Tuesday, February 28, 2006

Book Review: The Annals

The version of Tacitus' masterpiece that I read was from The Complete Works of Tacitus, translated by Alfred John Church and William Jackson Brodribb. While this edition is cheap and does include all of Tacitus' works, it fails to include footnotes or maps. Since I was primarily interested in a quick read through rather than a study, this lack of scholarly aids did not bother me too much, though the names (both of people and places) come fast and furious. I am not going to comment on the accuracy or skill of the translators since I have only read a few sections of Tacitus in the original, and even that was without any professorial guidance.

Given that my read was a quick one (or as quick as a 400 page read can be), I'll confine myself to basic impressions. The feeling consistent throughout the whole work was that of horror. Free speech died in Rome after Julius Caesar and then was completely extirpated by Tiberius. The political machinations of a totalitarian state (which Rome was for the senatorial classes) is horrifying to read: betrayals, murders, and suicides are near continuous whenever Tacitus dwells on events in Rome. He apologizes for his material, but maintains that such deeds cannot be forgotten. Tacitus' military accounts are generally poor, though whether from a lack of understanding or a because of his specific ideology I don't know.* Even the relatively benign reigns of Tiberius and Claudius proved deadly to the ruling class.

As a cynical, world-weary historian, Tacitus also uses his Annals to make comments on universal human nature. My favorite observation of his dealt with fear:
The Senate and the leading citizens were in doubt whether to regard him as more terrible at a distance or among them. After a while, as is the way with great terrors, they thought what happened the worst alternative.
The same sentiment might be found in college football fans or avid followers of politics.

Tacitus also mentions Christians in what is one of the earliest references to them in non-Christian test. The context is, of course, the great fire and the accusation that Nero himself set it so that he could redesign the city to his whim:
Consequently, to get rid of the report, Nero fastened the guilt and inflicted the most exquisite tortures on a class hated for their abominations, called Christians by the populace. Christus, from whom the name had its origin, suffered the extreme penalty during the reign of Tiberius at the hands of one of our procurators, Pontius Pilatus, and a most miscievous superstition, thus checked for the moment, again broke out not only in Judaea, the first source of the evil, but even in Rome, where all things hideous and shameful from every part of the world find their centre and become popular. Accordingly, an arrest was first made of all who pleaded guilty; then, upon their information, an immense multitude was convicted, not so much of the crime of firing the city, as of hatred against mankind. Mockery of every sort was added to their deaths. Covered with the skins of beasts, they were torn by dogs and perished, or were nailed to crosses, or were doomed to the flames and burnt, to serve as a nightly illumination, when daylight had expired.

Nero offered his gardens for the spectacle, and was exhibiting a show in the circus, while he mingled witht he people in the dress of a charioteer or stood aloft on a car. Hence, even for criminals who deserved extreme and exemplary punishment, there arose a feeling of compassion; for it was not, as it seemed, for the public good, but to glut one man's cruelty, that they had been destroyed.
Aside from its obvious religious interest, this passage makes clear just how violent the Roman world was. Note how Tacitus, who rails against the injustices and evils perpetrated by emperors, takes exception not that people were burned alive and torn apart by wild animals but that the whole affair was part of a show.

Is it good or bad that the Emperor Claudius and I independently had the same thoughts about the fall of the Athenian Empire?:
What was the ruin of Sparta and Athens, but this, that mighty as they were in war, they spurned from them as aliens those whom they had conquered? Our founder Romulus, on the other hand, was so wise that he fought as enemies and then hailed as fellow-citizens several nations on the very same day. Strangers have reigned over us. That freedman's sons should be intrusted with public offices is not, as many wrongly think, a sudden innovation, but was a common practice in the old commonwealth. (11.24)
I'd like to think good, if only for the joy of touching someone's mind (whether that of Claudius or Tacitus) across so many centuries. Classics can be quite rewarding for this reason.

Unless one is severely strapped for cash, I would recommend a different edition. The lack of any any scholarly apparatus is critical; however, I bought this edition because I had heard bad things about Michael Grant's translation. Oh well. Would the general reader be interested at all? I would think so, though not necessarily for the entire work. Some general knowledge of Roman history would of course be helpful.



