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Camillus
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Name: Paul
Location: Jackson, Michigan, United States
Birthday: 2/17/1986
Gender: Male
Interests: Chess, reading and writing prose and poetry, literary studies. I love language, for "in the beginning was the Word." I enjoy theology and philosophy as well.
Expertise: I'm not certain I have an expertise. If I do have one, it's finding good books, usually at the recommendation of "those who know," to quote Plato. Not much of an expertise, you might say, but I can't think of one that would have benefited me more.
Occupation: Student
Industry: Education/Research
Message: message me
Member Since:
2/9/2005
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| Just a short note...
I didn't realize until just now that the three races on Malacandra, in Lewis' Out of the Silent Planet, are meant as the three classes of Plato's city-state, and also of the three components of the human soul. The following probably will make no sense to any who haven't read the book, and don't read it if you don't want a few surprises spoiled. Anyway: the sorns are the guardians/mind, the hrossa are the auxilliaries/spirit, and the pfifiltriggi (yes, I think I mispelled it) are laborers/appetite. Lewis does not agree entirely with Plato, however. He takes a much more optimistic view of appetite/commons/pfiiltriggi than Plato does. A sanctification of a pagan concept? Most definitely. The beauty of Malacandra is that the three races are content in their relations to each other. Pfifiltriggi will mount no rebellion against the sorns and hrossa, as Plato would have depicted. Instead, they will acknowledge the rightful leadership of the sorns in matters intellectual, of the hrossa in matters poetical, and their own in matters mechanical. This does not make the other races better, just different. This is a wonderful way to reconcile the rule of the elite of talent (in the sense the American Founders would have used the thought) with the equal value of all men. Different men rule different spheres in relation to their different, innate, God-given abilities, without effect upon their worths as men.
Valete! | | |
| I promised something better, so here it is (I hope).
As I think I have mentioned, Perelandra, by C.S. Lewis, provided an important corrective for me in that it dispelled some Miltonian and Goethean conceptions of Satan that, in retrospect, were to charitable to the Adversary. In fact, Goethe's and Milton's Satans are quite sympathetic, at least at some level. Especially in Goethe's telling of the Faust myth, "Satan is a gentleman." Perelandra provided corrective clarity in that it portrayed Satan (or at least a demon high in the hierarchy (or low in the lowerarchy, depending on if you've read Screwtape) of hell, as not inherently intelligent, but using intelligence as only a tool to achieve its larger end of defiance of God, in this case through the ruin of the newborn race on Venus. I don't know why I hadn't thought of this before. If we accept intelligence as at root a good (as God is infinitely intelligent, I would think we must), then Satan must desire to negate it, for he makes war against all good. He still possesses the capacity for intelligence (that much is clear from the temptations we experience), but he uses it only as a tool if the ruin of some good greater than that of his own intelligence is at stake. This realization of the non-intelligence of Satan was a sobering reminder that, at root, evil is not at all attractive, but grotesque, corrupted, misshapen, and brutish. I cannot recommend Perelandra high enough, both for its portrayal of evil and for myriad other reasons. | | |
| Last time I posted, I was in school. I had no time, was studying for tests, and was creating that istam art project. But now, at last, I have freedom. I have been reading everything I can lay hands on, which is quite the experience, as most of what I lay hands on is Lewis, Eliot, Williams, etc. Anyway, a few reflections...
Perelandra might just be the best book ever. Not really; even confining myself to English, there are a few books that I must call better. But not many. I feel it is the best of Lewis' space trilogy (even though I loved the Arthurian element in That Hideous Strength). The hymn at the end should be found in every church songbook. The portrayal of Satan is so different from the typical Faustian pictures, although it has something in common, perhaps, with Thomas Mann's understanding of evil in his Dr. Faustus. Nevertheless, I believe Lewis is probably closer to accuracy than the Fausians, although one could argue that the Faustians are only showing Mephistopheles as he appears to Faust/Faustus, and that he sees intelligence as a tool just as Unman.
Harking back to schooldays... One of my favorite reads in school was Murder in the Cathedral. The chief beauty of this little play, at least for me, lies in the simple yet extraordinary injunction to leave all consequences in the hands of God. So simple, so easy-sounding, and yet quite nearly impossible. The knights' political speeches at the end really grabbed my attention as well. They sound so much like our modern politicians.
The Discarded Image: A different side of Lewis from Narnia and Deep Space. I finished this early this morning, so I'm still digesting. I'll get back to you on it. I already know I really liked it.
essays of George Orwell: Although I disagree with Orwell politically, I still find his literary criticism valuable. From him I have learned a new word: tripe, meaning bad literature, usually of the pulpish variety. Isn't that a tremendous word? It conveys such a sense of distaste on the part of the speaker for the tripe in question. One more motivation to never write an unworthy word.
I realize all this is just summary. Later tonight or tomorrow I'll make an actually thoughtful post. Just thought I'd catch my peeps up on my summer thus far.
Valete, omnes.
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| Wow, I've been gone a really long time. So, I've been musing a
lot lately about the dual nature of man. I find it most
interesting that man possesses both reason and passion, and this makes
him different than mechanical or animal beings. I started
thinking about other things that exist as such a synthesis of reason
and passion, and I found that music and poetry were the only things of
which I could think that were also syntheses. Then I looked at
the Scriptural account of Creation, and discovered that God, with the
same breath with which he spoke the universe into existence, breathed
into the body of man to create his soul. It struck me that the
same breath that had carried the words into the Void to create the
world of order and beauty, of reason and passion, had become incarnate
in the soul of man. This explains the diverse elements of the
soul. How, then, ought we to live? As though the soul of
each of us were a "little word" (Chesterton's expression, not mine)
being sung in praise back to God, for only then will our reason and
passion become reconciled. The world was created to bring praise
to God in all its reason and passion; the soul of man can be no
different. Together, humanity, each with a "little word" makes up
a song, a great song, a Great Music, such as Tolkien predicts in the
Ainulindale, in the Silmarillion. Come join in the Music.
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| Salvete, omnes!
I'm finally back after a lot of schoolwok, but I only have a short post today. Here's the question: if you were Neo, and you had the choice to save Zion or save Trinity, who would you save? | | |
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