Sunday, October 07, 2007

Has it really been June since I posted?

The bad news is, I can't remember much about what I've read since then. The good news is, that which I do remember must necessarily be the best parts.

Byron Katie: A Thousand Names for Joy

The chief thing that I remember about this book is that it kept me from killing my family when we were vacationing together. I read it while we were going through Italy in July, and Tensions were high. Thanks to Byron Katie, every time I caught myself thinking, "My sister is a selfish imbecile," or "My brother is a conceited dick," I would ask myself:

1. Is this true? (somewhat.)
2. Can I absolutely know for certain that it is true? (Only insofar as we can know anything is true, which is probably not a useful answer).
3. How do I feel when I think this? (irritated and superior)
4. Whom would I be without this thought? (My real self. Calm and forgiving.)

And then I would turn it around--My sister is not a selfish imbecile; she simply seems to be that person when we all get together, because that is the role she accustomed to playing and the way in which we are accustomed to see her. My Brother is not the selfish dick; I am (true!).

We all have terrible, foolish, or outright false thoughts. That can't be avoided. The trick, as Katie points out, is not to believe them solely on their having been thought. Any thought that cause discomfort or annoyance, flip it around. See if it's really true. Then believe it or don't, as you see fit. Be critical of your thoughts. And it worked.

Suetonius: The Twelve Caesars

Wow, this fucks Tacitus in the Ass! Succinct, epigrammatic, engaging and accessible. A must read.

Charles Dickens: Master Humphrey's Clock

Interesting mostly from a contextual standpoint, except for one little item that begs to be scholarized. "A Confession Found in a Prison in the Time of Charles II" is about a man who kills and buries his nephew, whose penetrating gaze is unnerves him into a first-degree homicidal mania. Sound familiar? Just wait. He buries the child, and seemingly gets away with the perfect crime. When the Gendarmes come to question him about the boys disappearance, he hubristically sets his chair on the very spot where the boy is buried. Alas, the murderers nerves give him away, and the body is discovered. By now, you should be asking yourself whether Poe copied Dickens or the other way around. As far as I can tell, this has not been discussed in scholarly circles, and I could make my name on it . . .

1 and 2 Chronicles

This is like 1 and 2 Kings for beginners. Clearer and more linear. Sadly, it eliminates most of the negative parts. I feel like it was written by Israel's publicist. And every time I read "And as for the rest of the affairs of (King's name) are they not written in (Name of undiscovered apocryphal book)?" I wonder where all these other books are. Except for the "Prayer of Manasseh", I have never heard of any of them.

William Shakespeare: Timon of Athens

Clearly a "problem play", but one with a lot of potential. When I first started reading Shakespeare-- around 22 years ago?--I was smitten with the smart, engaging characters. Here were people to whom I could relate! As I grew up, my understanding deepened. I began to appreciate the language, the theatricality, the thematic integrity just as much. In college, however, I came to the ultimate understanding of Shakespeare--he writes Science Fiction. In each play, he invents a parallel world, one that mirrors ours, but imperfectly. In the alternate universe where Timon takes place, the byword is "pretense". Every character, down to the assorted one-line merchants and rabble, has his persona on, but just askew enough to let us see that it is a persona. How cool would it be to produce Timon with elaborate masks? Favorite line: "O, my good lord! The world is but a word. / Were it all yours to give it with a breath, / how quickly were it gone!" (II.2.162-4).

Philip K. Dick: Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?

I look forward to teaching this. It has such lovely levels. I wish I wasn't so damned tired; I might have more to say.