Apocalypse Now

I don't like war films. There always seems to be a lot of "Hoohah!" and "Fuck yeah!" and nonsense about glory and honor and bravery, none of which means very much to me in that context.  To me, there's more bravery and glory in the simple act of getting out of bed in the morning than in taking a machine gun and blowing shit up.  For that reason such favorites as Rambo and Top Gun don't just leave me cold, I actively hate them. Is there really anything enjoyable in that sort of macho nonsense?  Not for me.

Which is why I am surprised to be writing that Apocalypse Now may very well be the greatest movie I've ever seen.  Nothing about it felt affected or pretentious, and that sort of epic often deteriorates into a masturbatory spectacle.  The performances were impeccable, every last one, to the extent that I often wondered if there was even a script at all.  Certain of the soldiers' monologues especially struck me as uncommonly honest.  Of course, Coppola's camerawork and vision were also spot on, and the overall result was an immensely satisfying ambiguity that kept it far away from anything didactic. 

It is a bonus to my marginally literary mindset that it was not only flawless as a movie, but also literate, weaving in elements of Conrad and Eliot without making those things the centerpiece of the film.  I am pressing my mind to think of a "however", some point that was less than perfect, but I have nothing.  It was a masterpiece of film, and of literature.

이문열: 우리들의 일그러진 영웅

미국에서는 Huckleberry Finn이나 Lord of the Flies이란 책 시민의 80% 이상이 읽었으니까 그 책들을 읽어야 미국을 이해할 수 있다.  그래서 제가 한국을 이해하기 위해 친구에게 "중하생들 모두다 읽어야 하는 책은 무엇이냐"고 물었다.  답은 "우리들의 일그러진영웅"이었다. 

그 책을 읽기 시작했을 때는 벙역 없이 약 10%를 이해할 수 있었다.  한국어 실력이 노파질수록 이해하기가 더 쉬워졌지만 오늘 읽은 마지막 쪽을 50%밖에 이해 못 했다.  아쉽게도 중학생의 수준이 아닌 것 같는다. 

그래도 번역 덕분에 이 첵은 한국 사회를 잘 표시하는 지를 알게 되었다.  다른 독자가 다르게 생각할 수 있지만 제 생각은 엄속대가 일본을 비유하며 문제를 해결한 담임선생님은 미국.  전 미국을 존경하기 때문 아니라 오하려 미국은 별로 좋지 않다고 생각하는 만큼 담임선생님의 해결 방법을 승인하지 않는다.  그래도 한극의 해방에 데한 비유로 이 책만 할 것이 없다고 생각한다.

Philip K. Dick: Galactic Pot Healer

I have long held Dick to in my holy trinity of Sci Fi writers, alongside Vonnegut and Asimov, but this books really serves to highlight the ways in which he can't hold his own alongside the other two.  As always, in Pot-Healer he is observant, profound and very nearly clarivoyant, but as in most of his other works the structure and plot are just sloppy enough that it loses something.  In Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep, I found myself giving him that benefit of the doubt that we sometimes grant out of instinct when a book is generally well regarded, and assumed that the inconsistencies or strange, misplaced beats were purposeful and woven into the overall theme somehow.  Unlike in Sheep, however, those moments were so prevalent in Pot-Healer that I can't bring myself to give Dick the same kind of credit here.

Which is a shame, because he managed to put something into words that I really love:

"What do I really yearn for? he asked himself.  That for which oral gratification is a surrogate. Something vast, he decided; he felt the primordial hunger gape, huge-jawed, as if to cannibalize everything around him.  To place what was outside inside."

This is exactly my experience.  I love to eat, drink, kiss, bite, swallow, anything one can do with one's mouth.  And it is exactly as Dick details: the desire to consume, to somehow be bigger and exterior to something else.  I also happen to have the obverse urge as well:  to sing, fart, belch, talk, yell and otherwise put what was part of me outside of myself, to somehow make my nature part of the greater order.  And so I have a blog.

1 Timothy

1:2 In addition to Paul's usual wishes of grace and mercy, he adds a blessing of mercy here.  An interesting choice.  What could have transpired in Timothy's life to make Paul perceive a need for mercy?

1:3 and also what were they teaching in Ephesus, such that Paul felt Timothy's presence there was needed?  His letter to them didn't have the same warnings as certain other letters, and I found it mostly warm and uplifting, rather than admonitory.

1:4,7 His reference to genealogies and law makes me wonder if there wasn't a problem with Judaizers, such as he observed in other congregations.

1:16 Oh, this is elegant.  Paul tiintroduced the idea of mercy ever so gently in his introduction, no doubt with the intention to develop it more fully here--but not as expected! 

1:18 Here's another interesting bit of trivia.  Evidently Paul received prophecies specifically with regard to Timothy's role.  Could they be the very visions that he hinted at in his letter to the Ephesians, thus prompting him to station Timothy there?

1:20 And what does Paul mean by turning these two "over to Satan"?  Simply that he has given up on them, in which case how could he possibly hope that they would "learn not to blaspheme", or is there some more complex metaphysical dynamic at work here?

2:2 Paul's first direction to Timothy is pretty bland.  He asks for prayers that the authorities will leave them alone. 

2:5 From where is Paul quoting here?

2:12 Paul's doctrine here not only grates, but it does not hold water.  He speaks from his own authority, saying "I permit no woman to teach" instead of indicating that the directive comes from any higher source, but the usual source of Paul's authority--his sound logic and theology--does not hold up here.  He cites as his reason that the woman was deceived and not Adam, but does that no make Adam more culpable than Eve?

3:1-13 Paul's qualifications for Bishop and Deacon are interesting, insofar as there is so little space between them.  The main difference is that Bishops musn't be new converts for fear of being "puffed up with conceit".  Is that really the only difference?  Seniority?

3:16 I'm really curious whether Paul is quoting something here, or lapsing into verse.  If the former, from where is he quoting?  If the latter, is it any good?

4:1 And here's the meat of his theology for this book.  The preceding directives are merely organizational in nature, but here he hits on the real point of his writing: that some are adding unnecessary proscriptions to the message.  He calls it hypocrisy, though I don't know if that's accurate unless they themselves are taking wives and forbidding other to.  At any rate, it makes the point of his outlining the qualifications for leadership clear.  In Ch. 3 he makes a point of saying that deacons and bishops are not forbidden to marry, but they should in fact be married--only once.

5:2 This is not the first time Paul has reminded Timothy to remain chaste.  I'm not clear on his standards here.  If Timothy decided to get married, would it not fall in line with the qualifications set out in Ch. 3?

5:9 What list?  The list of "actual widows"? 

5:12 So a widow remarrying is proscripted?

5:19 this is an interesting translation of a familiar verse.  In my upbringing, testimony from two or more witnesses was required in all cases.  In this translation, it is only against elders that such heightened burden of proof is warranted.

5:24 I really like this verse.  Indeed, some people sins (and good works, for that matter) follow them to the grave, others precede them there.

6:16  Wait a minute, hasn't Paul himself claimed to have seen Christ? 

Man, this whole thing just doesn't feel like Paul to me.  The faulty logic, the poetic interludes, the seeming inconsistencies.  I just don't feel the same voice here.

Unforgiven and The Grapes of Wrath

I didn't originally set out to place these two movies back to back, but I watched them in succession, so naturally the parallels stick out in my mind.  To be specific, both movies focus on a likeable, if rough protagonist, who is laboring to deal with his past mistakes in the American West.  Both movies were enjoyable and orth the time, but the successes of Unforgiven made the two minor weaknesses in Grapes of Wrath a bit more clear.

Firstly, I had a problem with John Ford's pacing and editing in Grapes of Wrath.  I couldn't tell what was so offputting about his transitions at first, but little scenes like focusing on a sign that said "Welcome to Arizona" for a few seconds before cutting to the next bit of plot development just jarred me.  Would it have been so difficult to just have that sign pass by while we were observing something else?  Did it really need it's own shot?  And he did that sort of thing a lot.  Even the scenes that propelled the plot felt popped out of a kit and lain next to each other instead of fitting together like a puzzle. 

Watching Unforgiven next made me realize exactly what was missing in Ford's equation.  Having observed this fault in GOW, I was watching for it and was surprised to realize that Eastwood did the same sort of piecing together, but it wasn't nearly so jarring.  What was the magic ingredient?  The soundtrack.  The presence of a piece of music lain over a series of potentially jarring scene cuts just made me more comfortable, and my mind was fooled into thinking that there were appropriate transitions.  Which makes one wonder, did Ford just not like using music, or was it not yet the cinematic convention that it is now? 

That minor greivance aside, both movies were well worth their place on the AFI's 100 films list, largely with the help of superb performances all around.  Hats off to Henry Fonda for making a potential didactic character quite lovable. 

한국 문화 77

Paul Nation 언어학자가 효과적인 두번째 언어 습득 프로그렘은 가닥 네개가 있다고 한다.  먼저, 의미에 치중하는 입력이 필요하며, 그다음에 언어에 치중하는 이력, 유창성의 연습, 의미에 치중하는 출력이 순이다.  그 네 가지중에 의미에 치중하는 입력의 부족을 여겨 그 부족을 보원하기 위해 이 쉬운 책을 읽었다. 

의미에 치중 하는 입력이란 세로운 무법, 어휘 별로 없어서 무선 뜻이 있는지에 치중할 수 있는 내용을 말한다.  배우는 게 별로 없으나 유창성, 정확성에 큰 더움이 된다.  따라서 읽으면서 배우는 느낌 아니라 습득하는 느낌을 받았다.  이런 학습 덕분에 한국어 실력이 높아지고 있지 않는가?

Kurt Vonnegut: Bluebeard

Up until the last page of this book, I knew exactly what I was going to write about it.  I was going to say that, in spite of having taken the laziest possible route for an author, vonnegut managed to stitch together something that was enjoyable, inventive,and occassionally insightful.

But that last page.

