7 20 5666 https://s3.us-east-1.amazonaws.com/sjcdigitalarchives/original/a8c8690c64ceb1bd7f61fd2eac6d22af.mp3 fb868fc60ce201ae66d19791f917eebf Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Description An account of the resource Items in this collection are part of a series of lectures given every year at St. John's College. During the Fall and Spring semesters, lectures are given on Friday nights. Items include audio and video recordings and typescripts. For more information, and a schedule of upcoming lectures, please visit the <a href="http://www.sjc.edu/programs-and-events/annapolis/formal-lecture-series/" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">St. John's College website</a>. Click on <a title="Formal Lecture Series" href="https://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/items/browse?collection=5&sort_field=Dublin+Core%2CDate&sort_dir=d">Items in the St. John's College Formal Lecture Series—Annapolis Collection</a> to view and sort all items in the collection. A growing number of lecture recordings are also available on the St. John's College (Annapolis) Lectures podcast. Visit <a href="https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/st-johns-college-annapolis-lectures/id1695157772">Apple Podcasts</a> or <a href="https://open.spotify.com/show/6GDsIRqC8SWZ28AY72BsYM?si=f2ecfa9e247a456f" title="Spotify">Spotify</a> to listen and subscribe. Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource St. John's College Greenfield Library Title A name given to the resource St. John's College Formal Lecture Series—Annapolis Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context formallectureseriesannapolis Sound A resource primarily intended to be heard. Examples include a music playback file format, an audio compact disc, and recorded speech or sounds. Original Format The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data audiocassette Duration Length of time involved (seconds, minutes, hours, days, class periods, etc.) 57:56 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Cells and Genes Are Parts of Animals: Aristotle in the Late 20th Century Description An account of the resource Recording of a lecture delivered on September 16, 1994, by James N. Jarvis as part of the Formal Lecture Series. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Jarvis, James N. Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available St. John's College Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Annapolis, MD Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1994-09-16 Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource St. John's College has been given permission to make this item available online. Type The nature or genre of the resource sound recording Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource mp3 Subject The topic of the resource Aristotle. De partibus animalium Cytology Language A language of the resource English Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context Tape 1347 Alumni Friday night lecture https://s3.us-east-1.amazonaws.com/sjcdigitalarchives/original/9a614441dd040a4a6a9f0c5efb310915.mp3 43f3eeef2c7828f20a3ee9f12028b52f Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource St. John's College Lecture Recordings—Santa Fe Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource St. John's College Meem Library Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Santa Fe, NM Sound A resource primarily intended to be heard. Examples include a music playback file format, an audio compact disc, and recorded speech or sounds. Original Format The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data M4A Duration Length of time involved (seconds, minutes, hours, days, class periods, etc.) 00:47:50 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource The Pleasure of the Mathematical Text Description An account of the resource Audio recording of a lecture given by Philip Ording on May 2, 2025 as part of the Dean’s Lecture & Concert Series. The Dean’s Office has provided this description of the event: “There is no shortage of evidence that professional mathematicians describe their work in aesthetic terms, but the terms they use, at least publicly, are limited. The oft-repeated ‘beauty’ and ‘elegance’ may be important components of mathematical taste, but they fail to convey its range or subtlety or how it relates to literary and aesthetic experiences beyond mathematics. This talk will highlight the material differences in logic, diction, imagery, and even typesetting that give tone and flavor to mathematics.” Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Ording, Philip Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available St. John's College Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Santa Fe, NM Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 2025-05-02 Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource Meem Library has been given permission to make this item available online. Type The nature or genre of the resource sound Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource mp3 Subject The topic of the resource Mathematics--Aesthetics Language A language of the resource English Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context SF_OrdingP_The_Pleasure_of_the_Mathematical_Text_2025-05-02 Friday night lecture https://s3.us-east-1.amazonaws.com/sjcdigitalarchives/original/814ec9540bd0e0403b390b32e28fda22.mp3 26e1089c2769488031641f089d2913b0 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource St. John's College Lecture Recordings—Santa Fe Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource St. John's College Meem Library Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Santa Fe, NM Sound A resource primarily intended to be heard. Examples include a music playback file format, an audio compact disc, and recorded speech or sounds. Original Format The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data M4A Duration Length of time involved (seconds, minutes, hours, days, class periods, etc.) 00:56:58 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource I Know Not Seems: Appearance, Reality, and the Grave of Ophelia in Shakespeare's Hamlet Description An account of the resource Audio recording of a lecture given by tutor Kit Slover on April 25, 2025 as part of the Dean’s Lecture & Concert Series. The Dean’s Office has provided this description of the event: “In the final act of Shakespeare’s Hamlet the northern prince stumbles upon the grave of Ophelia, leaps in, and declares himself to the funeral goers: ‘This is I, Hamlet the Dane’ (V.1, 279). By calling himself the Dane, Hamlet seems to identify himself as the rightful king of Denmark—as though the grave, in particular, is his sovereign territory. The grave itself was dug by a sexton who took up his profession ‘on the very day that young Hamlet was born’ (V.1, 152), which also happens to be the day ‘our last king Hamlet overcame Fortinbras’ (V.1, 148), seizing the Norwegian lands of the latter. This acquisition is familiar to us from the beginning of the play because the ghost of the former king has appeared ‘in the very armor he had on/When he the ambitious Norway combated’ (I.1, 71-71). And the appearance of this ghost has set off a chain of events resulting in the death of the women into whose grave Hamlet leaps. In this lecture, I will attempt to understand this strange scene. Why is it here, in a grave with such uncanny ties to his own birth, the ghost of his father, and the ultimate fate of Denmark that Hamlet asserts his sovereign rights? Hamlet cries, ‘This is I, Hamlet the Dane,’ but what, in short, does he mean by the word this?” Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Slover, Kit Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available St. John's College Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Santa Fe, NM Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 2025-04-25 Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource Meem Library has been given permission to make this item available online. Type The nature or genre of the resource sound Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource mp3 Subject The topic of the resource Shakespeare, William, 1564-1616. Hamlet Language A language of the resource English Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context SF_SloverK_I_Know_Not_Seems_2025-04-25 Friday night lecture https://s3.us-east-1.amazonaws.com/sjcdigitalarchives/original/90ffa477ec3d107b85c9e87e750c3a8f.mp3 16d0b1855a02361814ca70f5f133a96e Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource St. John's College Lecture Recordings—Santa Fe Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource St. John's College Meem Library Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Santa Fe, NM Sound A resource primarily intended to be heard. Examples include a music playback file format, an audio compact disc, and recorded speech or sounds. Original Format The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data m4a Duration Length of time involved (seconds, minutes, hours, days, class periods, etc.) 01:01:08 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource King Lear's "Love Test" Description An account of the resource Audio recording of a lecture given by David Hayes and Jeremy Schwartz on April 18, 2025 as part of the Dean’s Lecture & Concert Series. The Dean’s Office has provided this description of the event: “The ‘Love Test’ in King Lear is widely understood to be the central puzzle in one of Shakespeare’s greatest plays. As part of a political succession plan, it seems unnecessary. As part of a loving relationship between parents and children, it seems grotesque. It doesn’t even seem to be a real test, since the result is supposed to be pre-ordained. While it is clear that the disastrous results of the test set the whole tragedy in motion, neither we nor the characters within the play seem to grasp the ‘why’ of the test itself. In this talk, we will argue that the ‘Love Test’ is best understood by reflecting on the vexed question of the ends of the parent-child love relationship. Surprisingly, Shakespeare challenges the view that the filial pious child solves this vexed question, opening the possibility that parent-child love is tragic.” Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Hayes, David ; Schwartz, Jeremy Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available St. John's College Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Santa Fe, NM Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 2025-04-18 Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource Meem Library has been given permission to make this item available online. Type The nature or genre of the resource sound Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource mp3 Subject The topic of the resource Shakespeare, William, 1564-1616. King Lear Language A language of the resource English Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context SF_HayesD_and_SchwartzJ_King_Lear's_Love_Test_2025-04-18 Friday night lecture https://s3.us-east-1.amazonaws.com/sjcdigitalarchives/original/ff7bfd4169bfe68641bb849521eb84b3.MP3 e26431b0eac6a9f2919d3c3b675c789c Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource St. John's College Lecture Recordings—Santa Fe Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource St. John's College Meem Library Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Santa Fe, NM Sound A resource primarily intended to be heard. Examples include a music playback file format, an audio compact disc, and recorded speech or sounds. Duration Length of time involved (seconds, minutes, hours, days, class periods, etc.) 01:01:03 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Speedy Achilles Description An account of the resource Audio recording of a lecture given by Tutor Emeritus Howard Fisher on April 9, 2025 as part of the Dean's Lecture & Concert Series. The Dean's Office has provided this description of the event: “Galileo’s mathematical treatment of ‘speed’ perennially draws questions about both the validity and presuppositions of his argument. But perhaps we can make more sense of Galilean speed when we find in it traces of Homeric speed: the speed of ‘speedy Achilles.’ We may also find some Homeric grounding for an algebraic form of discourse exemplified by the Taylor Series—a form that moves uneasily between favoring being and favoring fact.” Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Fisher, Howard J., 1942- Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available St. John's College Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Santa Fe, NM Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 2025-04-09 Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource Meem Library has been given permission to make this item available online. Type The nature or genre of the resource sound Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource mp3 Subject The topic of the resource Galilei, Galileo, 1564-1642. Discorsi e dimostrazioni matematiche. Relation A related resource https://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/items/show/8044 Language A language of the resource English Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context SF_FisherH_Speedy_Achilles_2025-04-09 https://s3.us-east-1.amazonaws.com/sjcdigitalarchives/original/2689666d1da8a00f354c975ab498fc44.pdf acfa92beb17bbdb4ca373b8160a5b135 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Speedy Achilles Description An account of the resource Transcript of a lecture given by tutor Howard Fisher on April 9, 2025 as part of the Dean's Lecture & Concert Series. The Dean's Office has provided this description of the event: "Galileo’s mathematical treatment of 'speed' perennially draws questions about both the validity and the presuppositions of his argument. But perhaps we can make more sense of Galilean speed when we find in it traces of Homeric speed: the speed of 'speedy Achilles.' We may also find some Homeric grounding for an algebraic form of discourse exemplified by the Taylor Series—a form that moves uneasily between favoring being and favoring fact." Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Fisher, Howard J., 1942- Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available St. John's College Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Santa Fe, NM Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 2025-04-09 Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource Meem Library has been given permission to make this item available online. Type The nature or genre of the resource text Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource pdf Subject The topic of the resource Galilei, Galileo, 1564-1642. Discorsi e dimostrazioni matematiche. English Language A language of the resource English Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context SF_FisherH_Speedy_Achilles_2025-04-09 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource St. John's College Lecture Transcripts—Santa Fe Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource St. John's College Meem Library Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Santa Fe, NM Description An account of the resource Items in this collection are part of a series of lectures given every year at St. John's College at the Santa Fe, NM campus. Text A resource consisting primarily of words for reading. Examples include books, letters, dissertations, poems, newspapers, articles, archives of mailing lists. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre Text. Original Format The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data paper Page numeration Number of pages in the original item. 16 pages Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Speedy Achilles Description An account of the resource Transcript of a lecture given by tutor emeritus Howard Fisher on April 9, 2025 as part of the Dean's Lecture & Concert Series. The Dean's Office has provided this description of the event: "Galileo’s mathematical treatment of 'speed' perennially draws questions about both the validity and the presuppositions of his argument. But perhaps we can make more sense of Galilean speed when we find in it traces of Homeric speed: the speed of 'speedy Achilles.' We may also find some Homeric grounding for an algebraic form of discourse exemplified by the Taylor Series—a form that moves uneasily between favoring being and favoring fact." Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Fisher, Howard J., 1942- Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available St. John's College Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Santa Fe, NM Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 2025-04-09 Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource Meem Library has been given permission to make this item available online. Type The nature or genre of the resource text Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource pdf Subject The topic of the resource Galilei, Galileo, 1564-1642. Discorsi e dimostrazioni matematiche. English Language A language of the resource English Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context SF_FisherH_Speedy_Achilles_2025-04-09 https://s3.us-east-1.amazonaws.com/sjcdigitalarchives/original/070dd7a4c9235bfa3062709ae4ac4b9f.mp3 bc341b1fc400d8ecd74456d935b01f8a Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource St. John's College Lecture Recordings—Santa Fe Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource St. John's College Meem Library Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Santa Fe, NM Sound A resource primarily intended to be heard. Examples include a music playback file format, an audio compact disc, and recorded speech or sounds. Original Format The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data M4A Duration Length of time involved (seconds, minutes, hours, days, class periods, etc.) 00:57:16 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Right Thoughts at the Last Moment: Buddhism and Deathbed Practices in Medieval Japan Description An account of the resource Audio recording of a lecture given by Jacqueline Stone on April 4, 2025 as part of the Dean's Lecture & Concert Series. The Dean's Office has provided this description of the event: "Premodern Japanese believed that one's dying thoughts could determine one's postmortem fate. Even a sinful person, by dying with a mind calmly focused on the Buddha, could be reborn in a 'pure land,' where one's enlightenment would be assured. Conversely, a stray distracted thought at that final juncture could send even a devout practitioner tumbling down into the hells or other miserable rebirth realms. The ideal of mindful death generated both hope and anxiety and created a demand for ritual specialists to serve as religious guides at the deathbed, contributing to Buddhist preeminence in matters of death management." Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Stone, Jacqueline Ilyse Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available St. John's College Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Santa Fe, NM Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 2025-04-04 Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource Meem Library has been given permission to make this item available online. Type The nature or genre of the resource sound Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource mp3 Subject The topic of the resource Death--Religious aspects--Buddhism Buddhism--Customs and practices Japan--history Language A language of the resource English Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context SF_StoneJ_Right_Thoughts_At_The_Last_Moment_2024-04-04 Friday night lecture Rohrbach lecture Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Description An account of the resource Items in this collection are part of a series of lectures given every year at St. John's College. During the Fall and Spring semesters, lectures are given on Friday nights. Items include audio and video recordings and typescripts. For more information, and a schedule of upcoming lectures, please visit the <a href="http://www.sjc.edu/programs-and-events/annapolis/formal-lecture-series/" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">St. John's College website</a>. Click on <a title="Formal Lecture Series" href="https://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/items/browse?collection=5&sort_field=Dublin+Core%2CDate&sort_dir=d">Items in the St. John's College Formal Lecture Series—Annapolis Collection</a> to view and sort all items in the collection. A growing number of lecture recordings are also available on the St. John's College (Annapolis) Lectures podcast. Visit <a href="https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/st-johns-college-annapolis-lectures/id1695157772">Apple Podcasts</a> or <a href="https://open.spotify.com/show/6GDsIRqC8SWZ28AY72BsYM?si=f2ecfa9e247a456f" title="Spotify">Spotify</a> to listen and subscribe. Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource St. John's College Greenfield Library Title A name given to the resource St. John's College Formal Lecture Series—Annapolis Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context formallectureseriesannapolis Hyperlink A link, or reference, to another resource on the Internet. Original Format The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data mov Duration Length of time involved (seconds, minutes, hours, days, class periods, etc.) 01:06:58 URL https://youtu.be/ca-ZKJugQnA?si=cB7IuvD-uUOHabaQ Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource <a href="https://youtu.be/ca-ZKJugQnA?si=cB7IuvD-uUOHabaQ">On Written Speech</a> Description An account of the resource Video recording of a lecture delivered on February 7, 2025, by Annapolis tutor Mary Elizabeth Halper as part of the Formal Lecture Series. Ms. Halper offers this description: "There are two kinds of speech: the speech we speak and the speech we read. This lecture is on the latter. By way of comparison with spoken speech, and with help from Plato's Theaetetus, Phaedo, and Phaedrus, the lecture will reflect on written speech as such, what it offers us and what it asks from us." Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Halper, Mary Elizabeth Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available St. John's College Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Annapolis, MD Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 2025-02-07 Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource St. John's College has permission to make this item available online. Type The nature or genre of the resource moving image Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource YouTube video Subject The topic of the resource Speech Written communication Plato. Theaetetus Plato. Phaedo Plato. Phaedrus Language A language of the resource English Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context LEC_Halper_Mary_Elizabeth_2025-02-07_ac Friday night lecture Tutors Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Description An account of the resource Items in this collection are part of a series of lectures given every year at St. John's College. During the Fall and Spring semesters, lectures are given on Friday nights. Items include audio and video recordings and typescripts. For more information, and a schedule of upcoming lectures, please visit the <a href="http://www.sjc.edu/programs-and-events/annapolis/formal-lecture-series/" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">St. John's College website</a>. Click on <a title="Formal Lecture Series" href="https://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/items/browse?collection=5&sort_field=Dublin+Core%2CDate&sort_dir=d">Items in the St. John's College Formal Lecture Series—Annapolis Collection</a> to view and sort all items in the collection. A growing number of lecture recordings are also available on the St. John's College (Annapolis) Lectures podcast. Visit <a href="https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/st-johns-college-annapolis-lectures/id1695157772">Apple Podcasts</a> or <a href="https://open.spotify.com/show/6GDsIRqC8SWZ28AY72BsYM?si=f2ecfa9e247a456f" title="Spotify">Spotify</a> to listen and subscribe. Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource St. John's College Greenfield Library Title A name given to the resource St. John's College Formal Lecture Series—Annapolis Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context formallectureseriesannapolis Hyperlink A link, or reference, to another resource on the Internet. Original Format The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data mov Duration Length of time involved (seconds, minutes, hours, days, class periods, etc.) 00:43:39 URL https://youtu.be/zaOtM2cdiGQ?si=-IbDPGZmi-uNCcNw Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource <a href="https://youtu.be/zaOtM2cdiGQ?si=-IbDPGZmi-uNCcNw">The Power of Solitude in Sophocles’ Philoctetes</a> Description An account of the resource Video recording of a lecture delivered on March 28, 2025, by Dr. Emily Austin as part of the Formal Lecture Series. Dr. Austin is an Associate Professor of Classics and the College at the University of Chicago, with research interests in Greek literature, especially Homer and depictions of solitude in ancient Greece. Her first book, Grief and the Hero: the Futility of Longing in the Iliad, explores the nexus of grief, longing and anger in the Iliad. She is currently working on a second book, Solitude and its Powers in Ancient Greece, which identifies surprising moments when ancient Greek poetry conceives of solitude as a good thing. Dr. Austin offers this introduction to her lecture: "Sophocles’ Philoctetes presents its lonely hero as incomparably wretched. Yet this suffering figure also claims that his isolated survival is something uniquely heroic. This lecture explores the tension between debasement and nobility in Sophocles’ play, taking seriously Philoctetes’ claims to heroism, which are unparalleled in the poetic discourse of his time." Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Austin, Emily P. Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available St. John's College Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Annapolis, MD Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 2025-03-28 Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource In copyright. Type The nature or genre of the resource moving image Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource YouTube video Subject The topic of the resource Sophocles. Philoctetes Solitude in literature Heroes in literature Language A language of the resource English Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context LEC_Austin_Emily_2025-03-28_ac Alumni Friday night lecture https://s3.us-east-1.amazonaws.com/sjcdigitalarchives/original/fbd8839cb4b572ec64c78088e73b5058.pdf df9eea89af0e9f98fe1d716904906161 PDF Text Text On Written Speech Mary Elizabeth Halper 7 February 2025 Prelude As beings who have some hold on the workings of logos, we are blessed with two chief miracles, which, for all their mundanity, are no less miraculous. These are spoken speech and written speech. This lecture is on written speech as such. There is a temptation to suppose that the speech we read and the speech we speak are not all that different. Haven’t we heard it said – or perhaps have said ourselves – that the written speech we spend so much time with has its own voice? Isn’t it held as an aspiration that we enter into a conversation with these bundles of written speech we call books? And don’t we mark it as an achievement to find that some sample of written speech speaks to us? All these are familiar ways to conflate written speech with spoken speech. These are ready temptations, perhaps because we suspect that written speech needs such a conflation to come out fairly when compared to spoken speech. For when we start comparing the two, spoken speech seems to claim a distinct advantage. In the first place, spoken speech precedes written speech in time, both for our species and, usually, for each of us individually. After this first priority, many more and invidious distinctions suggest themselves: Spoken speech sounds; written speech is silent. Spoken speech is responsive, adaptable, immediate; written speech is impassive, indifferent, distant. Spoken speech is free; written speech is fixed. The one is alive – a child of the very breath that sustains us. The other is dead – dark marks dug onto a fair, flat surface. Perhaps such a stark hierarchy so simply delivered has already begun to rankle. Good. But hold – for in this unjust relief we may see through the supposed deficiencies of written speech to glimpse its distinctive character, 1 �its unique capacities. Let us compare the two, yes. But let us compare them as two, permitting ourselves neither any easy elision nor derisive ranking. In this endeavor, I will need help. And for that help I turn to Plato. As I said, this lecture is on written speech as such, not on any particular written speech. Nevertheless, I will recruit three Platonic dialogues – incidentally three of the four dialogues in which some written speech is present. It is not incidental, though, that Plato’s writings should be my allies and my touchstones. For the crucial difference in the powers of spoken and written speech is their very stuff: they are, after all, written speeches of spoken speeches – mostly spoken by a man who, within the dialogues, never wrote (or nearly so) and all written by one who, within the dialogues, never utters a syllable. I Let us start with the marks made by writing, since the most obvious difference between spoken and written speech is that the latter is visible. Written speech is inscribed speech, made from some definite system of figural characters. And since we are hewing close to the differences between spoken and written speech, let us narrow our sight to phonetic script systems. For unlike other forms of scripts – say, unvocalized systems or ideogrammatic systems – phonetic scripts aim to imitate the sounds of spoken speech, and thus offer us a place for the most delicate of distinctions. Phonetic scripts are the ones with which many of us are most if not exclusively familiar. English and French both, with some slight modifications, use the Latin script, which is phonetic. And, of course, Greek is written in a phonetic script. A and B or alpha and beta – the first two characters in these systems, these alpha-bets – announce their phonetic character straight away. What makes a script phonetic is that it can represent all the relevant sounds – that is, all the significance-bearing sounds of a language. And for that, you need characters for vowels and consonants. Being, as we are, finite and bound at some point to replenish what we expend, any sound made with breath has a start and a stop. We can modulate the sounds we make with our breath by shaping our mouths in different ways, and we can start and stop that sound with even more numerous and varied configurations of our tongue, teeth, and lips. The differently shaped sounds are vowels, and the sundry ways to pick up or leave off those sounds are 2 �consonants. There is an asymmetry here: Consonants, while they are the principal source of variety in our speech, cannot by themselves be spoken. As their class name tells us, they can sound only with some vocalization of a vowel. Their being sounded depends upon other sounds. A complete sound with its peculiar starts and stops is a syllable. An image for us: As with a line, the extremities of which are different in kind from it, a syllable’s length is its vowel sound and the consonants are the points wherewith it may begin or end. Phonetic script captures this heterogeneity by providing characters for both the vowel sounds of a language as well as the ever-attending consonants. But in that very capturing, it also erases this heterogeneity by providing what is always sonically dependent with a graphically independent character. To look at the character α and at the character β, nothing in their written shapes give any indication of their ontological asymmetry, or perhaps we should say, hierarchy. It certainly doesn’t look like β depends on α; as far as their inscribed form is concerned, they are equally letters. As written elements of speech, they offer no hint of the difference that makes all the difference when they are spoken together. With respect to their graphic character, they are as indiscernible as points – one is no different from the other. To return to our image: whereas a vocalized syllable has a continuous magnitude, like a line, a written syllable makes no such pretensions: it is as a collection of proximate points. Between the audible syllable and the visible collection of letters, some transmutation has occurred. We might think of the letters as composing the syllable, or the syllable as being decomposable into letters. But that’s not quite right, as it is not quite right to think of the line as composed of points. In spoken speech, the syllable is no piecemeal composition – it is a continuous whole. The vowels and consonants are always already together, discernible to the ear but only within the sounding of the whole syllable. Only in written speech are the elemental vowels and consonants discrete parts as independent letters. There is, then, no simple correspondence between a vocalized syllable and its written counterpart. Moreover, in becoming discernible to the eye, these literary elements of the syllable are excluded from the perceptible mode of the syllable itself. We do not – cannot – hear the letters, we can hear only the syllable. If we want to claim that the syllable is braided together from the literary elements – as Socrates suggests in the Theaetetus – then we have a speakable braid woven from silent strands. And these letters cannot be sundered from their syllabic 3 �sounding; clearly the consonants are unable to be either voiced or spoken, and even the vowels, though able to be voiced, will not be significant unless they undergo this strange transmutation and become a whole syllable, no longer a merely a letter. The way to know the whole – the syllable – and the way to know its parts – the letters – are completely exclusive. But we must not forget that the syllable is itself a part of a word. What becomes of literary parts and their syllabic wholes when considered in the more capacious context of a word? What kind of whole is a word? It seems that there may be two ways to reckon the material of a word: two irreducible ways to take apart the same word, two systems of division that have no common measure. The word as spoken has as its smallest meaningful part the syllable. And in the word as written, the letter plays that elemental role. When speaking, you cannot cut up Theaetetus’ name any finer than its four parts “The” - “ai” - “te” - and “tos.” But as a name scratched or printed on a page, it clearly has ten parts (or nine, if you’re counting in Greek). Here we encounter another asymmetry between spoken and written speech. The syllabic parts of a whole multi-syllabic word correspond immediately to the spoken word. When we know each of the syllables of a word, we recognize the word. There is a continuity between the syllabic parts and the whole word; the way to know the syllabic parts is the same way to know the spoken word. But not so with the literary parts. When we analyze the word into its elemental letters, we make a break that cannot be so seamlessly mended. We have divided past what perception can put back together. We have new parts, parts of a different kind than their whole. Yet, what we know by the parts does not seem to increase our knowledge of the whole. Knowing the letters does not add to what we know by the syllables. In knowing how to aggregate letters we do not come to know anything more about their aggregate. Or, to return to our image of the line: picking out some points on the line does not tell us anything more about the line than what we got from encountering the line itself. So what do we know when we know the parts proper to written speech? We do not gain knowledge of something perceivable about the word – that knowledge is exhausted by knowing its syllables. If not of something perceivable, then perhaps we gain knowledge of something intelligible, something strictly intelligible. For all that a phonetic alphabet corresponds to significant sounds, I hope I have complicated the notion that the written word is an imitative repetition of the spoken word. There is a discontinuity between written and spoken 4 �speech. Consider, again, consonants – when written, they gain an independence that was impossible for them when they were perceptible to the ear. But how? By what kind of act? This split through the being of spoken