*See Sallust by Sir Ronald Syme if you're simply dying to read about the ideology of ancient historians.

Monday, February 27, 2006

Book Review: The Thousandfold Thought

The Thousandfold Thought is the third and final book in R. Scott Bakker's The Prince of Nothing series (The Darkness That Comes Before and The Warrior-Prophet are books 1 and 2.). Two important prefaces should be remembered regarding by thoughts on this book: 1.) It is a book of great complexity which I have only read once; 2.) Bakker plans two more series in this world, thus plot holes might not necessarily be plot holes, etc.

My thoughts on finishing The Thousandfold Thought were: "Well, I'm glad that's over. Now I can go to bed." Not exactly what I'd anticipated since I regarded the first two books of The Prince of Nothing over George R. R. Martin's A Song of Ice and Fire.

The first noticeable problem with the book was that it felt very rushed. While I got a feeling for the people (all returned from the previous books), I never got a feeling for the places. That the Holy War was going to leave said place in a few pages was not exactly helpful. Since part of the charm of fantasy books is their unique environs, this lack of empathy for the land is a serious flaw in Bakker's otherwise powerful writing. Another problem with this neglect for the landscape is that the battles, since they are very realistically told, are dependent upon the topography of their locations. The battle in front of Caraskand from The Warrior Prophet was easy enough to understand, since the protagonists had spent a great deal of time there already. The same cannot be said for the fight for Shimeh. It is taxing to learn the rather complex lay of the land so that you can then apply it to complex tactical maneuvers all in a single chapter. The end felt even more rushed than the rest of the book. The Mathainet plotline was somewhat implausibly tied up in a section of a chapter, Achamian's battle with the Ciphrang was enigmatic to the extreme (Bakker actually clears this up on his website. Why he should have to clear it up is beyond me.), and finally the resolution to the battle before Shimeh comes completely out of the blue.

Bakker's metaphysics also gave me some fits, though all my problems could very easily be cleared up in his forthcoming books. The reason for the Consult's seemingly pointless urge for destruction is finally revealed, and it's a pretty good one, though I'm annoyed by the whole "Cycle of Souls" concept.* The problem as I see it is that the Inchoroi are not from Earwa, proving that there was at least one sentient species apart from those on Earwa. If the Inchoroi are the last of their kind and there are no other soul-bearing species in the universe, then I can see the point of their plan. If this is not the case, then I don't see how it could succeed. Why should physical proximity have anything to do with the Outside? Doesn't that take away from the power of the Outside? Making it, in fact, not the Outside but rather Some Other Place? My second problem with Bakker's metaphysics is that he neglects them almost entirely for the for first two books for no reason that I can see. Facts, such as the reasoning behind the Consult, come as surprises when they shouldn't really be surprises since all the main characters were aware of them from or near the beginning. Bakker is extremely intelligent. I'm sure he has an explanation for my nitpicking of his metaphysics, but he did leave his system open to questioning. Had he introduced the depths of his system in the first two books, these problems would be non-existent.

Another problem with the book was the overwhelming darkness. Bakker has made his book so "realistic" that his plot becomes predictable. The sequence with the two orphans from the Thousand Temples. As soon as their situation was revealed, it became perfectly obvious that one, if not both, would get to see the Shriah and then be captured by slavers. Bakker needs to mix in a few happy plotlines just to keep the reader the honest.

What's good about the book? Well, what was good about the last books. The world is dazzlingly complex, while the historical parallels are interesting rather than overbearing. I enjoy the hints of the previous Apocalypse the most. Unfortunately, these positive attributes can't counteract what is the Bakker's biggest failing: The Thousandfold Thought suffers from "Matrix Syndrome," in that the revealed grand conspiracy can't quite match the expectations aroused by the previous installments. I don't want to draw the comparison too far. After all, I did not once experience the urge to shoot myself while reading The Thousandfold Thought (a frequent occurrence during The Matrix: Revolutions). Still, it cannot be denied that The Thousandfold Thought was disappointing and nowhere near the fitting end for a fantasy series with a lot of potential. I would only advise reading The Thousandfold Thought if you were a big enough fan of the prior books that you demand to know what happened to the characters.