In it Vonnegut reveals that (although I still feel he did it the easy way) he has been developing to it's logical, glorious conclusion, an idea that he stumbled across years earlier in Breakfast of Champions: that at the core of every human, there is an unwavering band of light. I believe this with all my heart, that something at the core of this sack of meat animates it, and makes it worth more than hamburger.  Something not only more valuable, but more resilient than my meat is inside, pulsing with vitality and light, and furthermore the same is true of every other meat bag out there.  If I could just stop looking at the garbage sacks that they walk around in, and notice the neon tube at the core of every other human, how happy I and they would be!  Oh happy meat! Oh happy soul!  Oh happy Brandon!

Leo Tolstoy: Anna Karenina

I won't bother to write much about this book, partly because Nabovok has said everything there is to say about it, and partly because I have no idea where to begin.  Never before have I read so perfect, so complete a book and am weary that I am only now, in my 36th year of life experiencing it. Every last passage, every image, perfectly reflects the book as a whole, and layered on top of that structural and thematic perfection are incisive descriptions and explanations of human behaviors that, while universally experienced, are so subtle and precise that one would not have thought could be captured in words.  I simply must learn Russian after I have mastered Korean, so I can read the original.

Bonnie and Clyde / Chinatown

I choose to write about these two movies together, not only because I feel a pressing need to catch up on my writing, but also because my complaints about them mirror each other.  As before when writing about an item from the AFI's list of 100 American films, I find myself returning to the question "Is it actually great?", and in these cases to the question "Why not?" 

In the case of Bonnie and Clyde, I found myself reminded of Godard's Pierrot le Fou more than once.  While Bonnie and Clyde, Les Fous did not descend quite into the realm of postmodernism as Godard's more representative work, Arthur Penn's sudden, jarring cutaways indicated a similar discouragement to the natural tendency to build a narrative, or otherwise make sense of the proceedings.  By the same token, the cavalier, almost smirking tone that he seemed to take at times, while portraying explicit sex and violence that were shocking by 1960's American standards, seemed to reveal a Postmodernist refusal to take the matter too seriously, and by all means to avoid anything resembling a message.  All this is certainly significant, and it's very comforting to have an artistic framework within which to consider a film, but significant does not mean great.  To be fair, the AFI has never claimed that its list is of great films, merely of films. But I can't help judge a film by criteria that seem to fall under the heading of greatness:  visionary direction; insightful, sound screenwriting; and astonishing, believable performances.  This film seemed to have none of these elements, and so I wonder why anyone other than a film historian would ever watch it.

Chinatown suffers slightly less by those criteria.  I would call Polanski's direction just sort of visionary, in that he didn't quite pull it all together into something coherent.  Nicholson manages to turn his potentially cardboard gumshoe into one who clearly always has something going on under the hood, and Dunaway draws the audience in to her world in a way that she simply is never given a chance to in Bonnie and Clyde.  That script, though.  Clearly there is something being said about society, and the way the strong prey upon the week and woe are we and all that, but it feels so secondary, as though added in the final act to give it heft, and make Dunaway's demise more sympathetic than her eerily similar one 7 years earlier.  And the final bit about "This is Chinatown", clearly meant to refer obliquely to a running joke about the way Chinese fuck, doesn't seem to relate to the rest of the script. In short, while it is nearly great in some ways, it is in no way significant, while the opposite can be said of Bonnie Clyde.  The only reason I can imagine watching either again is to hone in on and write something incisive about Dunaway's performance, since she's awesome, and I like picking things apart.

2nd Thessalonians

1:1 As this letter is supposed to have been written not long after Paul's previous epistle, it's not surprising that the introduction is the same, again focusing on grace and peace.  It will be interesting to detect and extrapolate from any other perceived shifts in Paul's approach . . .

1:5 One wonders, then, about those who do not suffer quite so much.  Are they unworthy of the kingdom?

1:6 I get the impression that Paul is mentioning something to which I don't have access.  Otherwise, this is a bit of a leap in logic. Never mind the question of how just it is to repay suffering for suffering, something against which the congregation has no doubt been cautioned.  I just mean wher is the rhetorical link with what he's discussing?

1:7,8 Whoa, there, nelly.  This is a departure from his earlier message in the extreme.  I don't recall Paul getting this worked up and brimstoney very often.  No doubt a rhetorical appeal to the Thessalonians' baser human urge for vengeance.

2:3 It would be easy to take this as a prophecy, but it is not altogether clear that Paul means "the lawless one" to be The Lawless One, some sort of archetypal embodiment of rebellion.  He could just as easily have been referring to lawless people in general.

2:4 Okay, now it's clear.  So when does this happen, exactly? Was Paul ever dissapointed that he didn't see anything resembling the fulfillment of his urgent message?

2:6 They may know, but we certainly have no clue. 

2:11,12 I have serious problems both with Paul's logic and with his theology.  By Paul's reasoning, God has purposefully deluded some so that whose who are deluded can be comdemned.  This makes no kind of sense.  It's the "so" that really throws a spanner in it.  Why is this divinely induced delusion a precondition? 

3:6 No doubt a targeted messsage.  I wonder how the intended target felt?  Whether they were ashamed of their laziness, or angered at being singled out.

3:17 Now this is the thing that I find most troubling about this letter.  Why on Earth would Paul see fit to draw attention to his handwriting here, and not in 1 Thessalonians? His opening is standard, and changes little across the course of all his letters.  Why should this closing be so different?  Unless somebody had something to prove. 

Which brings us to the authenticity of this book.  While widely regarded as authentically authored by Paul, there are some who notice the dramatic differences between it and his earlier letter.  I tend to agree with this; 1st Thess. was solicitous, warm and upbuilding in the extreme.  This letter seems violently angry by comparison.  Paul was human, and subject to flights of emotion, no doubt, but these letters just do not feel like they were writeen by the same person.  And would Paul ever be guilty of such sloppy logic as found in 2:12?  Lastly, what about that closing? 

For that matter, do we really care whether the Paul or some associate wrote this letter (possibly going so far as to forge his handwriting)? For those who take this to be the literal inspired word of God, such a question would be of monumental importance and, of course, would never even be supposed.

박현숙: 오천원은 없다

저자가 한국어를 가르칠 작정이 있었는지 모르겠지만 나한테 많이 도와주는 책였다.  왜냐하면 새로운 단어가 등장할 때는 자주 되풀이  해서 나에게 발리 익숙해졌어요.  그러나 마지막 쪽에도 내가 모르는 단어 몇게 있었다.  아직도 쉬운 책도 유창하게 읽을 수 없어요.  공부 더 열심히 해야 할 텐데 . . .

또는 주제가 진짜 재미있었다.  몇번 깔깔거리거나 신이 났다.  같은 책 널리 읽으면 수준이 얼른 높아질 것 같아요.

The African Queen

I simply don't see the allure of this movie.  Not only does the American Film institute recognize it as one of the 100 most significant American films ever made (although they dropped it to #65 from #17 in the 2007 revision to the list) and did Bogart win an Academy Award for his performance, but my dear sweet Grandmother absolutely loved it.  For my part, I found it clumsy and tedious. 

Most of what I didn't care for came from directorial/editing choices that I felt inhibited the storytelling.  Something interesting would happen, and then the film would cut to some scenic footage, and then back to the characters, where something else interesting would happen.  This narrative structure prevented the different scenes from connecting to each other, and the viewer never really felt a build in the conflict between Hepburn and Bogart, let alone their burgeoning attraction.  When they finally are confirmed in love, it feels as though maybe we missed something.  They go right from at each other's throats to "would you like some tea, dearest?" with out that intermediate recognition.

It also prevented what could have been a real tour de force from Hepburn.  Such a rich character in the hands of such a powerful actress could have become mesmerizing.  Instead, everytime she seemed to be gathering up steam, the film would cut to some hippopotamuses or such, and she would have to start from scratch again the next time we saw her.  If I were the AFI, I would have left this film off the list altogether.

1st Thessalonians

I have a lot of expectation for this book, as it is widely regarded as the first composed of Paul's epistles, and plan to approach it with an eye out for ideas that seem not yet fully-formed.  Perhaps it will yield some insight into Paul's thought process, as well as his theology.

1:1 Working from that assumption, it is worth noting that Paul's salutation does not differ significantly from that of Colossians, written perhaps 30 years later.  His messages of grace of peace thus appear as constants, and one could look to them as a framework for his theology.  Maybe.

1:2-5 likewise, the main difference in his introductory comments is that he has met the Thessalonians in person, and does not seem to have met the Colossians at the time of the writing.

1:6-10 Paul seems less confident than in later writings, and seems to spend a lot of time flattering his audience, and . . .

2:1-12 trying to establish his own credibility.  Either he is gearing up for some serious reprimanding, or he is less secure in his relationship with the Thessalonians than with the Colossians--all the more remarkable considering his personal establishment of the congregation there.

2:16 One wonders what wrath Paul could be referring to.  If the dating were different, I would assume he meant the fall of Jerusalem to Roman armies in 70 C.E., but 1st Thess. seems to predate that.

3:1-4 Another possibility occurs to me, that Paul is really worried about the congregation, due to some intense persecution, and the primary purpose of this letter is just to encourage them.  In which case, I would expect little in the way of theological explication.

3:10 This is the closest he has come to anything resembling admonishment: that he wants to strengthen whatever may be lacking in their faith. 

4:4 Now we get to the dirt: he urges them to be in control of their bodies, and free from lust.  Much different than the lofty, mental focus of Colossians--at least the first 3 chapters.

4:15 Now this is interesting.  It is certainly revealing that this early work contains such a strong emphasis on physical resurrection.  I would be curious to look back and see how much weight this arguably less noble idea gets in his more mature works.

5:6 And this cry for watchfulness, this warning of "sudden destruction", could also be expected to get less page time thirty years later.

5:8 Perhaps a seminal form of the more developed thought found in Ephesians at least 20 years later.

5:23 Paul speaks of spirit and soul as though they are different things . . . or is it just poetic stylizing?

The part of this that I find most compelling is the mention of resurrection in the last half of the 4th chapter, not only because it's the only real theology going on here, but also because it is so blatantly pandering, and so conspicuously absent in some later letters.  It seems altogether likely that messages of impending and sudden destruction would lose their weight after thirty years, and also that as Paul aged he shifted his focus to more noble/lofty things.