and written speech is accomplished by thinking. The consonants’ independence is a theoretical one, a work of abstraction, the result of thinking now acting apart from perception. Consider these two descriptions, again from Socrates in his conversation with Theaetetus: Socrates describes thinking as “soul... conversing, itself asking and answering itself” and this in silence and before oneself alone. He also gives a description of speaking as “what makes one’s own thinking evident through sound with words and phrases, pressing his opinion into the stream through his mouth as into a mirror or water.” Spoken speech is an image of thinking shaped in the medium of what flows, as breath flows through our mouths, over our tongues, past our lips. The medium of the image is essential to the image: spoken speech expresses thinking as flowing, and flowing as a stream does. We can, in spoken speech, get ahead of ourselves. Our spoken sentences can run headlong, and sometimes on and on. It can even feel as if our spoken speech is outstripping the thinking it communicates. Spoken speech gives expression to the venturesome, precipitate, ecstatic character of thinking. But Socrates’ first description of thinking does not quite fit with this image. Thinking possesses another characteristic – one that cannot be captured with the image of a flowing stream, but perhaps is better imaged as an eddying whorl. Thinking can turn around on itself. It has the power to arrest the direction of its flow. It is capable of repose and riposte. Thinking as reflexive and recursive, as silent and self-considering – this is the activity of thinking uniquely exercised in written speech. In making written speech independent from spoken speech, thinking earns a kind of independence for itself. In written speech, thinking separates what in sounded speech is inseparable, and in doing so it makes a place for this distinctive activity. The discontinuity between written and spoken speech arises from thinking making room for itself. Perhaps then it is not so surprising after all that written speech adds nothing to our knowledge of the word already perceived through spoken speech. Written speech is not an addendum to spoken speech, but an independent desmesne with its own mode of signifying. And the special significance that belongs to written speech shelters the soul’s silent, selfconcerned activity. With written speech, thinking makes for itself a home in 5 �which it may return to itself, a place where it may freely play out its peculiar ability to turn around and face itself. Perhaps you suspect that you are catching the bitter scent of solipsism. In focusing on the discontinuity of thinking, in describing written speech as thinking’s self-made home, have I in fact locked thinking away in an isolated cage of its own making, condemning it to a frictionless spinning of selfconcern? Has this interpretation of visible speech made the thinking therein opaque, impenetrable, impermeable and thus unable to be shared? No – at least, I hope not. But the path now open may be even more unsettling. II Let us begin again with another asymmetry: Spoken speech is to speaking not as written speech is to writing. I’ll say that again: spoken speech is to the act that generates it not as written speech is to the act that generates it. Of the first pair, speaking is primary. Speaking is the place of the speech’s fullest being. Spoken speech apart from speaking – like a recording or a recitation – is a residue of the real thing, clearly derivative and diminished. Even the likes of Phaedo reporting so poignant a conversation as the one had on the day of Socrates’ death cannot escape the loss of some of the living speech. And I think we can all recognize the loss of something essential when we listen to a recording of living speech – perhaps one reason why we do not allow anyone to record our seminars. Speaking belongs to a moment, a context, an occasion, and a speaker. The source of spoken speech’s integrity and significance is in the speaking. None of this is so for written speech and writing. Far from being primary, writing is a sort of antecedent accident to the written speech – merely the way to bring about what is the real thing. Written speech is no residue of the act of writing, its lingering after-image; written speech is the fulfillment of the writing. Writing is for the sake of having written, and written speech is in its very structure meant to be complete, to be whole. To borrow some terms from the study of grammar, we might say that while the progressive aspect is proper to spoken speech, written speech belongs in the perfect aspect. And under this perfect aspect, written speech is also capable of independence. The discontinuity we observed in its material parts – its letters – appears again in its form. Written speech is made to be apart from its writer. The generative activity of written speech is exhausted in its generation. And 6 �because of this, it can bear being severed from its source. Once written, the speech includes all that it is to be, and thus bears its own integrity and significance. Because written speech is bounded, definite, and meant to be definitive, it admits of revision. Because written speech is discontinuous with the act that produces it, a new, distinct act of writing can work upon the same written speech. And because it is independent of the acts that produced it, it can be returned to again and again. Once the written speech is set down, it abides. It abides for the writer: ready to be recast if necessary (and we all know from our own experiences with writing that revising is almost always necessary). And, if all goes well, it abides for the reader: ready to be taken up again and again. This repeatability is not the same hollow hearsay we get in a report of living speech; or the reedy playback of a recording of living speech. Written speech allows – invites – a repetition of a different kind, and an indefinite number of them. By virtue of being separable and perfect in its separability, written speech can repeat in a way unavailable to spoken speech. Consider again Phaedo’s repetition of Socrates’ final day to Echecrates. Phaedo may affect Socrates’ manner when reciting Socrates’ words, but to Echecrates they are Phaedo’s words in some ineliminable way. Consider now reading Plato’s Phaedo: the signals of quoted speech (such as quotation marks and set phrases of “he said” and “he replied”) bracket the speech itself, and we in turn can easily bracket them. That is, in written speech the quoted speech appears as the quoted speaker’s; through written speech we can encounter the quoted speech more immediately. It seems difficult if not impossible for Phaedo to disappear into the speeches as he relates them to Echecrates. Whereas it is quite easy for us to completely lose sight of Phaedo when we read the Phaedo. It is even possible to – in fact, often, it is difficult not to – forget that Socrates’ quoted speech and Phaedo’s direct speech are in fact Plato’s written speech. We might debate fiercely (and likely fruitlessly) about just whose speech Plato’s written speech really is – but to the extent that this debate would be gripping, it is predicated on our detecting in Platonic dialogue some lively source at work, some provocative origin of the speeches. It may belong peculiarly to Platonic dialogue to bring us into intimacy with that source as much as it bewilders us about its identity. But this repetition of that origin – a repetition that brings us closer to rather than reminding us of our distance from that source – is an essential, peculiar characteristic of written speech itself. 7 �Written speech’s power to remain, independent and perfect, means it also has the power to preserve. Xanthippe, being shooed out of her husband’s cell, leaves with these parting words: “Socrates, now is the last time your companions will talk to you and you to them.” Xanthippe’s words are as penetrating as they are accurate. She is right. At least, we grant that she is right as far as Socrates’ spoken speech goes. But many if not all of us feel, at least for a moment, that she is not wholly right. Socrates speaks to us still, our soul longs to claim, each time we read the Phaedo. There – in the written speech – a sliver of a soul remains alive, saved from the grasping reach of death. Whether that bit belongs to Socrates or Plato matters less than that it can belong to us again when we read. In abiding, in remaining, the life of written speech is essentially an afterlife. Written speech, then, may seem to offer its writer a play for – and a play on – immortality. The story may go like this: a writer summons up speech from within her soul; she sets it down in writing; she picks it up again in rewriting; at last, she sends it away for whatever readers it may find. The speech, now affixed to parchment or paper, is free from her and also free from the death that will inevitably come for her. Her speech lives on in a new body – a repeatable body – and the original life it had in her may be relived for as long as it remains able to be read. This is a lovely story, and one that writers may sing to themselves over and over to bring comfort in the often toilsome, taxing labor of writing. It is a lovely story for us readers too. When we pick up what an author has set down, we can for a moment share the writer’s life, acquire an intimacy with her that overcomes the intervening time and space, which otherwise would be abysmal. But perhaps this story is too lovely. For it seems that the writer’s chance at an afterlife through writing depends on a reader reading. Perhaps it is truer to consider the living thought of the author as intermittently preserved in the written speech. That is, the written speech is an inert vessel, an embalmed body, keeping the living source in stasis until a reader comes along to quicken it. The reader then reanimates the written speech, makes it capable of speaking again, like the dead that drink of Odysseus’ blood offering. And like Odysseus, we readers may have to sacrifice so that the the speech can live again and its writer live on after a fashion. The written speech is then like a corpse or a shade; the afterlife it provides its writer is occasional – relying on the occasion of being read– but to the extent that it is still a kind of life, still a possibility for communion, this more sober story 8 �is still a noble one. That written speech relies on a reader prompted us to tell a more sober story. Thinking of written speech as a corpse more ennobles the reader’s activity, which then becomes a kind of near-divine act of resurrection. But if the original speech is to keep its integrity, that is, if we are not to diffuse the integrity of the speech-corpse as we infuse it with our own spirit, then the written speech cannot be simply a dead body, no matter how well-preserved. As much as we want the writer to live on in her written speech, so much are we deterred from taking written speech to be dead. Written speech as a shadowy imitation of the once-living helps with this unease. Our reading reanimates the written speech by setting in motion some residual morsel of the once-living soul that made the speech of itself. In reading, we call the imitation into a connection with its original and therewith assure ourselves somewhat that the written speech preserves the original thinking. We are brought to this middling position because we want written speech to grant continued life to its original source in such a way that preserves both its liveliness and its originality. We want the living speech of the writer to live again in us, but if the living speech is dormant until we take up the written speech, then the written speech without any reader is still dead. Then again, how could it not be? If written speech is to preserve, it must stay the same – it cannot grow or adapt or give off new shoots. The difference between dead written speech and dormant living speech is supplied only by a reader. So what else is a reader to consider herself than a resurrector or a shade-summoner? What else indeed. Let us ask again: how could written speech not be dead? Both the lovely and the sober story, show a lingering affection for and privileging of spoken speech – a return to the notion that written speech is only an imitation of spoken speech. If we want to say that in the written speech we hear the writer speaking to us, then we’re modeling written speech off of spoken speech. Indeed, in our haste to secure for the writer/speaker a life in her written speech, we may be doing just what Socrates hopes to avoid on his final day. He advises Simmias and Cebes to care rather for the speech than for the speaker, lest he, Socrates, departs as a bee that has left its stinger behind. To insist on keeping the speech attached to the speaker is to keep the stinger even as the bee buzzes off, in fact, buzzes off now to die. Instead of securing life for the writer, we keep only a remnant – a shred of her shade or a crumb of her corpse. 9 �In the stories I have just told, the writer’s thinking escaped her own mortality by taking on a new body in the written speech. But here’s a new story: a writer summons up speech from within her soul; she sets it down in writing; she picks it up again in rewriting; at last, she sends it away for whatever readers it may find. The speech now separated from the author’s mortal coil is a working of the soul separated from a body. The written speech is no new body; it is a soul concentrated and separated in an act of articulated thinking. And what is it to separate the soul from the body? It is to die. And that song that authors might sing to themselves as they write? It is not a consolation for a death to come, but for the dying that makes written speech possible. Now, this is unsettling, indeed, but let us not blink at it. If death is the separation of the soul from the body, then the result of death is twofold: a corpse and a soul by itself. But as we saw with written letters, the decomposition of the whole does not conserve all of its parts. For the bodysoul composite is lost as well; the particular self that lived all its life as this body-soul composite does not survive the separation. I will remain silent on whether this is the truth of our lives, but I do propose that it is true about written speech. Writing is a practice of dying and being dead, and written speech is living thinking itself by itself. It does not grow or change or adapt, but that is not because it is dead. It endures precisely because it is always and only what it is. Writing separates thinking from the thinker, not as dead thoughts requiring resurrection, but as living thinking. In this separation, the thinker – the writer – is left behind. Far from being an expression of the writer, or a self-reported record of a thinker’s thoughts – the working of the soul in written speech is separated not only from the body, but also from the writer’s self. The speech that seemed to be the writer’s proves to be its own. Written speech annuls its own parentage: its genesis is accidental to its being. So the writer, in writing, becomes to the written speech a no one. The speech of the writer, as written speech, does outlive the writer, but at the cost of no longer belonging to the writer. Written speech separates the speech from the writer finally – this is the ground of the features we saw earlier: written speech’s perfect aspect and its preservative power. Written speech does preserve its original source, its true parent. But written speech’s true parent is not the writer; its truth birth and its everlasting life is in the thinking that never was anyone’s. 10 �And in this, written speech again proves a peculiar kinship to thinking. It is because thinking belongs to no one that written speech has this possibility. This is perhaps a less obvious feature of thinking than its recursive power. But when it exercises this power, when it delights in its own activity, thinking belongs only to itself. Thinking in its silent, self-concerned activity, thinking that commits itself to written speech is anonymous. The only self of significance is thinking’s self, the self it discovers when concerned with its own activity. This is not to say that no thinker is required – as it cannot be said that no writer is required for there to be written speech. Rather, it is that no particular thinker is required. Whatever is thinkable is in principle thinkable by any thinker. Thinking may be contingent on the myriad of intricate details that go into making any one thinker just who she happens to be, but thinking in itself, thinking for itself, is unconcerned with its contingency. Thinking strains to be, and however it happens to come to be matters little to its being. Thinking is a concentration of the soul, the soul attending to its own activity – not as belonging to a particular body, not even as belonging to a individual self. Thinking is soul gathering itself to itself by separating itself from the self it is as jointly principle of thought and principle of a particular life. This power of soul to gather itself apart from itself is marvelous, yes, but not extraordinary. That our sinews and bones may be so movable that by them we may both walk and sit, so affected that in them we may feel both pleasure and pain – this is an ordinary marvel too. The ordinary marvel of thinking is always ready to spring up. That real thinking is so rare and so difficult is not because thinking itself is scarce or shy. Thinking is difficult because it demands a bit of dying. III Perhaps you are yearning for that moment – some several minutes ago – when you were worrying about solipsism. Even the acrid odor of self-imprisoned thinking may smell sweet compared with the stench of thinking as dying. Or perhaps you are wistful for the moment – some fewer minutes ago – when you were entertaining that lovely story in which the writer and the reader are joined through the medium of graphically preserved thoughts, overcoming all manner of distance to commune: the generosity of the writer and the gratitude of the reader united in a beautiful moment of grace. This is indeed 11 �a lovely story, and it is so because love seems to be at its heart. Your preference for life and love can hardly be held against you. And you have experience on your side. As a devotee to the written word, you have likely experienced the feeling of some slumbering part of your soul thrilling to life