*I tend to view this as the height of modern arrogance: the gods are dependent on our worship for power. Doesn't that make them not inherently worthy of worship? Is this really a modern disease, or does it have ancient roots? One would think I would know this kind of fact, but one would, in fact, be wrong.

Friday, February 24, 2006

Book Review: The Closing of the American Mind

An amazing and humbling book, and also one that I wish I had read while I was still in college. Bloom's basic thesis is pretty simple: 1.) Democracies are inimical to any kind of elitism; 2.) The primary role of the university in a democracy is to create a philosophical elite (Nothing scary here. By philosophical elite he means a group of people capable of asking and attempting to answer the Big Questions which he defines as "reason-revelation, freedom-necessity, democracy-aristocracy, good-evil, body-soul, self-other, city-man, eternity-time, being-nothing."); 3.) American universities have manifestly faield on all accounts due to a collusion between the native democratic impulse and imported German philosophy that attacked the foundations of reason. The three points that I have laid out are only the briefest description of a tremendously deep book.

Bloom also says a lot of other things obviously and says them extremely well. He talks about race, music, and the sixties in a completely unapologetic tone, which may cause some readers to be put off. They shouldn't be. Even if they disagree (perhaps vehemently) they should stay the course and see if they agree with Bloom's basic point. Closing can be quite difficult to get trough at points, not because of the writing style but because of the material it covers. It would behoove the reader immensely to have some familiarity with Plato, Aristotle, Hobbes, Locke, Rousseau, Nietszche, Kant, Hegel, Heidegger, and Weber (I had only the most passing familiarity with any of these but could still follow Bloom's basic thread, so don't lose heart). If the book does prove to be too much, skip ahead to the last section: "The University." Here lies the core of Bloom's message, although without most of this supporting argument, i.e. the majority of the book.

Politics: Touchdown Mohammed


Even though they are from Michigan, I have to give the creators of MichiganZone credit. It's absolutely brilliant satire.

Religion: The Vagina Monologues and ND

For the fifth consecutive year The Vagina Monologues were put on at Notre Dame (funded by the English Department rather than Film, Television, and Theater this year), albeit in a more circumspect way than previously due to the thoughts of the new regime. Below is the letter I wrote to Fr. Jenkins (the new President of Notre Dame):

Fr. Jenkins,

I am writing to express my support for the actions you have taken thus far, to describe my own thoughts concerning The Vagina Monologues, and also to express an area of concern highlighted by the current debate over academic freedom.

Your decision to appear before the faculty and then the students was an extraordinary example of the mission of a University President; you brought the campus together as a community of scholars. It is also heartening to hear your position put forward in clear and unambiguous language. A debate between such core concepts as the Catholic Identity of the school and Academic Freedom demands that the President make clear the administration's position. Finally, I agree with the steps you have taken so far in changing the name of The Queer Film Fesitval and limiting The Vagina Monologues.

Regarding The Vagina Monologues, I would like to begin with the statement that I an not completely opposed to the play appearing on campus. The work is not without some artistic merit (as its numerous fans will only be too eager to inform you), and, even if its artistry is not considered, the Monologues as a cultural phenomenon is worthy of study no matter how one views the play's message or means of delivering that message.

My objections to the Monologues rest on the fact that their continuing performance is purely a matter of ideology. No play is worthy of being put on year after year based on artistic merit alone. Since the production of the Monologues is ideological in nature, my problem with it is two-fold: sponsorship and connections. You have expressed your views on sponsorship already, so I see no reason to elaborate on a line of argument inferior to your own. On the second point, however, I think this
communication may be of some use. The Vagina Monologues is not performed in a vacuum. It is part of the larger program of Eve Ensler's V-Day. Despite some admirable goals, V-Day promotes a view of the world and of human sexuality directly in conflict with the Church. I find it highly relevant to the discussion that V-Day is an active, current organization with explicit goals. The University of Notre Dame should not be expected to fund and propagate annually the message of an organization dedicated to ends at odds with the Church in the name of academic freedom. Were the on-campus organizers of the Monologues to choose a different play to address their concerns--a play unconnected with an objectionable larger movement--I cannot see there being this controversy.