Max Frisch: I'm Not Stiller

In my post on Frisch's play Andorra, I indicated that it didn't seem to justify its existence, and that it would have been better served as a novel or short story.  As it happens, I'm Not Stiller is exactly that.  It addresses the same ideas as Andorra, namely to what extent we are our own creation and to what extent the creation of others, in more depth and in a way that plays more to Frisch's strengths.  His prose is so much more beguiling than his dialogue, one wonders why he felt compelled to revisit the theme seven years later in such an inadequate way.  Perhaps there was some aspect of it that he felt remained unaddressed, but for my money I'm Not Stiller is a definitive statement on the subject, and Andorra a lame aftershock.

Which is not to say that it gives a conclusive answer to the question of the extent to which our identities are simply social constructs; merely that it opens the dialogue and pinpoints a few of the pivotal elements.  According to Frisch's model, the self is obscured by myriad things, many of which we mistake for self.   One of the less influential of these obscuring influences is that of so-called society. Anything we have received from literature, art, philosophy, or discussion of the same with friends, is manifestly not us.  The eponymous hero asks,

How the devil am I to prove to my counsel that I don't know my murderous impulses through C.G. Jung, jealousy through Marcel Proust, Spain from Hemingway . . . and all sorts of other things through Thomas Mann? It's true, you need never even have read these authorities, you can absorb them through your friends who also live all their experiences second-hand (158).

And even if the stories that seem to comprise our identities are not received in the above way, they may well be constructed.  Frisch leads the reader to believe the narrator's assertion that he is not Stiller, partly through the painstaking detail of his narrative, only to pull the rug out when he admits that he was simply "too tired to make up another murder story" (53).  For the rest of the novel, one continues to wonder what to believe, and is never fully satisfied.  As the reader becomes invested in the narrator, every question one asks of him one asks of oneself as well: "To what extent can I believe my own version of events?

Frisch thus systematically deconsructs the identity of the Narrator, and allows him to serve as a nameless (as advertised by the title) proxy for the reader.  Having peeled away the obviously unreliable sources of identity--society, narrative, perception, associations--he proceeds to identify the ultimate, and ultimately inescapable, culprit for the unreality of our identities: language. "You can put anything into words, except your own life" and "I have no words for my reality", the narrator laments, to cite two of the more clear examples (53, 70).

Which does not mean, by Frisch's model, that there is no such thing as identity, simply that it requires an extraordinary amount of bravery, clarity and self-reflection to perceive it.  This, sadly is a task that so-called Stiller (this reader remains unconvinced that he is indeed the man in question) seems to fail.  The narrator comes to the cusp of clarity, but retreats out of fear.  This affects those around him, for "if he took [Julika's] love really seriously, he would be compelled as a result to accept himself--and that is the last thing he wants" (216). For this reason, he is unable to know the other central character of the book: Julika.  We as readers never come close to knowing her, since "Stiller"'s version and Rolf's are at odds, and it is certainly for this reason that neither of them really come to know her either.  The book's title takes on a rather sly note, for one realizes by the end that the Narrator may or not be Stiller, but the book was never about him to begin with, but rather "the picture of a being who was dead and had never been recognized by anyone when she was alive" (377).

이문열: 두겹의 노래

삶은 쓸쓸하다.  또한 쓸쓸하지않다.  한국 작가는 이렇게 바로 분명히 시작하기 마련인지 모르겠지만 확실히 분석 쉽게 하는 시작이다.  이문열은 황홀하고 놀랄만큼 퉁명스러운 산문으로 사랑의 사실 또한 광계의 사실을 정확히 포착한다.  다른 사람이랑 아무리 친한다고 생각해도 광계는 욕구와  간격의 무서운 조합인 말이다.  이런 환경에서는 마음이 어떻게 살아남을 수 있을까?

Brian Rappatta: To Sift the Sacred and other Fantasy Stories

It's always a bit strange approaching a book written by an acquaintance in this manner.  On the one hand, I am inclined to cut a lot of slack to the book because it doesn't seem to be putting on any airs.  A professionally published, mainstream book has a certain obligation to the reader, to be well written, thoroughly edited, and in general not a waste of time. A book written by a friend just doesn't seem to make the same demands.

Nonetheless, as an English major one develops the habit of reading critically, in the quite literal sense of noticing things that are wrong.  In this case, I suppose I could sum up by saying that the author's ideas are quite astounding and creative, but I'm not quite taken in by the writing itself, which seems a bit pedestrian.

But the larger issue at stake here is that each of the stories contains a thoroughly thought out and engaging miniature world, and the short story format doesn't come close to doing any of them justice.  I feel like, with the exception of "Goddamned", every one of the stories could bear the weight of a longer narrative.  So much thought has gone into each of the stories that the world feels fully formed within only a few paragraphs.  It almost seems like a waste to let such a vision live for only 20 pages or so.

City Lights

Here's a rare example of a time I agree with the AFI's revisions to its list.  In the original 1998 list, this charming number was ranked 76th, but in the 2007 revisions it was, I think rightly, moved up to number 11.  I had never watched a silent feature length film before, so my expectations were low, but I was captivated throughout.  City Lights is everything a romantic comedy should be: by turns hilarious, suspenseful, socially astute and deeply moving.  While Chaplin's comedic chops are the obvious star here, I think he deserves even more credit as writer and director for accomplishing without words (without spoken words at least) what all the Matthew McConaugheys and Cameron Diazes and Nicholas Sparkses in all of modern cinema can't do with scores of well-paid writers and technicians.

Sometimes, out of habit, I judge a piece of media by its "teachableness", by which I mean whether I could show it to a class of low socioeconomic status students (I am thinking of a specific class from my fourth year of teaching), and have them learn something from it without being bored to tears.  I would love to show this movie (or part of it) to such a class, and watch their minds expand a little.  At first they would roll their eyes and groan at the prospect of watching a black and white movie--let alone a silent one.  I can hear it now "What the fuck, Payne?  Do you hate us or something?"  Then they would self-consciously repress a giggle when Chaplin's pants get caught on a  statue.  After about five minutes, one of them would break the ice and give a full belly laugh, probably when the blind girl throws water in his face.  It would be all smiles from there, and at the end of the class, one of them would begrudgingly say, "I didn't think old shit could be that funny . . ."  Although I enjoyed City Lights immensely, especially the ending, I'm aware that my enjoyment alone does not make a great movie.  To have soften the hearts and open the minds of a group of juvenile delinquents is a much better measure.

Liveblogging the Bible: Colossians

1:1 One can't help but wonder what exactly Timothy's role was in the composition of this letter.  Was he simply an amanuensis? An editor?  A co-contributor?  Or simply a comrade who wished to add his greetings to Paul's? 

1:3 The use of the plural here seems to suggest that Timothy's role was more substantial than one might think, which raises theological questions.  Paul has yet to indicate that this letter is directly inspired (as he does elsewhere), an omission which does not stop some from taking this as the literal, word-for-word transmission of a divine message.  If one chooses to take it thus, is Timothy also inspired of God?

1:7 Was Epaphras, therefore, the originator of the congregation in Colossae, if it was from him that they first heard the message?

1:9-14 Paul's wishes here are interesting, more for what is not included than for what is.  He wishes them to have gifts of wisdom/knowledge/understanding, and strength/endurance patience.  His mention of forgiveness and good works are results of these other two elements, not independent of them.

1:15 Appositive referent problem.  Is "the firstborn of all creation" meant to refer to Christ, or God?

1:20 In what way are those things in heaven in need of Christ's redemption?

1:23 This is a quid pro quo that is incompatible with common understandings of salvation.  The audience here is saved "provided that [they] continue securely established and steadfast . . ."  And if they don't, what becomes of that salvation?  Some would argue that those who do not continue were never saved, but that would render Paul's argument invalid.

1:24 And what could possibly have been lacking in Christ's afflictions, such that Paul has to suffer them for him.  Seems like a bit of poetic license, rather than a point of doctrine.

2:1 This confirms the suspicion in 1:7

2:3,4 Again this focus on knowledge.  Paul is far to canny and conscious of his audience to have done this offhandedly.  He is clearly writing for the purpose of purifying their doctrine, and specifically to root out some unknown "plausible arguments" that are not in sync with the party line.

2:6 One could try to infer then, what exactly he is trying to correct about their doctrine, by seeing what gets the bulk of his time.  In this case, it seems to be the idea of the ransom, and of Christ's headship of the congregation.

2:11-15 This is Pauline rhetoric at its very best.  He appeals to the Colossians on multiple emotional fronts, all while giving his case a sound logical underpinning.

2:18 and this confirms that Paul's goal is primarily to focus their attention on Christ, and deter them from developing a sort of pantheon, or an independent order that subscribes to harsher standards as an expression of piety.  Both of these are things that Catholics are guilty of in abundance, naturally.

3:5 This is a lovely job of wrapping worship of lesser deities and self-abasement in the same cloth as fornication and wrath, in that all of them are of earthly concern.  A nice taxonomy, that brooks no argument, especially as nice as Paul has set it up in the preceding chapters.

3:17 And if he stopped right here, I would have no argument with him . . .

3:18-25 But he didn't. After all of the beautiful and sound rhetoric of the preceding chapters, he loses his way here.  He has just convinced his audience to focus only on spiritual things, that everything physical has no real meaning.  Yet here he brings it back to the physical realm again, and loses some of his credibility.

4:1 And of course, I see no way to justify this by Paul's own logic.  It has no place in a treatise on distancing oneself from the physical realm.  Not to mention the fact that it is morally repulsive.

4:12 Evidently their own founder, Epaphras, was with him at the time of the writing, no doubt mentioned tactically.

4:16 And is this letter to the Laodiceans less inspired, such that it has been lost?

4:18 Well, that lets Timothy off the hook as an amanuensis.  And he could scarcely have been mentioned just as a way to tender his regards, insofar as somehow Timothy's contribution to this letter deserved greater mention than these others named here.  Which leaves the other two possibilities . . . I can't help but wonder if that section that seems so out of place with the rest bears his mark somehow.