when you track a thought through a thicket of written speech, or the feeling of warmth and solace when you discover a deep kinship with a writer. These are dear moments, and I would consider it a painful blow against the account just given if it is unable to support them. Let me first address the stench of death: To say that thinking demands a bit of dying is not to say that thinking is death. Dying is the soul separating from its concern with the body, the soul grasping independence from the impingements of individual existence. This is not death as an irreversible state, but it is dying as an activity in which the agent, the thinker, is busy with becoming irrelevant to the act of thinking. This activity is not permanent, but intermittent. The kind of dying that thinking takes is an interruption of concernful being in the world as an unrepeatable individual, not the end of all possibilities for that individual. And this feature of discontinuity is mirrored in written speech. So, likewise, to say that writing is a practice of dying and being dead is not to make it into some sinister ritual. The act of writing is also a feat of becoming irrelevant. The act of writing is the act of making the agent, the writer, irrelevant to the written speech. To be done writing is to be done making a difference to the written speech. Once the written speech is complete, that is, once it is living thinking itself by itself, it cares as little for the particularities of the writer as of its reader. This indifference of written speech grounds its power to be an occasion for anyone to think. On this account, to sense your soul sparking to life when you become absorbed in written speech is rather to detect thinking absolving itself of its concern with all the contingencies of your being. You may still be unsettled about thinking as dying, but I hope the notion is no longer noxious. Yet, to the extent that this account has become less noxious, the status of love in it has become obnoxious. That is, it seems that there is simply no room for any intimacy between writer and reader if the written speech makes all their individuality obsolete. And lest any of you surmise that this is merely a romantic desire to keep kinship with the writers you love best, we must also consider that written speech itself has incorrigible particularity. Not only is it written in a particular language, but it is the particular arrangement of particular words. Those particularities are 12 �constitutive of the written speech, even as the speech is supposed to mirror the anonymity of thinking. So how can we have both love and thinking, both particularity and anonymity, both individuality and ideality? This is the hard problem remaining to us, and to address it, I will turn to Plato’s Phaedrus. Socrates encounters young Phaedrus heading out of Athens’ walls and accompanies him to the countryside, speaking of Phaedrus’ recent rendezvous with Lysias. This Lysias has been giving speeches, and Phaedrus seems to have been captivated by them, in particular one about why you should give erotic favors to the one who does not love you rather than the one who does. In fact, Phaedrus is carrying a copy of this speech written down. After he reads it to Socrates, Socrates critiques Lysias’s speech and offers his own version of the argument. Then Socrates critiques his own speech and makes another – a majestic palinode – vindicating the divine madness of eros. But before returning to Athens, Socrates takes up the subject of speech itself, concluding with a critique of written speech. Even from this paltry synopsis it should be clear why the Phaedrus is a fitting dialogue to consider. Not only is love its great theme, but it also includes the most extended reflection on written speech that Socrates ever gives. As much as the Phaedrus is fitting, however, it is also potentially fatal to the account of written speech offered in this lecture. For Socrates’ account of erotic love and of written speech seems to keep them forever apart. By Socrates’ argument only living spoken speech, only dialogue is compatible with erotic love properly understood. To the extent that it is an image or imitation of dialectic, written speech may support a kind of loving friendship – philia – between the writer and the reader by sharing in common with the reader what is understood by the writer. But this is the only way written speech may be worthwhile. Speeches like Lysias’ are a misguided use of written speech, just as misguided as Lysias’ conception of erotic love. And it must be granted that Lysias’ speech does seem like it is an instance of written speech as I’ve described tonight. Although the speech is attributed to Lysias, the giver of the speech can be anyone and the speech can be given to anyone. The conceit of the speech is a non-lover persuading a non-beloved to take on the trappings of a lover/beloved relationship. But insofar as nothing but absence of love marks the writer, and nothing but absence of a relationship to the writer as a lover marks the audience, the speech by anyone to anyone is a speech of no one’s. And this aspect of anonymity is most manifest in the speech as written. If we imagine the speech as spoken, 13 �we must imagine it as spoken only as a set speech, only as a recitation of something already formed and formed in abstraction from any particular situation. If we try to imagine the speech as given from someone in particular to someone in particular, then the content of the speech belies its delivery. The particular giver of the speech, as the non-lover, could not have in mind any particular beloved as the addressee without calling into question his status as a non-lover – any particular affection on his part would undermine his claim to be a non-lover. This speech in praise of loving the non-lover is, and must be, utterly impersonal. Its danger is two-fold: not only does it get erotic love spectacularly wrong, but it also seems to have a seductive power: the speech captivates Phaedrus, so much so that Socrates titles him a lover of speeches. Perhaps Phaedrus delights in it because it can become his as much as it began as Lysias’. Indeed, he first attempts to reproduce it in his own words before the written speech is spied out by Socrates. The impersonality of the speech, made concrete by its being written, is the source of the allure for this lover of speeches, even more than the impersonality of the suggested love relationship is supposedly alluring for the non-lover and non-beloved. Phaedrus is drawn to the speech because it is no one’s, and the non-love is attractive because it cannot involve anyone in particular. But just as the ground for the allure of non-love is the promise of control, so also control is the ground for the allure of impersonal speech. Nothing of you is at stake, nothing of you needs to be entangled in an impersonal speech or a non-love affair – you simply get what you already know you want and you need suffer no affect. And on this understanding of love, to love speech is to collect it, confine it, freeze it in one’s soul for memory to fish out at a whim. As the danger is two-fold, so is Socrates’ critique of Lysias’ speech and Phaedrus’ reception of it. Socrates first deals with the content of Lysias’ speech, erotic love; and then he attends to Lysias’ speech as speech, and particularly as written. Written speech plays no part in the rehabilitation of erotic love, and erotic love plays no part in the assessment of written speech. Given our interest in written speech, let us look to Socrates’ second critique first. Socrates’ critique of written speech begins with a story about its genesis. Theuth, the Egyptian god of many a techne, presents to Thamus, the Egyptian god-king incarnation of Ammon, an array of inventions for Thamus’ judgment, including his invention of letters. Upon submitting this invention for Thamus’ appraisal, Theuth lauds it as a drug – a pharmakon – for mem14 �ory. But Thamus responds to the invention as if it were a poison – again, pharmakon – written speech will weaken, he predicts, not strengthen memory. Written speech is helpful not for memory but for reminding, and the faith put in this recollection from without will enervate the power to recollect from within. The supposed moral of this myth is that written speech is medicinal only for those who already know what is in the written speech and a poison dressed up as a drug for those who do not know. This pharmaceutical written speech, Socrates continues, can only say the same words over and over to whoever picks it up. That is, it cannot respond adequately to continued inquiry, it cannot discern between the reader it will help and the reader it will harm, and it cannot defend itself against malignant interpretation (nor, we must imagine, can it confirm just interpretation). The target of Socrates’ critique is a insensitive, indiscriminate, and impotent written speech, a written speech that is strictly instrumental, a technical written speech. And with it goes a technical way of reading. Technical reading adopts the posture of user to the written speech. Even the chilling term “consumer” is too lively for this kind of reader, inasmuch as consuming suggests at least the possibility of metabolizing the written speech. Technical reading carts written speech along as a tool to be leveraged. Even when that tool is carried within the soul, that is, even (or perhaps especially) when the written speech is memorized, the technical reader’s relationship to it is wholly extrinsic. Technical reading may internalize the speech but only to the extent that it makes part of the soul external to the rest. Technical written speech is made for use, and technical reading makes of us users. But from this wreckage of written speech, Socrates offers a glimmer of hope. There is, he says, a legitimate brother to the just-critiqued kind of writing: it is the written image of the living, breathing speech in the soul of the one who understands. This written speech, by virtue of the dialectical art that generated it, inscribes the living speech of the writer in the soul of the reader. The reader’s soul is thus inscribable because he too has the capacity for the dialectical art. By virtue of the writer’s kinship of soul with the reader, this written speech will plant seeds that flower and fruit perennially. The dialectical affinity between writer and reader allows written speech to overcome its defects; the capacity for true understanding shared by writer and reader allows written speech, despite its constitutive discontinuity, to be a method of communion. Socrates rescues written speech by making it the thing in common among friends, among those who are alike in their love 15 �of wisdom. This noble written speech is the sort about which we told our loving, lovely story, and it alone, according to Socrates, is clear, perfect, and serious. This written speech alone is clear – but clear like a transparent window; it is perfect – but perfect as knowledge is perfect and as learning is imperfect; and it is serious because it has a lofty function to fulfill. That is, the whole of written speech’s redemption rests on the one who makes it and the one who takes it up – written speech itself is not redeemed. The critical difference between technical written speech and its legitimate brother is with respect to the father: if it is sired by one who has come to know through the dialectical art, then it can be used to reach others who need only reminding of that art to recover their own knowledge. And on this model, the graphic character of the speech is only ancillary – much like a mother is considered merely a receptacle for the formative seed of the father – the written speech is merely a medium and never the message. Likewise, when the reader takes in the speech, he does not adopt the sons of this writer-father, but sires his own soul-sons. That is, what flowers and fruits in the soul of the reader is his own thoughts. The legitimate reader of the legitimate speech is reminded of what he already knows, brought to awareness of his slumbering knowledge by the scribblings of the legitimate writer. This recollection on the part of the reader is indeed from within, but the written speech remains wholly without. Thus legitimate written speech is just as much made for use as its bastard brother, and it just as much makes of us users, however nobler. So here is Socrates’ response to our riddle about written speech: We were in love with speeches in the wrong way. Because of our misguided love, we mistook written speech to be something worthy in itself, possessing its own unique relationship to thinking. The problem grew out of our misunderstanding of the nature of written speech; our mistake was in making it more than a tool for extending spoken speech. According to Socrates, written speech is at best a technique for uniting lovers of wisdom in friendship and at worst a seductive sham of wisdom itself. We can attain the best and avoid the worst, only if we recognize that the most written speech can be is a useful imitation of living, spoken speech. That, I surmise, is Socrates’ answer. But is it Plato’s? Or rather, is it the Phaedrus’s answer? Within the dialogue, eros and written speech are accidentally thrown together in Lysias’ speech. Socrates’ effort throughout the dialogue is to separate them. But what Socrates attempts to divide 16 �within the dialogue is ultimately and irrevocably united in the whole that is the dialogue itself. What is only accidental within the dialogue becomes necessary as constitutive of the written speech that is the dialogue itself. From within the dialogue, it seems only coincidence that Phaedrus meets Socrates, that Phaedrus happens to have just this speech of Lysias; but if not for these, there could be no Phaedrus, the dialogue we read. From within the dialogue, Socrates’ speeches on eros and his treatment of written speeches are united only by Phaedrus’ lingering interest in written speech; but were we to read only the one or the other, we would violate the integrity of the dialogue. That the dialogue is written speech accounts for its capacity to transform contingency to necessity and bind otherwise lonesome pieces into a genuine whole. Socrates himself alludes to this capacity of written speech when he first critiques Lysias’ writing. Before he launches his more comprehensive reproof of written speech, Socrates names some features of well-written speech that Lysias’ speech lacks. But what Socrates identifies only as a sign of good style, I believe, is a possibility that discloses the perfection of written speech. This feature is anagke logographike or logographic necessity, which I would gloss as the necessity belonging to speech written thinkingly. The -ikos ending indicates the art or science corresponding to the root word. So we have logo – speech – graph – as written – ike – in an way that belongs to a craft or a science, or, in a way dictated by thinking. When all the parts and particularities are put together by the rule of thinking, then the written speech possesses logographic necessity. Then there is nothing accidental, nothing extraneous, and nothing meaningless in written speech. When every letter, every word, every relationship between every word, every relationship between every sentence is just as thinking demands, then the written speech becomes like a living creature – to use the image Socrates does. The likeness to a living creature holds not just with respect to the composition of the animal but also to the life of that animal. For animals have whatever head or feet they have arranged the way they are because of the kind of life the animal leads. The whole determines the part as an element organized for the living of the whole. Logographic necessity allows written speech to live. If written speech can attain logographic necessity, it need not be only an imitation of living speech as spoken. It has the possibility of life on its own terms, with as much a dignified relationship to thinking as spoken speech has. Note that written speech lays claim to necessity not by scrubbing itself 17 �clean of contingency, but by submitting every bit of its possible peculiarity to the bidding of thinking. Likewise for thinking. The anonymity of thinking is not the absence of personality, as if what is needed is to ignore your unique specificities. Thinking is not an abstraction from your contingency, but the concentration of your ownmost activity. Thinking absolving itself of its concern with all the contingencies of your being is at once you offering all your contingencies to be absolved. Thinking as an interruption of your concernful being in the world takes you being concerned with thinking. For just as much as thinking is no one’s, no one can do it for you. This paradox, that the absolution of identity demands absolute involvement of your most intimate self, is not only the paradox of written speech, not only of thinking; it is also the paradox of erotic love. In his fabulous palinode, Socrates reveals that the true end of erotic love is not the premeditated possession of a body but a spontaneous striving for beauty. Its true character is an all-consuming madness that cannot be moderated without being negated. I will trace just one – one! – of the many mythic images Socrates enlists to wrangle the mystery of erotic love. The immortal human soul is originally and essentially a winged denizen of an intelligible hyper-heaven, but it is recurrently and inescapably dragged to the earthly plane and bound in gross flesh. When, thus bodily incarcerated, a person falls in love, the lover’s attraction to the beloved is due to the soul’s attraction to the divine ideas it left behind when it became captive to a body. The lover’s captivation with the beloved frees the soul from its sclerotic seclusion in a body. The more the lover devotes himself to the beloved, the more his soul is nourished by what it strove after in its life apart from the body. The lover fully in love bears in his soul both a repetition of how it was before the lover was born and a presentiment of how it will be after the lover dies. The soul is transformed by this nourishment, returning to the winged form it had when it was most wholly itself, that is, when it was utterly detached from any of the particularities of the lover. Yet, the love is begun and continues in the particularities of the lover and beloved. Their idiosyncracies are not a one-off instigation to the love, to be dismissed once the love is underway. They are the continual occasion for the love, recurring prompts to the soul to collect itself into anonymity. All these peculiarites of their persons are poured into the soul’s striving to return to the ideas, to return to the place where peculiarities cannot be recalled. And in this way erotic striving is a rehearsal of dying. Soul gathering itself to itself from the self it is in its individuality, soul 18 �collecting itself into anonymity – I previously named this thinking. We see now that it can also bear the title eros. The wild spontaneity of self-concerned thinking is the divine madness of erotic love. And thinking and eros must be an undertaking of the whole self. All your unrepeatable particularity, the plenty of your contingency and complexity, every intricacy of your identity, all of this must be at stake for thinking to be love and love to be thinking. Coda As with all consummations in this corporeal plane, this one too is short-lived. We must eat; we must sleep; we must stretch our legs – and you will soon, very soon, I promise. And beyond the necessities of food and rest, we are subject to distraction by any manner of thing, diverted from even the most absorbing moments of love and its little deaths. Nevertheless, if we can hold out a little longer, we have a few loose ends to tie off. In my rapturous rush to the height of love and thinking, I seem to have left written speech behind. Of course, in Socrates’ story, spoken speech is the dialogical intercourse between the lover and beloved. But in my story, written speech is not the speech shared between lover and beloved – written speech is the beloved. Here is a last story: The writer glimpses the written speech, a hint of an idea bearing a silent promise of a beautiful whole. The writer pursues the written speech, devoting herself to finding just the words required, to arranging the sentences and paragraphs or lines and stanzas just as the idea, the thinking, her love bids her do. In turn, the reader picks up the written speech and finds herself captured by an intimation of its beautiful wholeness. She strives after this whole, devoting her attention to the words, their arrangement in sentences or lines, and their arrangement in paragraphs or stanzas. In this ardent attention to even the smallest moment in the movement of the written speech, she is summoned into thinking. The written speech is not the common thing among friends, but the same beloved of two lovers. The writer and reader are bound in their loving and echo each other’s dying. Their kinship is compelled by the written speech that arouses each soul into being what it was always to be: in love with and alive in thinking. 