Finally, I wish to discuss one of the underlying causes of this entire controversy over academic freedom. A story from the January 26th edition of The Observer enabled me to make this connection. The quote in question describes the English Department's decision to fund the Monologues: "Of the 30 or so faculty members (out of a department of approximately 40) who attended the vote, all elected to sponsor the 'Monologues,' he [Handler] said. And debate was 'definitely more charged' than in 2002." A performance that you considered troubling was supported unanimously by one of your major departments. I think I may safely assume that many other departments would vote similarly. Not unrelated is the fact that exactly two from all my classes at Notre Dame began with a daily prayer. The faculty's decades-long drift from Catholicism ensures that a far larger number of professors than desirable (some dissent is essential to learning) will teach, support, and research ideas and positions at odds with the Church. I by no means advocate a compoletely monolithic body of professors, but I find it hard to believe that the faculty can effectively accomplish its mission (or even want to accomplish its mission) in sync with the administration and students, unless the majority of professors are practicing Catholics. The current controversy over the Monologues is thus a symptom of a far larger problem. From discussion with professors, I am aware of the difficulty in assembling a faculty that is at the forefront of its respective fields and yet Catholic. I am also aware that the administration is doing its best to hire Catholic faculty.

Thank you for your time.

Sincerely,


Blogging, Take Two . . . Statement of Purpose

A new beginning. New title, new domain name, new description, new template--same old blogger though. About the changes: I like the new title better (pretentious though it may be), while the new domain name is far easier to use.

First, "Phulax Tou Kalou," for all you non-readers of ancient Greek, means "Guardian of the Good." The quote following my blog's title gives some of my feelings as to how that might best be achieved. Alas, due to charcter restriction, I was not able to post the full quote from Chesterton's The Thing, which is as follows:
In the matter of reforming things, as distinct from deforming them, there is one plain and simple principle; a principle which will probably be called a paradox. There exists in such a case a certain institution or law; let us say for the sake of simplicity, a fence or gate errected across a road. The more modern type of reformer goes gaily up to it and says, "I don't see the use of this; let us clear it away." To which the more intelligent type of reformer will do well to anwer: "If you don't see the use of it, I certainly won't let you clear it away. Go away and think. Then, when you can come back and tell me that you do see the use of it, I may allow you to destroy it."

This paradox rests on the most elementary common sense. The gate or fence did not grow there. It was not set up by somnambulists who built it in their sleep. It is highly improbable that it was put there by escaped lunatics who were for some reason loose in the street. Some person had some good reason for thinking it would be a good thing for somebody. And until we know what the reason was, we really cannot judge whether the reason was reasonable. It is extremely probable that we have overlooked some whole aspect of the question, if something set up by human beings like ourselves seems to be entirely meaningless and mysterious. There are reformers who get over this difficulty by assuming that all their fathers were fools; but if that be so, we can only say that folly appears to be a hereditary disease. But the truth is that nobody has any business to destroy a social institution until he has really seen it as an historical institution. If he knows how it arose, and what purposes it was supposed to serve, he may really be able to say that they were bad purposes, or that they have since become bad purposes, or that they are purposes which are no longer served. But if he simply stares at the thing as a senseless monstrosity that has somehow sprung up in his path, it is he and not the traditionalist who is suffering from an illusion. We might even say that he is seeing things in a nightmare. This principle applies to a thousand things, to trifles as well as true institutions, to convention as well as conviction. It was exactly the sort of person, like Joan of Arc, who did know why women wore skirts, who was most justified in not wearing one; it was exactly the sort of person, like St. Francis, who did sympathise with the feast and the fireside, who was most entitled to become a beggar on the open road. And when, in the general emancipation of modern society, the Duchess says she does not see why she shouldn't play leapfrog, or the Dean declares that he sees no valid canonical reason why he should not stand on his head, we may say to these persons with patient benevolence: "Defer, therefore, the operation you contemplate until you have realized by ripe reflection what principle or prejudice you are violating. Then play leapfrog and stand on your head and the Lord be with you."
In terms of content, book reviews feature most prominently, for my own benefit as well as yours, dear reader. Music reviews (of CDs) will also make the occasional appearance along with those of movies. I will commentate on Notre Dame Football and the Cleveland Indians when appropriate. Especially incisive paragraphs of especially incisive articles will also be posted. Finally, I hope to compose a longer post of some topic of (my) interest about once a week, though probably more like once a month.