Edgar Allan Poe: Complete Tales and Stories with Selected Essays

This incredibly dense volume has taken me a year to muddle through, partly due to my own easily distracted nature, and partly due to the fact that every time I tried to get through a chunk I fell asleep after a few pages.  In fact, after this happened a few times, I took to reading a bit of Poe whenever I was having trouble falling asleep.  My mind often races, causing me to lie awake, but this has proven to be the easiest over-the-counter cure for that I have found.

There are those who will be incensed by this declaration, but I mean it in earnest.  No other author can put me to sleep the way Poe can.  He just tries so hard to prove himself--that he's smart, or avant-garde, or of a poetical nature.  His word choice and condescending tone consistently leave a bad taste in my mouth.  It is no wonder that he met with but little recognition in his own time.

What is a mystery is that he has such devout followers in modern times.  What is usually familiar of his body of work is often limited to the three or four stories that are not tediously self-conscious.  One that I was pleasantly surprised by was The Mask of the Red Death, which I had read before, but the lovely symmetry and well-crafted structure of which I had not fully appreciated at the time.

And if  his prose is unbearable, his poetry is even more so, containing, as he admitted, "Nothing of much value to the public, or very creditable to [my]self" (Poe, 1845).  This is, of course, an exaggeration.  Certain of his poems have become deservedly famous, but the vast majority are clumsy, unfinished, and boring.  To use his own words again,

...the writer of these lines
 in the mad pride of intellectuality
maintained "the power of words"--denied that ever
a thought arose within the human brain
beyond the utterance of the human tongue ("To Marie Louise" 1-5)

It is exactly this mad pride of intellectuality that infects all of Poe's work, including the few examples from his essays included in this collection.  This is a terrible shame because that cloying frosting of pseudo-intellectualism covers up the ideas behind Poe's work, which, when they peek through, are visionary and poetic in the highest degree.  I just wish he had an editorial-minded friend who could have sat down with him and extracted those things.  I wish some of the truly lovely passages and turns of phrase were not nestled in such glutinous dishes as Poe served.  Some of my favorite examples:

Ours is a world of words: Quiet we call
"Silence"--which is the merest word of all.
All nature speaks, and ev'n ideal things
Flap shadowy sounds from visionary wings

and

Up!--shake from your wing
Each hindering thing:
The dew of the night--
It would weigh down your flight;
And true love caresses--
O! leave them apart!
They are light on the tresses,
But lead on the heart.

Both of these sections are from "Al Aaraaf", which, with a little direction, could have been one of the greatest poems ever written.  Instead, it's a bit of a mess with some lovely pieces poking through, and Poe is definitely remembered for the tidier "Annabel Lee" and "The Raven".

Of course, perhaps is it because of all this, and not in spite of it, that he has found such an audience.  Perhaps it is not even Poe's work that people are drawn to, but his spirit, that of one with deep, even visionary things to say, who couldn't quite seem to get them across--certainly not in his own time.  Who would bother to pick through the work of a living writer to find out what he means, after all?  More's the pity, because many indeed are they who can relate to his sentiment, summed up perhaps best here:

From childhood's hour I have not been
As others were--I have not seen
as others saw--I could not bring
my passions from a common spring--("Alone")

Vertigo

I feel that everything that went right with Raging Bull went wrong here: In the former, Scorsese took a turd of a script, and reworked it completely into something brilliant. In the latter, Hitchcock took an equally stinky sample, and decided to leave poor enough alone. Scorsese resisted the temptation to cast known quantities in the leading roles, and not only pulled masterpiece performances seemingly out of thin air, but cemented the careers and reputations of some of our finest actors. Hitchcock almost lazily cast the obviously over the hill Stewart in the lead, and couldn't pull so much as a simmer out of him.

Vertigo is admittedly lovely. Hitchcock is, as always, a master of mood, but shows here that he can create more than suspense. Perhaps it was out of necessity that he managed to show Stewart falling in love with Kim Novak entirely through camera angle. And of course the dream sequence and visual effects are all of the sort that have since become so common that one needs context to appreciate how artistically they are done.

Nonetheless, it is clear that a great director is not enough to make a great movie, and with the other two necessary elements missing--a great script and great performances--I consider this the first time that the AFI has really missed the mark in identifying a great film--let alone ranking it 9th.

Liveblogging the Bible: Ephesians

The end of this undertaking is in sight, which means, if I approach it the way I usually do things, I will probably begin taking it seriously again.

1:3 I already like this book; Paul alerts us early that it's not about Christ at all, except tangentially.

1:4 Of course, if it treats this topic, namely predestination, it's bound for a sticky theological undertaking . . .

1:9 I can't help but think that Paul is using the royal "we" here, that when he says ". . . has made known to us" he is referring to his own personal revelations.

1:18 again, seemingly referring to a vision that he alone has witnessed, and hoping it for those he considers his brothers and sisters.

2:1 I'm feeling unaccountably moved by Paul's words here, by the tone of hope and charity that he is adopting. Really a contrast to some of his other letters.

2:5 a nice echo of 1:20, and a continuation of that as a metaphor

2:15 there is a definite pronoun blurring here, and I am a little reminiscent for the capitalization of "he" when it refers to God. That would clear up when Paul is talking about God, as opposed to Christ, although Paul himself seems to pass liquidly from one referent to the next. Does Paul really mean to say that Christ himself has broken down the walls, or that God has done it through Christ? If the former, it brings in an interesting question of agency.

3:3 Of course, there is little hope of the exact nature of this vision being made known. If it is at all as revelatory as Paul indicates, it is likely to be impossible to put into words. It occurs to me that John and Paul saw the same thing, but either John foolishly put it into words where Paul knew it could not be done, or John was able to put something into words that Paul couldn't quite grasp.

3:6 Or is it really just a simple truth that was revealed, as it was to Peter: that Gentiles and Jews are now one body in the eyes of God?

3:9 He certainly seems to indicate that there is more to it: a future plan, a mystery . . .

4:1 This is a much better framework for the works/faith question than we have seen elsewhere. The salvation of the Spirit is a done deal. Just try to be worthy of it.

4:16 If only Paul knew how disappointingly unable humans are of fulfilling his wish here, at least for any length of time.

4:25 Paul is hitting on what may the only universal truth here: that what is good for you is good for me, not because you are my brother, but because you are me.

4:30 and this ties nicely with what is said in 4:1. Rather than "do not sin", he tells them not to make the Holy Spirit sorry for its gift. . .

5:10 I love that he urges them to "try to find out what is pleasing in the Lord," rather than commanding them. He knows that sin is unavoidable.

5:21 before any mention of subjection to husbands, he instructs the Ephesians to be subject to one another. How is it possible for both people in a relationship to be the slave, and for both to be the master? That is the very definition of love.

5:22 which makes it difficult to reconcile this verse.

5:32 " great mystery" indeed, one that many spend a lifetime puzzling out.

5:33 He does seem to present a subtle double standard here. What is the difference between loving one as one's own body, as husbands are instructed to do, and respecting that person, as wives are directed?

6:2 not sure that what he says here holds water: Surely there are other commandments with promises, and compared to the weight Christ gave "love one another" et al.

6:4 although, reading further, this whole chapter just seems to one long "for example;"

6:13 What evil day? This is his first mention of it here, but he acts as if they will know what he is talking about.

6:13-17 I love this translation of a passage that was familiar to me in my youth. He makes it more clear here that he is speaking, not of a laundry list of qualities, but of focusing one's energy on what will make the Spirit proud.

6:22 Who are "we"? Paul in the royal here again, or is somebody with him?

Zadie Smith: White Teeth

My darling sister Bethy has a weakness for anything that speaks disparagingly of our former religion, and so naturally recommended this book. Sadly, I feel like what is (possibly) the chief reason for her recommendation is also one of the weaker points. The description of Irie's Witness upbringing captures the flavor of the thing, but is packed with inaccuracies that having a real former Witness read the manuscript would have made evident. One wonders if Smith didn't bother, or if capturing the gist was more important to her than the details. Further, one wonders if the descriptions of Bangladeshi or Jamaican expat culture suffer similarly from a lack of verisimilitude.

Nonetheless, the book was great. I recommend it in spite of the very reasons for which Bethy may have recommended it. All the things I look for in a book: indelible characters, recurring thematic elements that sneak up on you, an ending that simultaneously leaves the reader unsatisfied and makes perfect sense, believable dialogue, in short, the whole package. I really should read more of this sort of book, but one must read so many terrible ones before finding a good one . . .

Max Frisch: Andorra

Ugh, I hate message theater. Tom Lindblade, one of the better directors I know, would always ask before a musical number would begin something to the effect of "Why are you singing this? What is it about this that it can't be simply spoken?" The same sentiment applies to all theater in my mind. What is it about this that can't be conveyed in a novel or short story? Why must it be seen, performed, to be adequately conveyed? I don't feel like Andorra manages to justify its existence by this standard. There is nothing new, no compelling image, no line so striking that it simply must be read aloud. I'm sure the idea is a worthy one, that we are all victims of our identities, our labels, but I am not convinced that it would not be adequately--even better- served in a story or essay. In that form, it would probably be powerful, but as a play, all I can manage is an eyeroll.

AFI's 100 Films: Raging Bull

I suppose, in addition to the issue of whether a movie is great, there is another, equally significant question: Did I like it? With regard to Raging Bull, the answer to the former question is doubtlessly "yes," but to the former I give a guarded "not particularly . . ." The script is brilliant, almost Chekovian in the marvelous details it gives the actors to work with. I was not surprised to find out that Scorsese and DeNiro had reworked the script considerably themselves, and I attribute its greatness to them, more than to the credited writer, Mardik Martin. My favorite example is La Motta beating his championship belt with a hammer to remove the jewels . . . at first thought, it's just a tragic plot device, but from a character/actor's perspective it makes perfect sense. Such a epically proud man would never allow his belt to be seen on the open market.