19 � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Description An account of the resource Items in this collection are part of a series of lectures given every year at St. John's College. During the Fall and Spring semesters, lectures are given on Friday nights. Items include audio and video recordings and typescripts. For more information, and a schedule of upcoming lectures, please visit the <a href="http://www.sjc.edu/programs-and-events/annapolis/formal-lecture-series/" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">St. John's College website</a>. Click on <a title="Formal Lecture Series" href="https://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/items/browse?collection=5&sort_field=Dublin+Core%2CDate&sort_dir=d">Items in the St. John's College Formal Lecture Series—Annapolis Collection</a> to view and sort all items in the collection. A growing number of lecture recordings are also available on the St. John's College (Annapolis) Lectures podcast. Visit <a href="https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/st-johns-college-annapolis-lectures/id1695157772">Apple Podcasts</a> or <a href="https://open.spotify.com/show/6GDsIRqC8SWZ28AY72BsYM?si=f2ecfa9e247a456f" title="Spotify">Spotify</a> to listen and subscribe. Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource St. John's College Greenfield Library Title A name given to the resource St. John's College Formal Lecture Series—Annapolis Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context formallectureseriesannapolis Text A resource consisting primarily of words for reading. Examples include books, letters, dissertations, poems, newspapers, articles, archives of mailing lists. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre Text. Original Format The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data pdf Page numeration Number of pages in the original item. 19 pages Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource On Written Speech Description An account of the resource Typescript of a lecture delivered on February 7, 2025, by Annapolis tutor Mary Elizabeth Halper as part of the Formal Lecture Series. Ms. Halper offers this description: "There are two kinds of speech: the speech we speak and the speech we read. This lecture is on the latter. By way of comparison with spoken speech, and with help from Plato's Theaetetus, Phaedo, and Phaedrus, the lecture will reflect on written speech as such, what it offers us and what it asks from us." Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Halper, Mary Elizabeth Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available St. John's College Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Annapolis, MD Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 2025-02-07 Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource St. John's College has permission to make this item available online. Type The nature or genre of the resource text Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource pdf Subject The topic of the resource Speech Written communication Plato. Theaetetus Plato. Phaedo Plato. Phaedrus Language A language of the resource English Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context LEC_Halper_Mary_Elizabeth_2025-02-07 Friday night lecture Tutors https://s3.us-east-1.amazonaws.com/sjcdigitalarchives/original/07bc0cf4bca759dea3124b8626d45853.mp3 9309e6321210635ddd3360539fcb7395 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource St. John's College Lecture Recordings—Santa Fe Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource St. John's College Meem Library Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Santa Fe, NM Sound A resource primarily intended to be heard. Examples include a music playback file format, an audio compact disc, and recorded speech or sounds. Original Format The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data M4A Duration Length of time involved (seconds, minutes, hours, days, class periods, etc.) 00:49:40 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Zarathustra's Metamorphosis of the Mind Description An account of the resource Audio recording of a lecture given by Steven Berg on March 7, 2025 as part of the Dean’s Lecture & Concert Series. The Dean’s Office has provided this description of the event: “Nietzsche’s Thus Spoke Zarathustra begins with Zarathustra descending from the heights of his overflowing wisdom to effect, in the wake of what he calls the “death of God,” the transformation of the historical destiny of mankind through the dissemination of his teaching of the “overman.” The overman, he proclaims, must now become the “meaning of the earth,” the supreme aim of the human will, and the ultimate object of all human thought and striving. The book ends, however, with Zarathustra, in the aftermath of the collapse of all his efforts to transmit this teaching, renouncing his doctrines of the overman and the will to power, and turning away from human beings and a concern with the historical progress of mankind, in order to retreat once again to his mountain solitude. This turn away from the will and history coincides with a turn toward the quest for truth of the soul and mind in their relations to eternity. The following question must arise for anyone attempting to understand the argument of Thus Spoke Zarathustra: What has happened to Zarathustra during the course of the drama of the book such as to cause this radical transformation of his thought. This lecture will make an attempt to begin to address this question.” Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Berg, Steven, 1959- Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available St. John's College Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Santa Fe, NM Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 2025-03-07 Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource Meem Library has been given permission to make this item available online. Type The nature or genre of the resource sound Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource mp3 Subject The topic of the resource Nietzsche, Friedrich Wilhelm, 1844-1900. Also sprach Zarathustra Language A language of the resource English Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context SF_BergS_Zarathustras_Metamorphosis_of_the_Mind_2025-03-07 Friday night lecture https://s3.us-east-1.amazonaws.com/sjcdigitalarchives/original/ce7d6e4cacc5795b046200e276f0d1c4.mp3 bc0bf14b64c717ddaa8f9c40abe297e0 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource St. John's College Lecture Recordings—Santa Fe Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource St. John's College Meem Library Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Santa Fe, NM Sound A resource primarily intended to be heard. Examples include a music playback file format, an audio compact disc, and recorded speech or sounds. Original Format The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data M4A Duration Length of time involved (seconds, minutes, hours, days, class periods, etc.) 00:48:28 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Democracy, Empire, and the Pharmakon in Thucydides Description An account of the resource Audio recording of a lecture given by Larry George on February 28, 2025 as part of the Dean’s Lecture & Concert Series. The Dean’s Office has provided this description of the event: “Does Thucydides believe that empire and democracy are compatible? Do war, conquest, domination, and the exploitation of other polities actually safeguard and protect political space for imperial democratic regimes to flourish, or do they instead corrupt, sicken, and poison the democratic body politic? Does imperial wealth and power perhaps function like a powerful, addictive political drug—strengthening, invigorating and revitalizing the polis, while at the same time intoxicating its democratic way of life by rewarding injustice and inflaming internal factionalism and polarization, leading to the demonization and scapegoating of individuals and groups, tyranny, treason, civil war, and other forms of political derangement, including even plagues and epidemics, both biological and political? In this lecture, we will seek clues to the great historian’s own understandings and teachings regarding these matters, by casting a raking light on Thucydides’ use of the strange word ‘pharmakon’, whose various contradictory and complex meanings include both medicine and poison, as well as addictive drug, and which is etymologically related to the curing of political derangement through the apotrapaic expulsion of scapegoars. As Americans embark on a new political era, is it possible that Thucydides’ history (which he called a “possession for all times”) may offer insights into some of the unprecedented challenges facing our country’s foreign policy, and our fragile democracy, today?” Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource George, Larry Nelson Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available St. John's College Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Santa Fe, NM Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 2025-02-28 Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource Meem Library has been given permission to make this item available online. Type The nature or genre of the resource sound Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource mp3 Subject The topic of the resource Thucydides. History of the Peloponnesian War Democracy Language A language of the resource English Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context SF_GeorgeL_Democracy_Empire_and_the_Pharmakon_in_Thucydides_2025-02-28 Friday night lecture https://s3.us-east-1.amazonaws.com/sjcdigitalarchives/original/dd3983e7078c045f7c15ef779165ee17.mp3 ecde27d8a7b0dae15a3629f98210eaf7 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource St. John's College Lecture Recordings—Santa Fe Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource St. John's College Meem Library Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Santa Fe, NM Sound A resource primarily intended to be heard. Examples include a music playback file format, an audio compact disc, and recorded speech or sounds. Original Format The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data M4A Duration Length of time involved (seconds, minutes, hours, days, class periods, etc.) 00:59:44 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Euclid vs. the Indivisible: The Mathematical Battle over the Shape of Modernity Description An account of the resource Audio recording of a lecture given by Amir Alexander on February 21, 2025 as part of the Dean’s Lecture & Concert Series. The Dean’s Office has provided this description of the event: “On August 10, 1632, the Revisors General of the Society of Jesus met in Rome to pronounce on a simple question: Whether a straight line is composed of an infinite number of distinct points. The proposition seemed trivial, but their decision proved momentous, launching a decades-long battle between two competing visions of mathematics, and of truth. On the one side were the champions of inviolable hierarchy and unchallengeable order; on the other, the advocates of increased pragmatism and tolerance. The battleground was the infinitely small. At stake was the face of modernity, then coming into being.” Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Alexander, Amir Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available St. John's College Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Santa Fe, NM Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 2025-02-21 Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource Meem Library has been given permission to make this item available online. Type The nature or genre of the resource sound Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource mp3 Subject The topic of the resource Euclid. Elements Indivisibles Language A language of the resource English Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context SF_AlexanderA_Euclid_vs._the_Indivisible_2025-02-21 Friday night lecture https://s3.us-east-1.amazonaws.com/sjcdigitalarchives/original/f92c88f5fea4b02fec8ac0923a1601b9.jpg acad20b489e541d77124d14f1a0ec939 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Image Collection—Annapolis Description An account of the resource The Greenfield Library Image Collection houses over 5,000 photographs, postcards, drawings, and other graphic materials. The images in the collection document the history, academic, and community life of St. John’s College. To learn more about the Greenfield Library's archives use policy or to obtain high-resolution images, please see the <a title="Image Collection Use Policy" href="http://www.sjc.edu/academic-programs/libraries/greenfield-library/policies/#photographicarchivepolicy" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Library’s Image Collection Use Policy</a>. Click on <a title="Photographic Archives" href="http://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/items/browse?collection=7">Items in the Image Collection—Annapolis Collection</a> to view and sort all items in the collection. Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available St. John's College Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource St. John's College Greenfield Library Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Annapolis, MD Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context imagecollectionannapolis Still Image A static visual representation. Examples include paintings, drawings, graphic designs, plans and maps. Recommended best practice is to assign the type Text to images of textual materials. Original Format The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data tif Resolution Resolution of the image in dpi. 300 dpi Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Eva Brann in conversation with a student, 2004 Description An account of the resource Photograph of Annapolis tutor Eva Brann in conversation with a student, taken in 2004. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource St. John's College (Annapolis, Md.) Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available St. John's College Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Annapolis, Md. Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 2004 Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource In Copyright <a href="https://rightsstatements.org/page/InC/1.0/?language=en">https://rightsstatements.org/page/InC/1.0/?language=en</a> This Item is protected by copyright and/or related rights. You are free to use this Item in any way that is permitted by the copyright and related rights legislation that applies to your use. For other uses, you need to obtain permission from St. John's College. See the Greenfield Library's <a href="https://libguides.sjc.edu/policies/collection">Archives Policy</a> for more information about rights and permissions. Please make sure to credit St. John's College using the citation provided in this record. Type The nature or genre of the resource still image Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource jpg Subject The topic of the resource Brann, Eva T. H. Conversation Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context COM-FAC-BRANN-P-0017b Deans Tutors https://s3.us-east-1.amazonaws.com/sjcdigitalarchives/original/5ba3cc75bb9b566749fe095183b8ee88.jpg 25b2ed298f375570b8142723fc6fa22e Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Image Collection—Annapolis Description An account of the resource The Greenfield Library Image Collection houses over 5,000 photographs, postcards, drawings, and other graphic materials. The images in the collection document the history, academic, and community life of St. John’s College. To learn more about the Greenfield Library's archives use policy or to obtain high-resolution images, please see the <a title="Image Collection Use Policy" href="http://www.sjc.edu/academic-programs/libraries/greenfield-library/policies/#photographicarchivepolicy" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Library’s Image Collection Use Policy</a>. Click on <a title="Photographic Archives" href="http://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/items/browse?collection=7">Items in the Image Collection—Annapolis Collection</a> to view and sort all items in the collection. Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available St. John's College Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource St. John's College Greenfield Library Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Annapolis, MD Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context imagecollectionannapolis Still Image A static visual representation. Examples include paintings, drawings, graphic designs, plans and maps. Recommended best practice is to assign the type Text to images of textual materials. Original Format The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data tif Resolution Resolution of the image in dpi. 300 dpi Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Eva Brann, 2004 Description An account of the resource Portrait of Annapolis tutor Eva Brann taken in 2004. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource St. John's College (Annapolis, Md.) Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available St. John's College Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Annapolis, Md. Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 2004 Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource In Copyright <a href="https://rightsstatements.org/page/InC/1.0/?language=en">https://rightsstatements.org/page/InC/1.0/?language=en</a> This Item is protected by copyright and/or related rights. You are free to use this Item in any way that is permitted by the copyright and related rights legislation that applies to your use. For other uses, you need to obtain permission from St. John's College. See the Greenfield Library's <a href="https://libguides.sjc.edu/policies/collection">Archives Policy</a> for more information about rights and permissions. Please make sure to credit St. John's College using the citation provided in this record. Type The nature or genre of the resource still image Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource jpg Subject The topic of the resource Brann, Eva T. H. Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context COM-FAC-BRANN-P-0014b Deans Tutors https://s3.us-east-1.amazonaws.com/sjcdigitalarchives/original/ecaeac5456a2101ba9d47afd1486ee50.mp3 7f66169b9fb2241df458cbab8de793b2 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource St. John's College Lecture Recordings—Santa Fe Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource St. John's College Meem Library Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Santa Fe, NM Sound A resource primarily intended to be heard. Examples include a music playback file format, an audio compact disc, and recorded speech or sounds. Original Format The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data M4A Duration Length of time involved (seconds, minutes, hours, days, class periods, etc.) 00:54:41 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource The Politician as Opthalmologist of the Soul: Aristotle's Conceptions of the Soul and the Aims of Inquiry Description An account of the resource Audio recording of a lecture given by Rory Hanlon on February 7, 2025 as part of the Dean’s Lecture & Concert Series. The Dean’s Office has provided this description of the event: “In Nicomachean Ethics (NE) I.13, Aristotle asserts that a politician should know the human soul as an eye-doctor knows the whole body. I will try to make sense of this odd claim, arguing that it illuminates crucial features of Aristotelian psychology and our understanding of ‘the human’. Given the size of his corpus, it might be not surprising to find some apparent inconsistencies in his employment of the notion ‘the soul’. Perhaps the most infamous concerns its divisibility: In De Anima (DA) III.9, Aristotle criticizes those, like Plato, who divide the soul in terms of rationality; yet in NE I.13, he asserts that the human soul divides into rational and irrational parts. I argue that we should see this apparent contradiction as evidence of his attentiveness to the different kinds of inquiries, and so the different ways in which we think about souls and persons—either in the theoretical mode of DA or the practical mode of NE. In practical inquiries, we are concerned with a claim’s contribution to some relevant practical goal. Hence, the politician seeks knowledge of the soul to the extent that it helps their practical aims (i.e. to improve souls)—much as an ophthalmologist seeks relevant ‘working knowledge’ of the whole body. Finally, I argue that ordinary life, filled with political and ethical deliberations, exhibits this approach to the human, and so is itself a practical inquiry.” Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Hanlon, Rory Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available St. John's College Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Santa Fe, NM Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 2025-02-07 Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource Meem Library has been given permission to make this item available online. Type The nature or genre of the resource sound Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource mp3 Subject The topic of the resource Aristotle. Ethica. Aristotle. De anima. Language A language of the resource English Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context SF_HanlonR_The_Politician_as_Opthalmologist_of_the_Soul_2025-02-07 Friday night lecture https://s3.us-east-1.amazonaws.com/sjcdigitalarchives/original/04c9ce41ee86c2c7d5775fb3d0ffc33f.pdf 93dfb36b7268b4ffad67dd8680678872 PDF Text Text ST JOHN'S College SANTA ~E • ANNAPOLIS 2024 CLASS OF COMMENCEMENT EXERCISES Saturday | May Eighteenth Two Thousand and Twenty-four SANTA FE | NEW MEXICO �For the Fifty-Seventh Commencement of the Santa Fe Campus in the Three Hundred and Twenty-Eighth Year of St. John’s College. �PROGRAM Academic Procession String Quartet Welcome Mr. Mark Roosevelt President, St. John’s College Announcement of Awards and Prizes Ms. Sarah Davis Dean, St. John’s College Mr. Roosevelt St. John’s College Open Chorus Ave Verum Corpus William Byrd Address to the Graduating Class Mr. Mark Roosevelt President, St. John’s College Sicut Cervus Giovanni Pierluigi da Palestrina St. John’s College Open Chorus Conferring of Undergraduate Degrees Ms. Davis Mr. Roosevelt Conferring of Graduate Degrees Mr. Ned Walpin Associate Dean for Graduate Programs, St. John’s College Mr. Roosevelt Closing Remarks Mr. Roosevelt Academic Recession String Quartet Please stand for the academic procession and recession. Graduates will process along the Evans Science Laboratory pathway. Tutors and the platform party will process out of Weigle Hall. JOIN US FOR A LIGHT RECEPTION ON MEEM PLACITA AFTER THE CEREMONY. 1 �2024 BACHELOR OF ARTS Graciela Ann Alvarez Lehman “Fair for the chase!”: The Providence of Spirit in Leo Tolstoy’s War and Peace Eleanor Jo Angelli-Neff Sappho’s Aphrodite San Diego, CA Santa Monica, CA Alexandra Claire Avina Good and Evil Within the Citified World in Herman Melville’s Billy Budd, Sailor Santa Margarita, CA Dihong Bai Chongqing, China Can We Go Beyond the City Walls? An Examination of Shakespeare’s Othello and How He Failed to Become a Venetian Olivia Anne Baze Revenge and Justice in Euripides’ Medea Houston, TX Antonia Elise Bonnaire Weinsberg, Germany A Calculus of Individual Impact, Doing Good by Choosing to Look, Examined in Scenes of War and Peace Emil Borg Virtue and Politics in Livy’s The Early History of Rome Los Altos, CA Minna Rose Brackett Brooklyn, NY “As You Desire You Do”: An Interpretation of The Book of Jonah Calvin Alexander Bright Sellersburg, IN That Knife, Liberty Under Law: An Examination of Freedom, Patriotism and Reclaiming Power in Livy’s Early History of Rome Michael Johannes Brönner On Existential Fanaticism in Hans Jonas’ The Imperative of Responsibility Mainstockheim, Germany Christopher John Campbell Tucson, AZ Sundering & Singularity, Concerning the Death of God & the Collapse of Time, a Mystical Inquiry into Simone Weil & Eternity Jacob Alan Chandler Windows to the Soul: On the Mechanism of Perception and the Requirements for Superlative Love in Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice Annapolis, MD Kiva RedBear Chavez Santa Fe, NM Society’s Outlaws: A Mother and Daughter’s Tale of Liberation and Self-Discovery in Nathaniel Hawthorne’s The Scarlet Letter Taran Sawyer Clammer Poulenc’s Cello Sonata, a Conversation in Music 2 Montpelier, VT �William Kurt Stocker Crombie Coos Bay, OR An Infinite Expectation of the Dawn, Nature, the Human Soul, and Their Convergence at Walden Pond Ian Dean Dapkewicz The Transcendental Conditions of Thought in Difference and Repetition, an Investigation of Gilles Deleuze’s Critique of the Image of Thought Santa Clarita, CA Lila Grace Dean Tragic Affinities – William Wordsworth’s Poetics of Loss in The Two-Part Prelude of 1799 Lakewood, OH Noah Michael Demko It’s the Evil That Men Do: St. Augustine’s Phenomenal Conception of Evil Houston, TX Lillian Leah Dumas Hold Him by the Hand: On Living within Contradiction and Reconciling Suffering with Hope in the Hidden Heart of Genesis Helper, UT Lucy Amelia Edelen Beauty at the Core of Thought: The Aesthetic Philosophy of Immanuel Kant’s Critique of Judgment Tucson, AZ Alexis Christine Finch Understanding the Tree of Life: Darwin’s Articulation of Nature in Process Denton, TX Edward Martin Fleming On the Symbol of A as Punishment, and on Transformation of that A as Salvation Carl Guttmann Number as Relation in Edmund Husserl’s On the Concept of Number: Psychological Analysis Newton, MA Freiburg, Germany Jesse Herb “Not What I Am”: An Analysis of Identity in Shakespeare’s Othello Diana Hidalgo Lessons of the Internal Self: Learning to Feel in William Wordsworth’s The Two-Part Prelude of 1799 Elena Ann Hochheiser Made in Whose Image? Man and God in Spinoza’s Ethics Maebh Hurley To All My Thoughts Their Forms They Blend: A Search for the Substance of Dance in Giselle Zane Kelly-Carmichael Species-Being in Marx and the Human-Environment Relationship 3 Salem, OR Oakley, CA Pittsburgh, PA Austin, TX Corrales, NM �Michal Grace Kennell Everything Ended and Everything Ends: Margarita and the Spring Ball in Mikhail Bulgakov’s The Master and Margarita Red Wassmuth Kingsbury The Passion of the Moment: Learning in Kierkegaard’s Philosophical Fragments Kara, Togo Evergreen, CO Ryan Andrew Kohl Tracing the Invisible Labyrinth: How Conflicting Perspectives Affect Interpretation in The Garden of Forking Paths by Jorge Luis Borges Warrensburg, MO Barbara Jordan Joy Leppala Doubling, Prudence, and Daring in Sophocles’ Antigone Albuquerque, NM Conrad Larkin McConnell A Study of Relationships in Italo Calvino’s Invisible Cities Eureka, CA August Michael Attlehed McKenzie Following the Thread: Pain, Pleasure, and Philosophy in the Phaedo Santa Fe, NM Tamblyn Claire Mitchell Kennett Square, PA “Did you suppose, my father, that I could tear myself away and leave you?”, An Exploration into the Role of Fatherhood in Virgil’s The Aeneid Deana Alayne Moss A Life Worth Living, An Exploration of Happiness and Virtue in Plato’s Symposium Portland, OR Zohar Aviv Naaman Santa Barbara, CA “Incomparably beyond and above you all”: An Exploration of Education, Fairytale and Romance in Emily Brontë’s Wuthering Heights Nghia Duc Nguyen Plato’s Republic: What is the foundation of virtues? Hanoi, Vietnam Emily Carmichael Oliphant Action and Irresolution in Shakespeare’s Hamlet Washington, DC Eamon Miguel Padilla Cannibalistically Developed: Trophy-Taking and Parallel Development in Moby Dick Albuquerque, NM John Milliken Parker VI St. Thomas Aquinas on God’s Freedom New Orleans, LA Jonathan Zachary Pevow Cedar Park, TX The Development of Nosology and Death from the Mortuary: A Selective Autopsy of Michel Foucault’s Birth of the Clinic Tay Lara Rafferty Idealism’s Power in Narrow Circumstances 4 Dallas, TX �Elise JaNeal Rockwell The Accessibility of Philosophy: Aristophanes’ Critique within the Clouds Crystal Lake, IL Anäis Magdalena Romero-Heesacker The Education of Natural Consciousness in Hegel’s Phenomenology of Spirit Athens, GA Samuel Lucien Roy Austin, TX Human Destinies: Parallelisms between Psychological Development and Human Cultural Evolution in Nietzsche’s Thought Theodora Ngaio Ruschell The Fleeting Search for Forgiveness in Milton’s Paradise Lost Alexandria, VA Khushi Salgia Death Is Only Behind a Sheer Curtain: The Denial of Our Own Mortality in The Picture of Dorian Gray Sacramento, CA Diego Francisco Salinas Observation and Imitation: Tracing the Development of Tragedy in Aristotle’s On Poetics Bayfield, CO Enzo L Scarpulla Schopenhauer’s Metaphysics of Individuality Woodacre, CA Sarah Josefa Schäfer Suffering for the suffering of the other: the original and ethical structure of subjectivity Virlet, France Aidan Carl Shannon On Land-Use in The Social Contract Shaw Island, WA Eugenia Bergeron Simon The Intellect’s Journey Toward Beatitude Austin, TX Catriona Elizabeth Sixbey How to Live a Life of Love and Happiness through Portraits of Characters in Leo Tolstoy’s War and Peace Hampton, VA Gabriel W Slidders A Jewish Answer: Assimilation and Resistance in Karl Marx’s On the Jewish Question Brooklyn, NY Peter James Sloan Dwelling in Difference as Sameness: Understanding Essence and Technology in Martin Heidegger’s Bremen Lectures Ashland, OR Stephen A Sloniewsky What Is Sky: Living Poetically Through a Vision of the Divine in Tolstoy’s War and Peace Arlington, VA Luke Alexander Spencer Coppell, TX Curios and Spiral Staircases – Jorge Luis Borges’ Library of Babel 5 �Britton Paul Edward Sprouse Rising from the Barbaric Slough, Why the Dialectic of Aristotle’s Topics Is the Capstone of Education Montgomery, LA Amelia Quinn Stock Cummings “I saw him, I blushed”: Desire and Shame in Racine’s Phèdre Margot Elizabeth Tabakin Becoming Good and Sane: Attaining Reality through Fiction in Don Quixote Santa Rosa, CA South Orange, NJ Joanna Patricia Thornhill Chatsworth, CA Homo Amicus: On the Friend in Aristotle’s Nicomachean Ethics Iris Thornton Gonzalez The Feminine Other and Ethical Subjectivity in Totality and Infinity Vy Van Vo Idleness as Technique and Freedom: On the Essays of Montaigne Albuquerque, NM Vũng Tàu, Vietnam Wyatt Jeffrey Matthews Vogelzang Love and War in Chaucer’s The Knight’s Tale Seattle, WA William Kipp Wharton The Sexual Politics of Ellison’s Invisible Man Atlanta, GA Samuel Gustav Tapuahi Wiek* A Strange Old Man: An Exploration of Santiago’s Strangeness in Hemingway’s The Old Man and the Sea Savusavu, Fiji Aidan Thomas Williams Half Moon Bay, CA Price as a Measure of Virtue: Understanding the Psychology of Revenue and Profit in Smith’s The Wealth of Nations Marc Andrew Wissman Tristan’s Transfiguration: Music and Yearning in Wagner’s Tristan and Isolde Hunter Michael Wright Extracting a Stripped Screw: Reconciling Reason and Consciousness in Leo Tolstoy’s War and Peace * Upon satisfactory completion of degree requirements 6 Austin, TX Crested Butte, CO �2024 MASTER OF ARTS IN LIBERAL ARTS SPRING 2024 AND DECEMBER 2023 James Besaw Redmond, WA Hannah Black Santa Fe, NM Anna Cain Tucson, AZ (Dec. 2023) Michael Foote Seward, AK Jason Gritman Santa Fe, NM Lorissa Jackson Anchorage, AK Kelly Kwon Seoul, South Korea Jackson Mauze Seattle, WA Emily Neifert Carlsbad, CA (Dec. 2023) Daniel Nichols Billings, MT (Dec. 2023) Joachim Rhaden Munich, Germany (Dec. 2023) Joseph Frederick Scibbe Macedoniaw, OH Matthew Smith Albuquerque, NM (Dec. 2023) Danielle Stone Santa Fe, NM Daniel Van Orden Prairie du Chien, WI Ryan Wechter El Paso, TX Sofya Yampolsky Chimayo, NM 2024 MASTER OF ARTS IN EASTERN CLASSICS Nicolae Federspiel-Otelea Grass Valley, CA Anina Medvinskaya New York, NY (Dec. 2023) David Metzger Norfolk, VA (Dec. 2023) Isla Prieto Santa Fe, NM Susan Sladek Santa Fe, NM MASTER’S ESSAY Kelly Kwon “The Moral Implications of Henri Bergson's Phenomenology of Time in Creative Evolution” Danielle Stone “Hierarchy and Disciplinary Power in Michel Foucault’s Discipline and Punish: The Birth of the Prison” 7 �AWARDS AND PRIZES To the members of the Senior Class who have written the best senior essays, the Richard D. Weigle Prize: The Feminine Other and Ethical Subjectivity in Class of 2024 Totality and Infinity Iris Thornton-Gonzalez Tristan’s Transfiguration: Music and Yearning in Wagner’s Tristan und Isolde Class of 2024 Marc Andrew Wissman Honorable Mention: On Existential Fanaticism in Hans Jonas’ The Imperative of Responsibility Faculty Award for Sustained Academic Excellence Class of 2024 Michael Brönner Class of 2024 Antonia Bonnaire Michael Brönner Barbara Lepalla Sarah Schäfer For their Freshman annual essay To Comprehend the Sphere Itself: Divine Introspection in Plato’s Timaeus For her Sophomore enabling essay Worshipping Nature through Christian Pilgrimage Honorable Mention: Elihu’s Speech Illumines Maimonides’ Opinion on Providence For her Junior annual essay Construction of the Self in Wordsworth’s Two-Part Prelude of 1799 Class of 2026 Mia West Benjamin Johnson Class of 2025 Madeleine Taylor-Marks Honorable Mention: “Incomparably Greater”: Man and World in Leibniz’s A New System of Nature 8 Class of 2027 Nico Rasmussen Class of 2025 Sanyum Dalal �For her undergraduate seminar and preceptorial essay other than annual The Shape of Life Class of 2024 Antonia Bonnaire Honorable Mention: Why did Akhilleus Stop Being So Angry For her undergraduate tutorial essay The Interior of a Heart Honorable Mention: Mechanism Kills the Soul Class of 2027 Bruni Kushnir Class of 2024 Antonia Bonnaire Class of 2027 Jackson Calhoun For their solution to the Set Freshman-Sophomore Level Mathematical Problem For his Solution to the Set Junior-Senior Level Mathematical Problem Class of 2027 Nico Rasmussen Class of 2024 Marc Andrew Wissman For their original music compositions Piano Suite Death of Sisyphus Honorable