Scarborough Fair
* Queen: I Want It All
* Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds: Red Right Hand
* Leonard Cohen: Dance Me to the End of Love
* The Clash: I Fought the Law (originally performed by Sonny Curtis and the Crickets)
* America: Inspector Mills
* Mocedades: Eres Tu
* Ides of March: Vehicle
* Wailin' Jennys: The Parting Glass
Wednesday, August 01, 2007
Supposition Theory
From Chapter X of Michael Flynn's Eifelheim:
I don't think it's quite correct to say that "we don't really know what they meant by it all" (it's not like the theory of supposition is as obscure to us as, say, the theory of obligationes), but there is indeed some dispute about it. The standard view is that supposition theory is a theory of reference. That this is the standard view is in great measure due to Peter Geach. Gyula Klima has done some interesting work showing that one can actually get pretty far with the standard view; this paper (PDF) gives some idea of it. Catarina Dutilh Novaes, however, has written some interesting and excellent papers arguing that the standard view is somewhat off, and that supposition theory should be seen as an apparatus for the semantic analysis of sentences, a means by which one might uncover ambiguities and clarify them. This one (PDF) is a good place to start in order to get the gist of her argument.
I was teaching still at the Albert-Louis, and Tom sent me an e-mail asking me the manorial records for Oberhochwald to find. These were supposed to be in our University collection. I replied, Was that a personal supposition, a material supposition, or a simple supposition? And Tom responded <LOL?> because he did not understand the joke. He supplied a list of key words and a request to search our manuscripts and incunabula for references pertaining to Oberhochwald, which I suppose was fit punishment for my attempt at medieval humor. Supposition theory is not much funny, especially as we don't really know what they meant by it all.
I don't think it's quite correct to say that "we don't really know what they meant by it all" (it's not like the theory of supposition is as obscure to us as, say, the theory of obligationes), but there is indeed some dispute about it. The standard view is that supposition theory is a theory of reference. That this is the standard view is in great measure due to Peter Geach. Gyula Klima has done some interesting work showing that one can actually get pretty far with the standard view; this paper (PDF) gives some idea of it. Catarina Dutilh Novaes, however, has written some interesting and excellent papers arguing that the standard view is somewhat off, and that supposition theory should be seen as an apparatus for the semantic analysis of sentences, a means by which one might uncover ambiguities and clarify them. This one (PDF) is a good place to start in order to get the gist of her argument.
'It's Against My Religion.'
Orac notes this story about parents increasingly claiming religious exemption to prevent their children from being vaccinated. He then says,
Now, Orac is a doctor -- a surgical oncologist, if I remember correctly -- so it is not the least surprising that he gets worked up about this, and quite rightly, too. But I don't think this is quite the right way to put it. In part this is because 'giving cover to liars' is not a pernicious effect of anything; quacks appeal to science as a cover for their cons; it does not follow that quackery is a pernicious effect of science. As Orac notes, in twenty states in the U.S. you don't even need a medical or religious reason to get an exemption; a 'philosophical one' will do. This is not a case of philosophy having a pernicious effect of giving cover to antivaccination; it is a case of a law written so that a 'philosophical exemption' just becomes an exemption anyone can get without having to do anything to prove that they really have a serious philosophical reason for not vaccinating their children. The primary problem in these religious cases is clearly that there is no system of accountability in place to guarantee that religious exemptions serve the function of protecting religious freedom. As Orac notes, very few religious groups actually have an anti-vaccination stance; it has been noted in a number of surveys that most religious groups tend to be favorable toward vaccination, with Church of Christ Scientist being the major exception. Moreover, it is incorrect to say that the religious beliefs "clash" with the scientifically proven abilities of vaccines; unless the religious beliefs are that the vaccines don't work, which is also going to be rare, rather than (say) some view about what is required for the integrity of the body, there is no clash. Medical science is an instrumental discipline, not a normative one; it can't "clash" with a norm, however bad for health that norm may be. What is at stake here is a clash between personal moral opinion -- a community opinion in the rare genuine case of religious exemption, like that of the Christian Scientists -- and the general political and moral interest in a healthy populace.
The pernicious effect of religion here is more than just on the children of parents who follow specific religions that may find vaccines objectionable (which, by the way are few in number). In this case, religion gives cover to parents who just don't want to vaccinate because of pseudoscientific fear-mongering or "philosophy." Undue respect for religious beliefs that clash with the scientifically proven ability of vaccines to prevent disease safely enables these parents to easily bypass vaccination laws. With an increasing number of states providing more and more religious and "philosophical" exemptions to vaccines, I fear that it will only be a matter of time before diseases once thought vanquished return in a big way on these shores.
Now, Orac is a doctor -- a surgical oncologist, if I remember correctly -- so it is not the least surprising that he gets worked up about this, and quite rightly, too. But I don't think this is quite the right way to put it. In part this is because 'giving cover to liars' is not a pernicious effect of anything; quacks appeal to science as a cover for their cons; it does not follow that quackery is a pernicious effect of science. As Orac notes, in twenty states in the U.S. you don't even need a medical or religious reason to get an exemption; a 'philosophical one' will do. This is not a case of philosophy having a pernicious effect of giving cover to antivaccination; it is a case of a law written so that a 'philosophical exemption' just becomes an exemption anyone can get without having to do anything to prove that they really have a serious philosophical reason for not vaccinating their children. The primary problem in these religious cases is clearly that there is no system of accountability in place to guarantee that religious exemptions serve the function of protecting religious freedom. As Orac notes, very few religious groups actually have an anti-vaccination stance; it has been noted in a number of surveys that most religious groups tend to be favorable toward vaccination, with Church of Christ Scientist being the major exception. Moreover, it is incorrect to say that the religious beliefs "clash" with the scientifically proven abilities of vaccines; unless the religious beliefs are that the vaccines don't work, which is also going to be rare, rather than (say) some view about what is required for the integrity of the body, there is no clash. Medical science is an instrumental discipline, not a normative one; it can't "clash" with a norm, however bad for health that norm may be. What is at stake here is a clash between personal moral opinion -- a community opinion in the rare genuine case of religious exemption, like that of the Christian Scientists -- and the general political and moral interest in a healthy populace.
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