The problem with Scorsese's direction is, as elsewhere, that it is so flawless, others could just as easily receive the credit for greatness that he no doubt was responsible for. The script is a perfect example, but De Niro's and Cathy Moriarty's performances are credits to Scorsese almost as much as to themselves. He certainly struck gold casting such unknowns, and that is the sort of thing that they don't give academy awards for. The same is true of his cinematography; one really doesn't notice it, partly because the clever things he does have become standard in modern movies--especially the slowdown of certain actions--but also because they seem so natural, and fit so seamlessly into the overall work. One exception is the choice of music, for which Scorses no doubt deserves the bulk of the credit. Cavelierra Rusticana is a perfect choice, both for its thematic and ironic aspects.

And then there is the matter of the acting, which is incredible. De Niro is brilliant, of course, and the parallel with Brando's in On the Waterfront is not lost on Scorsese, but De Niro is a known quality, so I was naturally far more taken with Cathy Moriarty. She had relatively little to say, but every look was filled with a meaning that, again, reminded me of Chekov. Under each "ok" lay the knowledge that she controlled this animal of a man, and saw right through him. Never was she a pathetic figure--even when being beaten. Not once did I feel sorry for her. Her face seemed to say, "whatever . . ." with each blow, a marvelous parallel to De Niro in the ring. I'm completely taken with her, but I wonder if the fact that so many of her subsequent movies were terrible is just another reminder that Scorsese is really responsible for all of it . . .

AFI's 100 films: Sunset Boulevard

It's been so long since I visited this thread of my blog--which ideally is about all media, and not just books--that I went back and read previous entries. In my discussion of On the Waterfront, I touched on what I think makes a nice framework for this sort of discussion, namely the question of what makes a film great. Waterfront certainly has great elements, especially Brando's performance, but also Kazan's direction. Nonetheless, I left that movie without the feeling that it was great--that there were great elements, but that the finished product did not live up to the adjective.

The same is not true of Sunset Boulevard. Like Waterfront, it featured an unmistakably great performance. Swanson was masterful, and her performance has become a metaphor as much as the character herself has. Unlike Waterfront, I didn't find anything extraordinary about Wilder's direction. So if not direction or acting, what other element is present in the one but not the other that results in, to me at least, a truly great movie?

Assuming that such relatively minor elements as costumes and sets have little to do with the matter, I think it safe to say that the key difference between the two movies is the script. Waterfront was successful in spite of it's maudlin, pandering script, thanks to the presence of other greatness. Sunset may well have succeeded on the strength of its acting, even if the script were not so good--but the script is brilliant, rightfully claiming the Academy Award that year. Wilder et al. tread the line between melodrama and touching believability deftly, which gives Swanson free reign to take her character as far as she can. If the script were less human, she would have had to walk that dangerous line herself. Such over-the-top moments as Norma's tango are cunningly offset by such real ones as Betty's nose job, and the whole thing deserves the honor of being read, as well as watched.

I suppose it's no surprise that, to such a vetted English major as I am, the script is the non plus ultra of a movie. The real test, if one were being scientific about it, would be to find a movie that a great script, but terrible direction and acting. Would such a movie have a chance at release even?

한국어로 해볼게 . . .

앞으로, 한국책 끝낼때 한국어로 논평 하기로 했어요. 많이 틀릴 것 같아도 노력 할게 ㅋㅋㅋ

문계주 (Antoine de Saint-Exupéry덕분에 ): 어린 왕자

이 책 2년전에 받았는데 이제야 비로소 이해 할수 있었어요. 왜냐하면 전에 수준이 낮아서 그래. 지금도, 완벽하게 이해 못 했어요. 여어로 읽은 적도 없어서 내용이나 줄거리도 몰랐어. 아무튼, 어느 쯕 알지 않은 단어 많고 이상한 문법도 많았어요. 앞으로 공부 더윽 열심히 해야 할 텐데 . . .

김자환: 엄마가 보고 있다

이책도 어려웠어요. 약 80% 이해 했어요. 그래도, 길고 진짜 책여서 성취감을 느껴요. 처음 읽기 시작했을때 Beverly Cleary가 쓴 책 같았어. 중학생 한 여자가 짜증스러운 남자 만났고 마침네 친구 됐어요. 대표 중학생 도서이잖아? 그렇지만 한국 새상을 배경으로 예상보다 조금 스프다. 여자는 고아여서 언니가 키워야 돼요. 그리고 언니가 잘리고 옵바가 가출을 했다. 정말 슬픈 이야기인데, 한국에서는 흔한 상태 같다.

I have been lax, I know

Not sure how to explain away the fact that I have not been reading much. Maybe it's merely a symptom of a general numbness and malaise that has overtaken me. It also occurs to me (and this is heresy, I know) that I perhaps I never enjoyed reading as much as I thought I did, and that I only convinced myself that I enjoyed it because it was the best way to do what I really do enoy, namely to acquire thought. At any rate, I have been pathetic, but what little reading I have done lately shall not go undocumented.

George R.R. Martin: A Game of Thrones

Yes yes, a good book, the reading of which only makes me wonder further about the above assertion. If I truly enjoyed the act of reading, I would have a book like this on hand at all times. Instead, I read them only rarely, those books that offer only enjoyment, and instead focus on books that one "should" read, crossing them off my list like little merit badges. As for the book itself, it left no real impression, unlike the TV series which bears its name, which I contend is the most perfect piece of television ever made.

Thomas Pynchon: The Crying of Lot 49

And on the other hand, we have this item, which is indisputably in the "should read" category, not merely because Pynchon is borderline canonical, but also because I can't bear my ex having an opinion about something which I do not. So I read this, and it was, as expected, very Robert, very postmodernist, blah blah blah. Wake me when somebody tops Tropic of Cancer
(never going to happen).

Various: Korea As Viewed by 12 Creators

This volume, an anthology of 12 manga shorts by a mixture of Korean and French writers, had a lot of potential, but I found it disappointing. This was partly due to the speed with which I consumed it, but also due to the general unoriginality of the individual pieces. The French writers were especially guilty of banality here, choosing mostly fluffy, if not downright cute, cultural asides for their topic matter. The exception was Igort, whose piece Letters from Korea was touching, but limited by the short format. The Korean writers fared a little better, and I am especially fond of both the art and the thought of 최규석 and 변기휸. They are colleagues, and have formed a collective called "Metamorphosis in Three Stages", into which I simply must look.  Nevertheless, I found all of the work limited by the short form, and was unsatisfied on the whole.

Liveblogging the Bible: Galatians

1:3 Grace, when used by Paul, is more than a customary greeting. It is loaded with theological implications.

1:15 For example, here it clearly carries hints of predestination. If others, like Paul, were set apart before birth, I ask again what good it is to proselytize.

2:1 Quite a jump in the timeline here. The fact that he skips directly to his visits to Jerusalem is surely no accident, and must relate to his message to the Galatians.

2:2 And I think we get a hint of it here, in his repeated reference to the other Apostles. On the surface he is bolstering his own credentials, but in light of the context, he may well be trying to bolster theirs. He even claims to have compared his version of the gospel with theirs, just to verify what he received by inspiration.

2:6 This verse has grave implications. Does he mean to indicate that those who questioned his fitness in Acts were false apostles?

2:10 Didn't he earlier claim not to have met any of the other apostles beside James and Peter? Shall we add John here to the list, or was this not a direct meeting? And of all the things to ask him for, they only were concerned with money?

2:11 Oh, Peter. You're just a mess sometimes.

2:16 He hits this so briefly, it takes on the flavor of established theology. Certainly not a new argument to his audience.

3:2 Neither option seems very convincing . . .

3:10 Although Paul is clearly leaning toward the latter choice. This is a nice interpretation, of the Law as well. Any law, by extension, that includes a curse to those who do not follow it perfectly, by Paul's reasoning here curses those who accept it as well.

3:17 Quite a lovely argument. Paul establishes God's promise to bless the nations through Abraham as a sort of legal precedent after which the Mosaic Law was invalid, in a way.

3:25 To what extent is this true? The central hole in the argument for faith is that then no line is ever drawn.

4:1 A nice continuation of the metaphor. The Mosaic Law in this framework is just the executor of the Abrahamic Covenant, until the beneficiaries are of age.

4:10 How do the Witnesses not fixate on this scripture in their argument against the celebration of holidays? It seems that it would give more strength to their argument than all the other justifications they use combined.

4:13 Is he referring to his eyesight here? If so, in what way did it put the Galatians to the test?

4:17 although the referent of "They" here is no doubt clear to the Galatians, it is a mystery to the modern reader.

4:21 It is clear exactly what the nature of their mistake is. Will the specter of the Mosaic Law never leave?

5:3 Another convincing argument. Who would want to be held to the entire Law? Then why be held to a part of it?

5:12 A strong and fitting curse.

5:22 I am more accustomed to the translation "faith" than "faithfulness", but the NRSV usage here makes sense. After all, according to Paul, faith is a source of spirit, rather than a result of it.

6:8 And here is Paul's other quibble with the Galatians: that they are behaving physically, which is not independent of their silly subscription to circumcision.

6:12 a connection that does not escape Paul, of course.

6:15 The Witness' proscription of blood transfusions really has no solid Biblical basis, as far as I can tell, but I have always considered it rather a good idea from their perspective. It serves to separate them from others, to distinguish them in a way that reminds them of their identity. From a organizational, if not from a theological standpoint, it's a good idea. But Paul here is cautioning against such physical determinations. It is indeed a fleshly concern, whether one receives blood or not, and as such should be beneath those whose spirits are sufficiently advanced.

Liveblogging the Bible: 2nd Corinthians

In my convalescence, I wonder if it possible to finish the project I began years ago . . .

1:1 I wonder what part Timothy played in the composition of this epistle. I would say he was an amanuensis, except that Sosthenes in 1 Cor. had the same mention, and was not the scribe.

1:10 Except that He will manifestly not rescue Paul indefinitely . . .

1:12 a suitable boast--rather than boast of his gifts of wisdom, prophecy, tongues, Apostlehood, and the like, he boasts merely of his frankness.

2:1 In what way would his visit have been painful?

2:5 Evidently there was some antagonism toward Paul on his last visit . . .

2:7 I feel left out of the import here, but the principle is clear: as in his previous letter, he insists that the virtuous path os to let oneself be wronged rather than to insist on one's rights

3:5 Yet he did indeed claim his own authority for certain suggestions in his first letter.

3:7, 12 Paul would probably not write this way to the Hebrews. "The Ministry of Death" is certainly a harsh word for the Mosaic Law.

3:18 But is this mirror darkened, as in 1 Cor 13? So far Paul has struck an entirely different tone and message from his first letter.

4:4 Paul opens a dangerous line of reasoning here. In his first letter 8:2 he proclaims that if one claims to understand, he does not really. Here he says that one who does not understand is being pruposefully prevented from such understanding. Damned if you do, so to speak . . .

4:18 This lends weight to the argument that Paul's affliction was related to his sight.

5:13 Perhaps this rather confusing chapter falls into the former category--being in an ecstatic state, so to speak, while his first letter was firmly in the latter, more scrutable category.

5:16 Yes, this letter certainly has the flavor of a transformation of Paul's perspective. When he knew Christ from a human point of view, he believed a certain way, that understanding was the goal. Now, in his age and blindness, he is considerably more metaphysical--almost visionary.

6:11 Again Paul falls back on his frankness, which endears me to him. Frankness is among my favorite virtues, and among the most underappreciated I think..

6:14 This also seems to represent an evolution of Paul's belief as found in 1 Cor 7:12, although the two are reconcilable in a way.

6:16-18 It's times like this that I miss the New World Translation's habit of glossing all seeming quotations, for I would love to know Paul's source here. Often it is not to be found anywhere in the Bible as received.

7:8 Ah, here seems to be the crux of this letter: they do not seem to have responded well to his first one--which I loved.

7:11 Funny, I don't remember his rebukes being quite so sound as to warrant this gnaching of the teeth.

8:7 Haha a classic guilt trip. . .

8:16 I am beginning to be intrigued by this Titus fellow. I look forward to reading the book named for him.

9:1 A code word for what nowadays goes by "stewardship", but which might as well be called "finances".

10:1 Is he still going on about this?

10:10 I find this ill at odds with my conception of Paul, whom I imagine to have been a powerful public speaker, as well as a writer. How else could he have accomplished all he did? Is it possible that he faded later in life, and it is this physically unimposing Paul that writes now?

11:6 This is a terribly disingenuous statement of Paul to make. He was surely well-trained in speech at the Sanhedrin.

11:14 Again, this is at odds with 1 Cor 8:2. Is it possible that Paul has been by this point disabused of an earlier notion, and realizes that things are not as flowery as he imagined?

11:33 Paul may be excused for getting a bit carried away here, for his anxiety over the Corinthian congregation is palpable. There must have been somebody quite charismatic undercutting him for him to react this way.

12:2 Hold on a minute: what is the world does he mean by this? The third heaven? Is there a hierarchy? Was there an unrecorded assumption of some sort? Is he referring to Christ? The timing doesn't match up for that. This hints at a Metaphysical goldmine . . .

12:7 A goldmine that Paul is content merely to hint at though . . .

And he leaves it at that. I would love to be a fly on the wall when he did arrive--no doubt he diffused a tense meeting with that delightful blend of humility and frankness that I would so love to imitate.

Liveblogging The Bible: 1st Corinthians

1:1 It's no doubt fruitless to wonder about such men as Sosthenes--here presumably Paul's amanuensis--but wonder I do.

1:4 a couple of troubling thoughts about translation and petty modifiers:

• "my God" in stead of "God" is a superficially petty distinction, but the theological implications are profound. The original text no doubt makes it difficult, if not impossible, to choose from these two potential translations. "My God" makes the text a personal affirmation, but also leaves open the possibility of other gods beside this one. An unmodified "God" is more authoritative, but correspondingly offhanded. The worst thing about questions like this is that there can be no answer.
• giving thanks "for you", in common usage, signifies "because of you", but here seems to mean "in your behalf", acceptable grammatically, but a strange usage--and one with theological ramifications. Is it possible to act as a thanksgiving proxy? If so, what would be the point? It is possible, that the original meaning is closer to a combination of the two denotations, something like "I give thanks that you are so blessed".
  

These are just two examples of why close readings of The Bible are two-edged swords: they yield thought-provoking discourse, but to one for whom each word is of crucial significance, theological self-destruction is inevitable. Mercifully, my approach to the Bible is considerably more macrocosmic.

I don't have much to say on any particular verse in this chapter, because I find the whole thing quite brilliant. Paul masterfully transforms a question of sectarianism among the Corinthians into a soaring discourse on the relationship between power and wisdom. In v. 17 he (perhaps disingenuously) decries his own wisdom, and leverages this bit of self-deprecation into a unavoidable focus on the message of Christ. By the end of the chapter, the writer has disappeared completely, and the reader has forgotten everything but the message. Brilliant.

2:6 Paul cannot deny for long, of course, that there is real wisdom to be had in the message of Christ. His distinction is the means by which is it gained: by revelation, and not by reason.

2:11 I'm not sure what to make of this verse, but I love it.

3:2 and he then uses this to bait his audience a bit, reminding them that as long as they are arguing over fleshly things, the real wisdom of God will not be revealed to them.

3:12-15 I consider this to be a misstep, a bit. It feels like Paul got carried away with his metaphor, and took it down a path that doesn't really relate to his subject. Mercifully, he catches himself quickly.

4:5 He seems to be setting up his next step, namely a rebuke of certain behaviors.

4:14 Yes, this whole chapter is definitely ground work for what comes next.

5:3 This seems to contradict his caution against judgement in 4:3-5, and he also seems to be making a rather striking claim of prescience. Is he claiming some sort of astral travel, or merely speaking metaphorically?

5:12 It is probably fair for Paul to claim the right of judgement here, it just seems to go against his own theology.

6:2 This verse is commonly used as justification for the despicable practice of handling such matters as pedophilia internally without informing secular authorities. I think the presence of the word "trivial" in the description should take the power out of that argument though.

6:7 This is the natural extension of Paul's argument in ch.1, that the highest virtue is to allow oneself to be wronged in the service of the higher good. One has to wonder where the line is drawn, though. At murder? Pedophilia? Petty theft? Purely civil matters?

6:9 In this context, the implication is that sin is its own punishment, rather than all such ones should be judged by the congregation.

6:12 an elegant transition into a larger point, one that I can get on board with--as weighty as it is.

7:4 This may be the only authority Paul grants to a woman in his entire ouvre.

7:7 And what gift may it be that Paul has? Extraordinary self-control? That seems unlikely, in light of other statements he makes. What could it be, other than that certain things do not tempt him? And considering the context, what could that be but certain sexual temptations?

7:10 does this represent a typo on Paul's part, one that without the benefit of an eraser he had to amend? Furthermore, what does the slip represent? Does the command come by divine inspiration, or by virtue of his apostolic authority?

7:12 Aah, perhaps not a typo after all, but a setup for the next statement. Nicely done, Paul.

7:14 In what sense are they made holy? In that they are converted, or in that they are grandfathered in, so to speak?

7:17 Leading the life to which God has called you could take many forms. Paul has already allowed concessions for certain personal defects, such as the lack of self-control. What if one was born with a natural attraction for members fo the same sex?

7:21 As tempting as it is to rebuke Paul for his endorsement of slavery, it is a consistent and natural extension of his command to let yourself be wronged. In the broader scheme, what difference does it make, slave or free?

7:25 again, Paul inserts his own opinion, a bald admission that all of the Bible is not inspired by God.

7:29 Is this inconsistent with v.3? Or is it more metaphorical?

Paul spends quite a bit of time on the question of whether or not to have sex. Is this a preoccupation on his part, or a response to a preoccupation on the part of his audience?

8:2 Beautifully consistent with more Eastern thought.

8:9 A running theme in this book. I really like it. Really.

9:4,5 Now wait a minute. Is Paul willing to follow his own counsel here, and allow himself to be wronged?

9:12 Evidently so. Still, he seems to leave certain loopholes for the other Apostles.

9:15 Though for dubious reasons--surely this is not his real motivation.

10:1 Certainly not "under a cloud" in the sense that we would expect.

10:6-13 These verses change the tone of the book, from one of gentle and reasonable suggestion, to intense and urgent command.

10:29 This question, which seems to contradict his point, is promptly answered by the most utilitarian of arguments, "For the Lord," AKA "Cuz I said so."

11:2-15 This seems out of place to me. He has spent so much time dealing with weighty matters, why does he now devote an entire chapter to what he admits are mere customs? Especially one so seemingly trivial as how long one's hair should be? I wonder what the background situation was such that he felt it of such import?

11:20 I don't see how to reconcile this with the Witness' insistence that the Lord's Supper take place only annually. "When you come together" certainly seems to apply to more than an annual occurrence.

11:27 And what would constitute and " an unworthy manner"? To excess? In a morally unclean state?

11:34 This seems to argue for the former.

12:3 This is a rather convenient way for "false" prophets to establish some credibility.

12:11 The Spirit here certainly has agency, as though an individual, rather than a mute force.

12:24 In what way? Paul may be belaboring the metaphor here. To pick it apart:

• What are the more honorable members of the literal body? One would imagine the head and the heart, while the more dishonorable members are the feet or the pudendum.
  
• In what way to the feet get more honor than the head? In that they are clothed?
  
• In what way does the pudendum get more honor than the heart? In that it is secreted?
• This seems to connect to his discussion of hair in ch.11: That the head recieves its own glorious apparel, and it is shameful to cover it.

12:28 Interesting that the seemingly most desirable of gifts--tongues and healing--are the lowest ranking.

CH 13 Perhaps one of the most famous and widely memorized of chapters in the entire Bible, and for good reason. I can't think of much to add--other than that he has what amounts to a pronoun referent problem: What is it that will signify the end of these things? "The Complete" is certainly an intriguing appellation. I see no clue here even.

14: Now, how exactly is one supposed to strive for gifts of prophesy when the assignation of such things is purely arbitrary, as determined by spirit?

14:2 The Witnesses often claim that The Complete that Paul references in ch.13 has already come, and that correspondingly all such gifts have disappeared, and that all who seem to exhibit such gifts are either fraudulent or influenced by Demons. They say that the early Christians' gifts of tongues were in actual tongues, known languages, and modern speaking in tongues is mere babble--not from spirit. This verse contradicts that claim--clearly at least some speaking in tongues was incoherent. Furthermore, their assertion does not seem possible under Paul's theology in 12:3.

14:13 The power to speak in tongues is lower in the hierarchy than the gift of prophesy or interpretation for a very good reason.

14:18 If Paul's gift is one of tongues, does that mean that he is lower in authority? Does he ever actually claim the gift of Prophecy? It is convenient that he has put the gift of Apostlehood first in 12:28.

14:26 I love this model of worship. I have often wanted to have a group of friends that I could do this with--void of pedagogy or dogma, free from instruction of all sorts--a simple sharing of love and inspiration.

14:34 Is a woman not permitted the gifts of prophecy then? Or tongues? This is manifestly untrue. So where are these gifts to be shared, if not in the church?

15:1 So it's time for a little pure theology, rather than applied . . .

15:10 Paul doesn't ever shy away from truths--pleasant or un.

15:29 People often laughingly criticize the LDS for this very practice, but there seems to be a clear precedent.

15:32 My sentiments exactly, at one poiont in life. Nowadays, however, I feel that if the dead are not raised, let us be all the more virtuous--for its own sake, not that of a reward.

15:52 Not a common justification for the doctrine of the Rapture, but certainly in support of that belief.

16:21 Not true of every letter of his--worthy of note. What part did Sosthenes play in this letter then?

Umberto Eco: The Name of The Rose

This book was not what I expected. I expected something more meta-literate from the hands of Eco, a noted semiotician. Which is not to say it was illiterate--some of my favorite moments came from his references to Boethius or Apuleius, and I confess to a little pride in having read the referenced works. In spite of its pleasures, the book never really seemed to reach beyond its own pages. It made gestures in the direction of certain worthy themes, the interreliance of books upon each other, etc. But I was dissapointed to realize at the close that Eco had written only what he had set out to write: a novel.

G.K. Chesterton: The Man Who Was Thursday and Seven Suspects

I have already said much that I have to say about Chesterton in general upon reading Selected Father Brown Stories, to wit: That he is a much better philospher than detective writer. The books are filled with little errors in judgement, of the sort that one sees in amateurish Hollywood blockbusters---nothing terrible, just occassionally forgetting to tell us something, or omitting some detail that would have made the scene easier to track. Jarring at most, as if the cinematographer had mistaken the line of sight and confused the audience about who was speaking to whom for a moment.

As I have mentioned elsewhere, it is just as well that his prose is not airtight, for his stories are never really detective stories at all. They are always philisophical, almost religious, in bent, and the crime is mere bait or frosting, depending on his intent. I had forgotten this as I began to read The Man Who Was Thursday, so it was only natural that his implausible dialogue, his seeming misrememberance of earlier established facts, were vexing at first. It was only after I remembered that it is folly to read Chesterton as fiction that I began to truly enjoy this remarkable novella. What he offers is not a detective story at all, but an allegory that offers all the pleasures of allegory--the fine, confluent detail, the overlapping and interlocking symbolism--without much of its didacticism. I can't help but feel that it would have been better undisguised.

The stories in Seven Suspects are a little more passable, and one could almost overlook the mysticism if careless. After reading Thursday, however, my pump was primed, and I sought it everywhere. Nor was I dissapointed. A passage that still brings chills, even upon multiple readings:

Do you remember when we last met at that theatre and I told you that I always liked the picture on the curtain as much as the scenes of the play. . . from any other angle I should see that it was only a painted rag. That is how I feel about this world, as i see it from this mountain. Not that it is not beautiful, for after all a curtain can be beautiful. Not even that it is unreal, for after all a curtain is real. But only that it is thin, and that the things behind it are the real drama" (The Tower of Treason).

How perfectly this parallels my own thinking lately. Taken literally, all that we seem to perceive is but a trick of light. The space between particles of matter is so much exponentially bigger than the matter itself, we may as well be looking at an image projected onto a cloud or water vapor. And if we allow it to, the light is constantly altering what we seem to see, as a shadow falls across it, or as our eyes change their focus, or as the light itself changes. Every visual image we have is quite literally a trick of the light, an optical illusion. It has no reality, and is rather more like Chesterton's theater curtain than anything else. Better yet, perhaps it is more like a scrim, that peculiar sort of theater screen that is opaque when lit from the front, but translucent lit from behind. If the light hits it just right, all that we seem to perceive could instantly disappear to reveal something else, something that may or may not be more real, but would at least be different.

Catching up . . .

Margaret Atwood: The Handmaid's Tale

It has been so long since I updated this blog, due to a combination of computer failure and motivation failure, that I have forgotten most of what I meant to say about this book. To remind myself what I thought, I went back to see what pages were dogeared, and found only one. Not surprisingly, it was the most meta passage in the book:

"This is a reconsctruction. All of it is a reconstruction. It's a reconstruction now, in my head, as I lie flat on my single bed rehearsing what I should or shouldn't have said, what I should or shouldn't have done, how I should have played it."

Atwood's narrator further bemoans the difficulty of ever communicating events as they really happened. No matter what, our stories are always many times removed from reality--and perhaps removed the furthest by our own capacity to edit.

I myself am fascinated by this phenomenon, though unlike Atwood's narrator, I don't regret the fact. I relish my editorial post in this life--the trick is not to believe your own story, to be cognizant of its inherent falsehood. The future is a lie. It will never happen. It is fine to lie alone in our beds and write stories about it, but we must never make the mistake of believing those stories, building expectations or anxieties. The past, too, may well have never happened. It most certainly did not happen the way we remember it. We lay in our solitude and return, replay, regret, but it is never more than an illusion projected onto a cloud.

Which brings me to:

Robert Schwartz: Courageous Souls

Recommended to me by my dear friend 주협, this book did not disappoint. The above reminders inspired by Atwood, are an especially appropriate framework in which to discuss it for two reasons: firstly, the central idea is that our stories are one step further removed from reality than Atwood implied: that every event upon which our stories were based is in fact an expression of something unseen, something that happened before we were born even. The way in which the author outlines that idea is rather involved, and I will not go into it here. He does a good job of outlining it, but it is important to remember that this too, is just a story. It is a story about stories, in fact, about how we construct and conceal them. It is helpful, and even healing to read, but it would be a mistake to take it as reality.

C.S. Forester: Mr. Midshipman Hornblower

I can't find a single dogeared page in this book, so I guess there was no particular passage that I wanted to remember or quote verbatim. Instead, I want to read every other volume in the series. It was fresh and engaging, serious without being ponderous, exactly the sort of thing I should read more of.

Mathieu Ricard: Why Meditate?

It seems enough to say that my Dad gave me this book. As could be inferred from that statement, it has little to recommend it.

Useless though the book is, however, reading it served to remind me that January is an excellent time to give my personal meditation practice a shot in the arm. In 2010, I have been meditating along the lines of Ernest Holmes' model, but I cannot say that I have put much effort into it or been very consistent.

Since reading Ricard's book, on the other hand, I have managed to meditate--fruitfully, I might add--every day. I guess it did its job after all.

Aleksandr Ostrovsky: The Storm

In the preface to this edition (Bibliobazaar, for those interested), the editor makes two comments, either of which would have sufficed to lower my expectations for this play. Firstly, she or he (identified only as E.G. for some reason) identifies Ostrovsky as " . . . the greatest of the Russian dramatists." On what authority is this ludicrous statement made? What makes Ostrovsky (largely unknown outside of Russia) better than Chekov or Gorki? Ridiculous. Secondly, "All the reproach that lives for us in the word theatrical is worlds removed from 'The Storm'. . . people who like 'farcical comedy' and social melodrama, and 'musical sketches' will find 'The Storm' deep, forbidding and gloomy." Of course, I am one of those people, so I didn't expect much to like this play.

I was not wrong, but my distaste for it did not arise from the editor's expected causes. For one thing, it was indeed gloomy, but not particularly deep. In fact, in a play where the heroine hurls herself to her death after her affair is discovered, the above assertion that the play is not theatrical seems patently absurd. Rather than overly dramatic, I found the play too simple for my taste. The plot is uninventive, and the characters uninteresting. This first item from the sixth year of Ward's Lifetime of Reading has been a disappointment, but he fails me so rarely, and plays take so little time to read, that I forgive him.

Doris Lessing: The Cleft

LOL I knew Lessing was a feminist when I picked up this book, so I really should have guessed the subject from the title. Still, in spite of basically being about pussies and how men are stupid, but women are stupid for liking them, it was a fun book. The structure kept it from becoming didactic, and Lessing has a way with narrative. If there is something hidden in these few pages, I suspect that the clue lies in the narrator's reference to Artemis and Diana as two different gods, even though that has no saliency for me. The story is clearly set in Rome, so why would he even mention Diana? There is something here that is occurring to me, even as I write it down, about how our modern myths are just more mature versions of older ones--including the myth of where men and women came from. I bet, if I were a feminist critic instead of merely a personal one, I would take that ball and run with it.

Won H. Kim: Water of Life, A Cure for our Bodies

Results don't lie. If I read this book in a vacuum, I would have discounted it as so-called quack science. It is written and organized in such a way that the science behind it seems fuzzy at best, and even wishful at times. Part of this may be due to translation, but surely not all of it.

However, I did not read it in a vacuum. The author's daughter is a very close friend of mine, and her story plays a large part in the book itself. The seemingly ridiculous health claims made in the book, about how her need for troublesome and ineffective hormone supplements was nearly eliminated by mere water, are not exaggerated in the least. Crystal really has been taking specially treated water instead of medicine for years.

Which is the only reason I don't laugh at the later parts of the book, where the science gets even fuzzier, and the claims even more outlandish. Could it be true? Can we really be cured of deadly diseases so easily? The fact that Crystal's Dad is under investigation for his claims strengthens his credibility, rather than weakening it. Of course such discoveries would come under attack. At any rate, I am at least half convinced that what he describes is true, and am willing to at least consider the possibility of the other half--and believe me, it's pretty strange. . .

Romans II

9:1 Paul seems more to be convincing himself than his audience

9:2-5 What an interesting source of anguish. He almost wishes he didn't know the truth so as not to be alienated from his own people.

9:9 but he justifies it by claiming that Christians are the real holders of Abraham's legacy.

9:14-16 Paul takes this as an example of God's justice, but it certainly seems to be otherwise. If God's mercy is arbitrary, as was his selection of Jacob over Esau, what could be less just?

9:17 and here he invokes another example, but weakens his point. Surely god set Pharoah up, hardening his heart just to make a point. Was this just?

9:20 and the only answer that can be made, "well, his ways are a mystery" is utterly unsatisfactory.

9:23 it is well and good that god should use the objects of wrath to make known the riches of mercy--unless you happen to be one of those objects of wrath, in which case it is bound to seem unfair.

9:33 and here god has said with his own voice that he purposefully set some up to take a fall.

This whole chapter has left me feeling quite melancholy. If one is to believe the Bible at all, this book, but especially the Hebrew Scriptures, then I am most certainly one of those "objects of wrath that are made for destruction." I am by Biblical standards, quite flawed. The funny thing is, so was Paul. What is the difference? Why has he been "saved" and I have not?

10:1 and what good are Paul's prayers that so and so be saved, if god's decision on these matters is arbitrary and irreversible?

10:3 and he seems to be talking about the Nation of Israel as a whole here--no wonder he is in such anguish writing these words. It is his own people that have been set aside for destruction.

10:13 and yet, is this all that is necessary? If so, Paul is contradicting himself rather seriously . . . of course, his theology is sound if one applies only to the specific case of Israelites who have heard the word of Christ. For the rest of us, though, what application is to be made of these words? We have neither law nor faith by which to be saved? We have not been born into law, like Israel, nor have we been called to faith, for, as Paul describes in ch.9, this call is arbitrary. Paul is not addressing such cases here, of course, but if the theology is sound, then how can it fit?

11:1 It is telling that Paul cannot help but refer to the Israelites as "God's People", even though he well knows that the appellation no longer really fits.

11:4 In what sense did Go keep these 7,000 for himself? Did he actively intervene in their exercise of free choice? Is this what we are calling, "Grace"?

11:7 More and more, this book takes on the flavor of a convulsing dialectic, one that may never reach synthesis. When Paul asks, "What then?" it doesn't seem rhetorical anymore. He seems to realize that he has reasoned himself into a corner, and doesn't know what's next.

11:11 A terrible proposition: that the Gentiles are God's backup date, intended to make Israel jealous.

11:16 This metaphor takes some of the sting out of that though. Nicely played. The question is, in the metaphor what is the root? Israel, or God?

11:25 And what is that "full number"? Does that mean that a limited number of Gentiles can be saved?

11:26 Is all Israel intended for salvation in the sense that Gentiles will fill the empty places, and so the number will be unchanged, or the entrance of Gentiles will inspire the nation as a whole to repentance (whereupon Paul seems to thing the Gentiles would become irrelevant)?

11:28-32 Okay it's about to get really twisted; let's see if I can make sense of Paul's reasoning here: The Jews are still elect, but were disobedient so the Gentiles have received mercy. What is not clear is in v.31 how the mercy shown to the Gentiles opens mercy up to the repentant Jews. I suppose the connection must be made to v.23 where branches that have been cut off can be grafted back on--in this sens the mercy of the grafting process is made possible for the Jews after is has been made necessary for the Gentiles.

11:33 Did Paul just give up understanding this muddle? This wasn't even the worst one; I thought I untied it rather nicely above.

12:3 "According to the measure of faith that God has assigned" is an interesting phrase. Is Paul indicating that, as grace is in ch.11, so faith is portioned out administratively?

12:6 But Paul makes that sound like such a good thing: very ecumenical. Even just being cheerful is a gift of spirit--kind of like, "Well, she has a great personality. . ."

12:16 The only one in this list of usual exhortations that caught my eye: "Do not claim to be wiser than you are" as opposed to "Do not claim to be wiser than another". This makes me giggle inside.

12:19 I like this expression: "Leave room for the wrath of God". Don't avenge yourselves, not because it is wrong, but because if you avenge yourselves then God won't do it.

13:1 This certainly seems to be an untenable argument--that no authority exists that God has not instituted. Surely Paul realizes that it is a ridiculous proposition; could he be covering his ass here? Paul asserts that the governmental authorities are no impediment to good, which is manifestly and immediately disprovable.

In all, this chapter is really nice though. Sweet, poetic, and meaningful.

14:15 Paul takes a bold step here, one that elevates this chapter from mere proverbs to real theology. He takes aim here, not at flawed ideas, but at the stony, proud hearts of mankind, who insist on their "rights" and especially on being "right". It is the natural path of any religion, as it develops, to begin with a focus on righteousness, and end up in a pit of rightness. What Paul proposes here is revolutionary: let yourself be wrong--not wronged, but actually be wrong--for the sake of your brother. That may be a gift more subtle and more profound than giving one's life.

15:1 and doing so, don't clap yourself on the back either. The noble thing that Paul proposes is to let yourself be wrong, and let your brother whom you know to be wrong--albeit harmlessly--think himself right. So difficult . . .

15:17 Rather an unorthodox thing to dwell on for half a chapter . . .

15:27 another untenable position--surely meant more with a smirk than as actual theology.

16:1 this chapter reads like a postscript, or a list of attachments.

16:22 This Tertius is a potentially fascinating character. I wonder what else is known about him. Seems to be a psuedonym, especially when considering that he calls his bother Quartus.

Joseph Conrad: Under Western Eyes

"Speech has been given to us for the purpose of concealing our thoughts." (136)

It takes Conrad a while, but with this quote he reveals his purpose, much like he did in The Secret Agent. On the surface, this is yet another spy novel, but underneath is the painful thesis that people never really know one another, especially those separated by culture on top of our already insurmountable isolation. I have treated this theme already in the aforementioned book of Conrad's, so why not touch on a more personal application of this idea, one to which I am beginning to subscribe . . .

Let's call this fellow Jay. Why not? That's what he calls himself, and the fact that it is not his real name should already be revealing. Jay is a Korean man who has lived in the United States for 15 years, and speaks nearly perfect English. Jay and I have remarkably similar values and religious beliefs--startlingly so. We also share several interests, not the least of which are opera and cuddling. On top of these overlapping features, he also has a powerful set of relationship skills, with which I continue to be impressed. In short, Jay and I should be able to communicate well, as well as can be expected of any two people, let alone two people of different nationalities.

Be we do not. Even in flawless English, I find that our messages are muddied somehow, misinterpreted and transformed into something offensive. Conrad would not be surprised, of course, so why should I be? I already know that one never knows another, not measurably, yet I find myself startled each time. To avoid wallowing, let me conclude by saying that it is a source of wonder and fear that, in each mind that passes my way, there is an entire universe every bit as strange and complicated as the one in my own mind, and it would take a lifetime to understand, even I did have access to it. Which I do not.

Albert Camus: The Fall

I can think of no better endorsement of this novelette than to announce that I have found the epigraph for my memoir:

"But what do I care? Don't all lies eventually lead to the truth? And don't all stories, true or false, tend toward the same conclusion? . . . Sometimes it is easier to see clearly into the liar than into the man who tells the truth. Truth, like light, blinds. Falsehood, on the contrary, is a beautiful twlight that enhances every object. Well, take it how you like, I was named Pope in a prison camp" (340,41).

Aside from being a riveting panegyric thinly disguised as a narrative, this book has one other distinguishing feature: it is the only fiction work I can think of that is written in the second person. The possibilities that such a format offers opened before me as I read it, and they are considerable. It is strange that more authors don't make use of it--only Browning even toyed with it that I know of. Even here, Conrad only scratches the surface of the possibilities. So, I shall take more than Conrad's words for my memoir. I shall write it, at least partly, in the second person. It was never going to get published anyway--maybe not even written.

Albert Camus: The Plague

As strong is this book, it could stand on its on simply on its surface merit. That is to say, a riveting if morbid account of the spread of Bubonic Plague through a small town in Africa. The characterization and pacing are especially strong, and the work is a refined piece of literature. So strong, in fact, that it is tempting to leave it there and move on.

Which may be why Camus chose to tip his hand in the epigraph and encourage the reader to look a little closer:

"It is as reasonable to represent one kind of imprisonment by another, as it is to represent anything that really exists by what which exists not!" ~ Daniel Defoe

Thus does Camus to declare his ambition to write more than a flawless narrative, and dive into an allegorical representation. Simply replace "imprisonment" in Defoe's words with "plague," and you have nearly unraveled Camus' meaning.

But the question remains, for what sort of plague is his literal plague a metaphor? It is pretty evident from his focus throughout that he means to represent the fatal separation of all mankind from each other, for it is that psychological aspect of the event that he treats, almost to the exclusion of all others. The word "isolation" is ubiquitous, clearly not due to Camus' limited lexicon.

And it is revealed over the course of the story that the plague does not cause the isolation; it simply reveals an isolation that already existed in the lives of all. The conscience of the story, Tarrou, remarks, "everyone's always cut off from everyone else", not as a result of the plague, but of their consciences (172). Later, this same character cements the connection between plague and isolation in his final diatribe, as he uses "plague" to describe his entire life, irrespective of the literal disease. "I, anyhow, had had plague through all those long years," he observes, recounting his life. "What does that mean--'plague'--just life. No more than that" (222, 270).

And so it is in Camus' world. Men are incurably isolated from one another--not by choice, but from birth. Those to whom we think we are connected, with whom we experience the illusion of intimacy, are always separated from us. We never truly know another, and sadly, there is some truth in what he proposes. I, for one, take Woolf's view that we are indeed leaves floating blinding in a stream, but that we occasionally, in blessed moments, manage to bump into each other (A Room of One's Own).