Mention: Rain on Monte Sol Class of 2024 William Crombie For their best original poetry Odin Doubts Class of 2024 William Crombie Class of 2026 Clara Johnson GILA Kelly Kwon 9 �For her Greek translation, the William A. Darkey Translation Prize (Sappho “Fragment 1”) Class of 2026 Madeleine Finnegan Honorable Mention: Class of 2024 Eleanor Angelli-Neff Class of 2025 Emma Malinasky For their French translation, the William A. Darkey Translation Prize (Baudelaire “Le Vieux Saltimbanque”) Class of 2027 Nico Rasmussen To a student from the Freshman, Sophomore, or Junior class in recognition of originality of thought, the Philip Lecuyer Endowed Scholarship: Class of 2025 Antonio Fox To deserving students to help with the continuation of work at St. John’s College through the cultivation of the liberal arts of Thinking—that is, aiming for and acquiring knowledge; and of Friendship— that is, sharing inquiry and thought joyfully and for its own sake, the Robert Neidorf Memorial Scholarship Class of 2025 Cassi Maverick Class of 2026 Seohyeon Shin To members of the Freshman, Sophomore, or Junior classes in recognition of academic achievement and constructive service to the college community, the St. John’s Community Scholarship provided by faculty, staff and students Class of 2025 Bersa Debebe Class of 2026 Elliot Burchett Mary Claire Fagan Natalie Michaels 10 �To members of the Senior Class for excellence in public speaking, the Senator Millard E. Tydings Memorial Prize Class of 2024 Lila Dean The Don Cook Student Leadership Award Class of 2024 Lillian Dumas To members of the Senior Class who have excelled in service to the college, the Dean’s Award for College Service Class of 2024 Elena Hochheiser August McKenzie Diego Salinas To the students who have most contributed to the academic support of their peers, the Assistant Dean’s Award Class of 2024 Carl Guttmann Class of 2025 Avery Lin Class of 2026 Indira Nadasen-Gladstone To a member of the Senior Class who has demonstrated achievement in the Arts and Literature, the Walter S. Baird Prize: For her short story “Leah Stoval, 2005” Class of 2024 Reese Matthews 11 �STUDENT ENGAGEMENT AWARDS To the senior who, by her consistent modeling of exemplary leadership, spirit, and integrity, has made an outstanding contribution to the St. John’s community, an award offered by the Office of Residential Life: Class of 2024 Tamblyn Mitchell To the senior who, by his leadership, dedication, hard work, and good will, has made an outstanding contribution to the St. John’s campus community, an award offered by the Student Engagement Team: Class of 2024 Aidan Shannon STUDENT ACTIVITY AWARDS To the senior who, by her leadership, enthusiasm, and devotion to the development of the St. John’s Community has made an outstanding contribution to the St. John’s College Intramural Program, an award offered by the Student Activities Organization: Class of 2024 Deana Moss To the seniors who, by their leadership, enthusiasm, and devotion to the development of the St. John’s Community have made outstanding contributions to the St. John’s College Outdoor Program, an award offered by the Student Activities Organization: Class of 2024 Barbara Leppala Marc Andrew Wissman 12 ��STJOHN'S College SA.NU Fli •ANNA.POLIS The seal of St. John’s College shows seven open books representing the seven traditional liberal arts— the trivium of grammar, rhetoric, and logic; and the quadrivium of arithmetic, geometry, astronomy, and music. The balance, or scale, in the center represents modern science. Encircling the symbols is a Latin inscription, which means: “I make free adults out of children by means of books and a balance.” � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Santa Fe Commencement Programs and Addresses Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource St. John's College Meem Library Text A resource consisting primarily of words for reading. Examples include books, letters, dissertations, poems, newspapers, articles, archives of mailing lists. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre Text. Original Format The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data paper Page numeration Number of pages in the original item. 16 pages Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Santa Fe Commencement Program, Spring 2024 Description An account of the resource Program for the fifty-seventh commencement of the Santa Fe campus in the three hundred and twenty-eighth year of St. John's College. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource St. John's College Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available St. John's College Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Santa Fe, NM Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 2024-05-18 Type The nature or genre of the resource text Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource pdf Subject The topic of the resource Commencement (St. John's College, Santa Fe, NM) Language A language of the resource English Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context SF Commencement Program 2024-05-18 Commencement https://s3.us-east-1.amazonaws.com/sjcdigitalarchives/original/f07960a824b0e1de73afed65df16be19.pdf 3d8971d2b035e89edb27ba622beaf2c0 PDF Text Text ST JOHN'S College SANTA ~E • ANNAPOLIS 2023 CLASS OF COMMENCEMENT EXERCISES Saturday | May Twentieth Two Thousand and Twenty-three SANTA FE | NEW MEXICO �For the Fifty-Sixth Commencement of the Santa Fe Campus in the Three Hundred and Twenty-Seventh Year of St. John’s College. �PROGRAM Academic Procession String Quartet Welcome Mr. Mark Roosevelt President, St. John’s College Announcement of Awards and Prizes Mr. J. Walter Sterling Dean, St. John’s College Mr. Roosevelt St. John’s College Small Chorus Chì mi na mòrbheanna John Cameron Address to the Graduating Class Ms. Sarah Davis Tutor and Dean-Elect, St. John’s College, Santa Fe Sicut Cervus Giovanni Pierluigi da Palestrina St. John’s College Small Chorus Conferring of Undergraduate Degrees Mr. Sterling Mr. Roosevelt Conferring of Graduate Degrees Mr. Ned Walpin Associate Dean for Graduate Programs, St. John’s College Mr. Roosevelt Closing Remarks Mr. Roosevelt Academic Recession String Quartet Please stand for the academic procession and recession. Graduates will process along the Evans Science Laboratory pathway. Tutors and the platform party will process out of Weigle Hall. JOIN US FOR A LIGHT RECEPTION ON MEEM PLACITA AFTER THE CEREMONY. 1 �2023 BACHELOR OF ARTS Krobi Akua Ababio-Gyebi * Ofankor, Ghana Nicholas Budwine A Morphology of the Human Spirit in Goethe’s Metamorphosis of Plants Shijie Chen Seeking in Absurdity—Camus’ Philosophy of life in La Peste Tucson, AZ Zhumadian, China Cecil Elliot Connelly On the Road to Find Out: Embracing Life in the Realm of the Dead Through Dante’s Purgatorio Ferndale, MI Maia Tyler Cummings Colorado Springs, CO Diverging Estates: The Displacement of the Aristocratic Roots of Wealth in Austen’s Pride and Prejudice Daniel Adam Davis Augustine’s Development as a Reader Throughout the Confessions Lexington, TN Anh Hoang Van Do Thanh Hoa, Vietnam In the Glimmering Amber of Time Past Lies Our Paradise: The Gradual Coming of the Self in Marcel Proust’s In Search of Lost Time, Book 1: Swann’s Way, Part 1: Combray Henry Bradford Fitzmorris “Removing the Wrappings” an Exploration of Meaning in Anna Karenina West Hills, CA Thomas Wilson Flanigan Herman Melville’s Moby Dick: Ahab as the Technological Man Sara Maria Fors The Voice of the Dead: A Legacy of Death in the Iliad Bryn Aria Frye-Mason Infinite Mirrors: An Exploration of Self in Leibniz’s Monadology William Tiberius Furnish Art, Corruption, and the Fateful Consequence of Creation in The Picture of Dorian Gray 2 Santa Fe, NM Karlskoga, Sweden Albuquerque, NM Wichita, KS �Julia Dannel Hapke Mothers of Morals: The Mind of the Past and the Political Rebirth of Athens in Aeschylus’ The Oresteia Astrid Heinz Existing as a Red-Haired Owl: An Inquiry into the Relationship Between Man and Abstraction in Albert Camus’s The Plague Portland, OR Upper Black Eddy, PA Anne Culver Hodgman “Hurrah for Karamazov!”: An Exploration of Love and Brotherhood Thomas Daniel Hutcherson* Washington DC Elizabethtown, KY Chinazor Ozichi Ike-Njoku The New Order: Recognizing Machiavelli’s Prince as Mankind’s Political Redeemer Abuja, Nigeria Phoebe Katherine Jackson “Whatever walked there, walked alone”: A Study of Absolute Reality as the Ghost Within Shirley Jackson’s The Haunting of Hill House Santa Fe, NM Elsie YeaLim Jang Paul Feyerabend’s Against Method: For the Proliferation of Scientific Thought in the Marketplace of Ideas Shanghai, China Elizabeth Beatrice Jurich Absurdity in Camus’ The Myth of Sisyphus Lincoln, NE Benjamin Blackwell Keyse A View of the Words: Learning to See Faithfully in Flannery O’Connor’s "A View of the Woods" Denver, CO Kashvi Khanna Gurgaon, India A Manual for Those of Us Who Are Not Children of the Sunshine: The Place of Free Will in William James’ Psychology Isabelle Rose Kirschbaum West Hartford, CT Toward Perfection and Decrepitude: Naissance and Perfectibility in Rousseau’s Discourse on the Origin of Inequality MacKenzie Callaghan Krider Satan’s Process of Self-Recognition in Milton’s Paradise Lost Michael Douglas Langer* Reston, VA Ventura, CA 3 �Jun Lee How Can We Reach the True Definition of Something? Essence, Definition, and Teleology in Aristotle’s Metaphysics Changwon, South Korea Bridget Adele Lynch Being Human by Becoming Human: The Perfection of Nature in Jean-Jacque Rousseau’s The Social Contract San Antonio, TX Jane Caroline Maberry Finding Meaning in the Mundane: Discovering Tarrou’s Role in Camus’ La Peste Bakersfield, CA Leah Adair March From Truth to Beauty and Back Again: An Exploration of Einstein’s Imagination in the Theory of Relativity Boise, ID William Isaac MacGillivray Mason If on a winter’s night a traveler: Readers, Writers, and the Infinite Possibilities of Literature Santa Fe, NM Peter Wilcox Brown Mathews Becoming the Person You Are: The Conflict and Concert of the Conscious and Unconscious Minds in Nietzsche’s The Gay Science Richmond, VA John Richard McCombs Nietzsche’s Philosophical Poetry in The Joyful Science Molly Quinn McGrath On a field, sable, the letter A, gules: Beauty and the Puritanical Aesthetic in Hawthorne’s The Scarlet Letter Santa Fe, NM Denver, CO Connor Alexander Aodhán McWeeney Hobbes and the Word Asbury Park, NJ Joseph Donald Megill The Wonderful Creativity of Incomplete Truth: The Story of How Kurt Gödel Proved Logic Beautifully Flawed Rio Rancho, NM Shaheer Naveed Islamabad, Pakistan The Mirror of Our Beloved: Exploring the Self’s Highest Ideal Through Islam in Iqbal’s The Secret of the Self Spencer Oresman The Stakes of God in Man: A Jungian Examination Jonathan Ryan Rascon Tolstoy’s War and Peace: On the Development of Character in Society 4 Los Lunas, NM Albuquerque, NM �Alejandro Diaz Ross Why don’t we tell the Truth? Lies and Justification in Thucydides’ The Peloponnesian War Menlo Park, CA Joseph Robert Scholhamer Will and Necessity: An Exploration of the Life and Death of Andrei Balkonsky Pleasanton, CA Kabita Sen Kathmandu, Nepal The Sailboat, Butterfly, and Dream: Women in Nietzsche’s Beyond Good and Evil and The Gay Science Allison Lynn Sharkey Nature in Flux: An Exploration of the Natural in J. R. R. Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings Galesville, MD Alexandra Cydney Shenson-Collins Mendeleev’s New System: How the Periodic Table Shows Causality Portland, OR Parker Stahl On the Importance of Fighting Against Corrupted Colossi in the Modern Age New Paltz, NY Tim Steinebach Chemnitz, Germany Broken Promises: The Limits and Possibilities of Identity Thinking in Theodor Adorno’s Negative Dialectics Taylor Robert Aidan Strongheart The Art of Madness in Shakespeare’s Hamlet San Francisco, CA Noah Tamas-Parris Journeying to Infinity and Beyond in Galileo’s Two New Sciences Emma Louise Theis A Portrait of Midge: When Art Offends Fantasy in Hitchcock’s Vertigo Brandon Alexander Turner The Nature of Philosophy in Nietzsche’s Beyond Good and Evil S. Aurora Wayne Glimpses of Consciousness: On the Ascension and Regression of the Self in Kierkegaard’s The Sickness unto Death Sydney Mischel Whitten On the Economics of Marriage in Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice 5 Shelburne, VT Denver, CO Las Vegas, NV El Paso, TX Noblesville, IN �John Mason Williams Vision and Ritual in Virgil’s Aeneid Sedgwick, KS Anders Nicolas Wondrick Ought One to Treat Life as an Absurdity: The Consequences of Camus’ Philosophy on the Appraisal of Life’s Worth Twin Falls, ID Jasmine Marie Wright Gilgamesh and Women’s Civilizing Charms Sally Yijia Yang Seeing the Sky: A Reading on Chekhov’s Gusev Victor Zatorski The Concept of the Vorstellungsrepräsentanz in Freud’s “Repression” * Upon satisfactory completion of degree requirements 6 Harrisburg, PA Xi’an, China Hartville, MO �2023 MASTER OF ARTS IN LIBERAL ARTS SPRING 2023 AND DECEMBER 2022 Julia Buys Espanola, NM (Dec. 2022) Jeremey Paul Freestone Everett, WA (Dec. 2022) Mike Sumner Frost Crestone, CO Ruben Juarez Albuquerque, NM Elena Mary Petersen Laguna Beach, CA John Petroff Parker, TX Bryan Anthony Phillips Las Vegas, NV Joseph Francis Shortsleeve New Haven, CT 2023 MASTER OF ARTS IN EASTERN CLASSICS Laura Alexandra Cleveland Nevada City, CA (Dec. 2022) Eli Samuel Sneider Palo Alto, CA Rebekah Morgan Sturgill Wichita, KS MASTER’S ESSAY Elena Mary Petersen Manifesto for the Second Subject: The Image of Thought in Gilles Deleuze’s Difference and Repetition Bryan Anthony Phillips "Big Time Sensuality" On the Origin of Sin and Human Nature as Law 7 �AWARDS AND PRIZES To the member of the Senior Class who has written the best senior essay, the Richard D. Weigle Prize: Nietzsche’s Philosophical Poetry in The Joyful Science Class of 2023 John McCombs Honorable Mentions: A View of the Words: Learning to See Faithfully in Class of 2023 Flannery O’Connor’s "A View of the Woods" Benjamin Keyse A Manual for Those of Us who are not Children of Sunshine: The Place of Free Will in William James’ Psychology Faculty Award for Sustained Academic Excellence For her Freshman annual essay What are the erotic things Socrates Understands?: The Relationship Between Eros (love) and philosophy Honorable Mention: Lucretius and Life-Stirring Venus: The Purpose of the Poetic in The Nature of Things For her Sophomore enabling essay Reason, the Common Good, and Man’s Last End In Aquinas’ Treatise on Law For her Junior annual essay Drawing the Ways to Cognition Honorable Mention: Identity and its Ambiguities in Rousseau’s Social Contract For their undergraduate essays other than annual Is the Reader Guilty of Voyeurism? Class of 2023 Kashvi Khanna Class of 2023 Elsie Jang John McCombs Class of 2026 Yoomin Hong Class of 2026 Romany Stover Class of 2025 Emma Mughal Class of 2024 Antonia Bonnaire Class of 2023 Elsie Jang Class of 2024 Antonia Bonnaire Class of 2024 Michael Brӧnner What is Conserved? 8 �Honorable Mentions: How can a Legal Document Assure a Fictitious Character Class of 2024 of his Reality? The relationship between life and Antonia Bonnaire story for Cervantes’ Don Quixote Class of 2023 Joseph Megill Can Nature Possibly be as Absurd as Atomic Interpretation? For her Graduate Institute Liberal Arts preceptorial essay Trouble in Paradise For his Graduate Institute Liberal Arts Tutorial essay Who is the Great Sailor? GILA Rachel Brown GILA Mike Darmiento For his solution to the set freshman-sophomore level mathematical problem Honorable Mention: Class of 2026 Ben Freedman For his solution to the set junior-senior level mathematical problem Class of 2023 Jun Lee Honorable Mention: Class of 2024 Michael Brӧnner For his original mathematical proof Calculating the Distance Between Earth and Outer Planets in a Simplified Heliocentric Model Class of 2025 Theo McCormick For her original fiction Artifact of the Ursatz’ “Archive of the Ancestral Home, Long Gone” Class of 2024 Reese Matthews For their French translations, the William A. Darkey Translation Prize (Selection from Marcel Proust’s Swann’s Way) Class of 2023 Anh Do Class of 2024 Michael Brӧnner Honorable Mention: Class of 2024 Marc Wissman 9 �To a student from the Freshman, Sophomore, or Junior class in recognition of originality of thought, the Philip Lecuyer Endowed Scholarship: Class of 2024 Antonia Bonnaire To deserving students to help with the continuation of work at St. John’s College through the cultivation of the liberal arts of Thinking—that is, aiming for and acquiring knowledge; and of Friendship— that is, sharing inquiry and thought joyfully and for its own sake, the Robert Neidorf Memorial Scholarship Class of 2024 Alex Finch Sarah Schäfer To members of the Freshman, Sophomore, or Junior classes in recognition of academic achievement and constructive service to the college community, the St. John’s Community Scholarship provided by faculty, staff and students Class of 2024 Lila Dean Elena Hochheiser Tamblyn Mitchell Diego Salinas To members of the Senior Class for excellence in public speaking, the Senator Millard E. Tydings Memorial Prize Class of 2023 Thomas Flanigan Leah March Alejandro Ross The Don Cook Student Leadership Award Class of 2023 Molly McGrath To members of the Senior Class who have excelled in service to the college, the Dean’s Award for College Service Class of 2023 Elizabeth Jurich Jun Lee Joseph Megill Taylor Strongheart 10 �To the students who have most contributed to the academic support of their peers, the Assistant Dean’s Award Class of 2024 Lillian Dumas August McKenzie Class of 2025 Sanyum Dalal Tobias Smit In recognition for her Fulbright English Teaching Assistant Award to teach English in the Czech Republic. Class of 2023 Leah March To a member of the Senior Class who has demonstrated achievement in the Arts and Literature, the Walter S. Baird Prize: For her short story “Breaking” Class of 2023 Chinazor Ike-Njoku To a member of the Senior Class who has demonstrated achievement in Mathematics and Science, the Walter S. Baird Prize: For his essay “How is Gravitating Mass Related to Class of 2023 Inertial Mass?” Jonathon Rascon STUDENT ENGAGEMENT AWARDS To the senior who, by her consistent modeling of exemplary leadership, spirit, and integrity, has made an outstanding contribution to the St. John’s community, an award offered by the Office of Residential Life: Class of 2023 Bridget Lynch To the senior who, by his leadership, dedication, hard work, and good will, has made an outstanding contribution to the St. John’s campus community, an award offered by the Student Engagement Team: Class of 2023 Cecil Connelly 11 �STUDENT ACTIVITY AWARDS To the senior who, by his leadership, enthusiasm, and devotion to the development of the St. John’s Community has made an outstanding contribution to the St. John’s College Bike Program, an award offered by the Student Activities Organization: Class of 2023 Jonathon Rascon To the senior who, by her leadership, enthusiasm, and devotion to the development of the St. John’s Community has made an outstanding contribution to the St. John’s College Outdoor Program, an award offered by the Student Activities Organization: Class of 2023 Allison Sharkey ��STJOHN'S College SA.NU Fli •ANNA.POLIS The seal of St. John’s College shows seven open books representing the seven traditional liberal arts— the trivium of grammar, rhetoric, and logic; and the quadrivium of arithmetic, geometry, astronomy, and music. The balance, or scale, in the center represents modern science. Encircling the symbols is a Latin inscription, which means: “I make free adults out of children by means of books and a balance.” � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Santa Fe Commencement Programs and Addresses Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource St. John's College Meem Library Text A resource consisting primarily of words for reading. Examples include books, letters, dissertations, poems, newspapers, articles, archives of mailing lists. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre Text. Original Format The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data paper Page numeration Number of pages in the original item. 16 pages Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Santa Fe Commencement Program, Spring 2023 Description An account of the resource Program for the fifty-sixth commencement of the Santa Fe campus in the three hundred and twenty-seventh year of St. John's College. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource St. John's College Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available St. John's College Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Santa Fe, NM Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 2023-05-20 Type The nature or genre of the resource text Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource pdf Subject The topic of the resource Commencement (St. John's College, Santa Fe, NM) Language A language of the resource English Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context SF Commencement Program 2023-05-20 Commencement https://s3.us-east-1.amazonaws.com/sjcdigitalarchives/original/1da4f37f3af85ffe54d77fd01943ae1c.pdf 76dfa75faf84d097137df4fab9e32949 PDF Text Text Colloquy SPRING 2024 On Character �Cover art: Achilles 1&2 - Paul Harland-White �Table of Contents 4. Poetry 10. Short Stories & Musings 32. Essays 54. Translations 65. Toasts & Prize Essays 74. Year in Review: Growing & Flourishing �Poetry & Musings Oblivion Sorrow 4 �Contributors Austin Suggs Stacey Rains 5 �Oblivion Austin Suggs I walk down shaded city streets, eyes low To miss the gaze of a man who begs for Just enough to eat, or not feel. Hungry? Or nothing at all. Who am I to judge The one who wishes for oblivion When my gaze betrays I’ve long lived there too? They say the rich and the poor inhabit Different worlds. I think they just enter Through separate doors to find the same bleak Nothingness they sought, or stumbled into Or were forced down. It’s all so hard to say. But soon enough, in life as in their deaths They sink down into the deep, dark, dank ground Having lived life chasing, but never found. 6 �Poet’s Nature Trail - Nadine Bucca 7 �Sorrow Stacey Rains There is a reason that hollow and hallowed echo the same. The word you mean to say is not quirk or coincidence but rather power, providence. Like a hole made ready for planting Like a pestle in mortar preparing the flavor Like a discordance that yearns for the melody Good redounds to good and the painful echo makes space for the necessary silence. Now I can hear “I am here.” 8 �Ripples - Paul Harland-White 9 �Short Stories & Musings Reading TRANSLATIONS Enkidu’s Dwelling Lady Sagredo The Mode of Pi I am. Working? 10 �Contributors Martha Franks Nadine Bucca Cynthia Crane Stephen Borsum Melissa Hicinbothem 11 �Reading Martha Franks It was three o’clock in the morning, and Alison’s mother sighed as she got up to go to Alison’s room. Alison’s father stirred and groaned at being woken untimely on yet another night. Again, again, again. Every night when she should have been sleeping and letting her parents sleep, Alison read books. Every night one of Alison’s parents would come into her room at eleven or so, turn off the light and tell Alison to sleep. Alison would wait for her mother or father to leave, wait an extra few minutes for the coast to be all the way clear, and then turn the light on to read some more. Hours later one of her parents would get up again to turn off the light, hoping that by this time Alison had fallen asleep over her book and would not start the weary round again. Punishment did not help. Alison submitted to whatever her parents imposed as if to a piece of bad luck unconnected to any cause and kept on reading. Once her exasperated parents tried removing the light entirely, but Alison found an answer to that. After waiting for the household to quiet down that night, she got up to curl in a nest behind the orange chair in the living room to read with the crystal glass lamp lowered to the floor. After Alison’s mother had found her asleep behind the chair a few mornings running, the reading light was restored. Her parents decided that it was better to hope that Alison would eventually fall asleep in bed rather than behind the chair. They could see that there would be no surrender in this war. Maybe war was the wrong word, as there was no malice in it. Alison needed to read and night was the time she had to do it in. She had no wish to battle or defeat her parents, it was just that reading was essential. Reading made the world livable. It made the world wide enough to dream of being somewhere else and someone else. The characters in books did not judge her or ask anything of her or shout at each other; they rescued her from the things that were hard about her life. She could ride along on their shoulders and feel with them as if she was experimenting with being them, making their mistakes and being proud of their successes in worlds that she could not have imagined on her own. Both of her parents understood all that, really, having 12 �themselves loved to read as children. The battle among the three of them also united them. On Christmas Alison found in her stocking a book with a French name, Les Miserables. It was fat and long, but it had amazing pictures and the first page drew her in immediately. Her mother, rushing around to arrange for Christmas dinner and celebrations, sighed as she always sighed at her own conflicting feelings about Alison’s reading. She could have used some help with the cooking and table-setting, but her heart was glad when she saw Alison settle into a corner with her new book, the book that Alison’s mother had loved most as a child. Alison did not hear the bustle around her. She was in France, with Jean Valjean, stealing bread for his sister’s children, being sent to be a galley slave as punishment, escaping and on the run from the police, the whole world against him. Then he was brought up short when, after he stole some silver candlesticks from a Bishop, the Bishop forgave him, and told him to keep them. Jean Valjean was paralyzed by this incomprehensible generosity just at the moment when Alison’s father called her for Christmas dinner. She startled, looking up groggily into her suburban American home, nearly paralyzed herself by the contrast with her book. It took a while to remember who she was and what was expected of her. Her imagination began to clear, though, after which it was fun to be with her aunts and her cousins. Alison spent the first part of dinner staring at the silver candlesticks on the table, lighted and glowing for the celebration. She watched the family’s reflections moving and changing in the candlesticks’ polished, elegant contours. No wonder Jean Valjean had tried to steal them— the images in them were beautiful, no matter how hard the life that they reflected. No wonder he had been paralyzed when the Bishop had given them as a gift—it’s a world-changing thing to own something that can make a hard life beautiful, like books. The Bishop’s gift was part of a bargain, Alison suddenly remembered, that Jean Valjean would no longer steal but become a part of society. She shook herself out of her reverie and joined the laughter of her family around the Christmas table. School was out, so Alison could read all the next day. Jean Valjean began the 13 �new life that the Bishop had demanded, disguising himself from the police. He did well for a while until the honesty he had promised to the Bishop forced him to reveal himself and return to his punishment in the galleys. Alison marked her place in the book and closed it in order to think about this dramatic moment of self-revelation. Her mother was cooking and Alison noticed for the first time how tired her mother looked. She put down the book entirely—she wanted to stretch it out and savor it anyway—and set the table for dinner without even being nagged. She was obeying the Bishop’s bargain. That night Alison and her parents slept undisturbed. In the morning Alison went eagerly back to the story to read about Jean Valjean running away from the galleys a second time. Having escaped, he went to find a little girl, the daughter of a woman to whom he had made a promise. The little girl was having a hard time where she was living. She had no books to help her, Alison thought, with pity. Jean Valjean rescued her and became her foster father, finding refuge in the shelter of a convent, in which she grew up. Reading about those thick convent walls with the quiet garden inside, Alison felt the enclosure of the book protecting her, too. Her parents had given her this world for Christmas. There was a lot that Alison did not understand about the rest of the book. It centered around characters who rebelled from their parents and their country and fought for better, freer lives. She felt the power of it but it frightened her, as she was too young to imagine breaking with her own parents, no matter what their conflicts. It was not important, though, that she did not understand. The bargain struck between Jean Valjean and the Bishop held fast whether it was understood or not. On the night that she finished the book she wept over the death of Jean Valjean, reunited with his child at last in a poor, barren room graced and lit only by the flames of the silver candlesticks on the mantle. Her mother found her asleep, the tears on her face, and turned off the light. 14 �Forbidden Fruit - Nadine Bucca 15 �Enkidu’s Dwelling Nadine Bucca After they slew the forest demon, Enkidu and Gilgamesh celebrated their victory with great shouts and cries. They kissed each other. “What great glory we have received,” said Gilgamesh. “Tomorrow we shall cut seven cedars, but for now let us wash in the river and rest.” So, Gilgamesh and Enkidu bathed in the cool clear river at dusk, the sun’s warm colors shining in the waters before disappearing with it behind the horizon. Under the stars, they rested. They found a spot with few roots, a small clearing, and laid their cloaks there. The sky was bright with all its little lights. There were many cedars in the forest, tall and dark, reaching up to the heavens. They found a space between them, settled among them for the night. In Humbaba’s forest, there lived a great many creatures. Owls made their nighttime calls. They could hear a twig break, with a loud snap, as a fox roamed about. It was not quiet like how the rest of the world seemed to still when they first wrestled each other or when Enkidu first laid his hand on Gilgamesh’s heart. Enkidu spoke. “Gilgamesh, my dear friend whose love is better than the love of Inanna, the goddess of love, we have slayed the forest demon. As he fell, so one day we must all fall. Do you fear death?” “I have never known death.” Gilgamesh looked up at the many stars, more than he had seen in the city. The dark sky seemed an endless river, with many small drops of sunlight sparkling on its surface. “Before I was only a thought, a small seed of a being,” he said. “Were you dead?” Enkidu asked. 16 �“Yes, but I was waiting.” “What if you had not become yourself? What if you had become a rock or a tree?” “Then that’s what I would have been.” They listened as another owl called and after, in the stillness that followed, there was the sound of the flowing river. Gilgamesh thought better of his answer. “I do not know if I was dead before or if my mind was merely dormant. But Enkidu you came from clay, from the earth. Aruru shaped you. Were you content when you ate and drank with the gazelles? Were you alive?” “My mind was wild but I was free. The priestess—she clothed me.” “The priestess—she made you human.” Enkidu turned from the stars to gaze at Gilgamesh, to see the dark rounds of his eyes. “No,” he said, taking his hand. “You did.” “I didn’t feed you bread or give you drink. I didn’t pour forth knowledge for you.” “Do you wish you had?” Enkidu whispered. “I’m not jealous of a priestess.” Gilgamesh’s voice held firm. Enkidu turned his gaze back to the stars, back to the slow moving clouds, covering and uncovering the light of the moon. “I am,” he said, at last. “She is wiser than me.” “I wish I’d done those things for you, but you have already gained all the knowledge you need.” 17 �“Yet, I am ignorant,” said Enkidu. Gilgamesh said nothing, but brought his hand to caress his lover’s knuckles, the grooves between his fingers, interlacing them with his own. Gilgamesh and Enkidu slept under the stars, resting in each other’s arms. “Make me more human,” Enkidu said. “Make me more human than I am.” Gilgamesh spoke, “What knowledge can we share together? We may hold each other, and you may kiss me, but what can two men hope to create?” Enkidu replied, “We shall make what it is in our power to make.” “Very well then. You are my companion formed from the earth. I cannot tame you.” The next morning brought a chill over the water, a light fog. They gathered wood for a fire, ate the bread they had. The bread was still soft in the middle. It tasted to Enkidu like sweet grain, and nothing like the grass of the gazelles which now he hardly recalled. “Do you understand,” Enkidu said. “The goddess made me because of the outcry against you—she made me to fight against you, to be your equal. You were a tyrant.” “I know.” “You were the worst tyrant. This pitcher wants water. The city down to its earth wants restitution.” “I’ll make a monument then, build a wall. Maybe I’ll even make it to you,” Gilgamesh laughed and Enkidu followed. “I expect more from someone who is one-third god.” “Two-thirds actually.” 18 “Let me be your other third.” �“Why not half?” “You must be careful, for then I may overtake you. You’re mostly god; I am completely man. I do not wish to be divine, but only as I am. Here, I have collected the seeds of a cedar,” Enkidu said. “Before we build, let’s plant.” Enkidu held out in his palm, the small seed cones. “I wouldn’t take the hand of a lesser man,” replied Gilgamesh. He took the cedar seeds, then Enkidu’s hand, and they embraced. “You have a great many questions and observations Enkidu,” said Gilgamesh. “We will cut down seven trees and build a raft, but first let this earth grow and nourish these little cedar trees to be, you who were born of clay.” Enkidu blessed the earth. For seven days the two friends planted cedars placing each seed in the earth, and covering them, digging with their hands, washing in the stream. Both men found rest in their planting, a sweetness like honey, as strong as fermented grain, as potent as death. And at the end of seven days, Gilgamesh dreamed. He saw the beginning, the separation of deep waters, the making of the gods. The world became dark to Gilgamesh’s eyes. Then Gilgamesh said, “I must run through a tunnel to catch the sun.” And Enkidu responded, “Our days are numbered. Let me be your sun.” As he said this the leaves above him glittered with light. “If only you were my sun,” Gilgamesh said. In that garden, Gilgamesh and Enkidu lived. 19 �Lady Sagredo Cynthia Crane Giovanni Francesco Sagredo (1571 – 1620) was a mathematician and scientist, and a friend of Galileo, who immortalized him as one of the interlocuters in his Dialogue Concerning the Two Chief World Systems. He attempted to solve the problem of measuring longitude with magnetics, and the English physicist William Gilbert called him the “great Magneticall man.” I imagine that like many know-it-all Renaissance men, he might have been diff icult, if charming, to live with. Since he never married, I thought a bit of a romp with a nonexistent wife might serve us all to remember that even in the midst of greatness, we still want wine and chocolate for dessert, and we still want Galileo to talk about the stars. “He’s coming tonight!” “Who’s coming tonight?” “Him!” “Oh . . . him . . . ,” Lady Sagredo said, and laughed at her husband the same way their son would laugh at Cook panicking about nothing. “Stop that,” Sagredo said. His wife said, “Stop what, darling Marito?” “Stop smiling like that.” “You want me to be sour?” “I do,” he said, “I want you to be sour and rushed and hurry about and send Cook to market for f ish and make the evening magnif icent.” “He wrote me last week,” she said. 20 �“Last week?” Sagredo ran his f ingers across his bald head as though his curls were still there. “Hmmm,” she said, remembering his hair. “Last week?” Sagredo repeated. “You didn’t tell me?” “I assumed, darling, I assumed,” she said, pulling him close and interrupting his words with a long kiss. Don’t worry, she explained, the menu is set, we’re having the cheese you like from town, and the peppered olives, as though cheese and peppered olives would put his mind at ease. “And the Asti,” she added. He looked alarmed. “ The Asti? Are you sure?” “Not with dinner,” she explained with some exasperation. He had stopped listening to her and was playing with the lace at her neck. He missed the pretty way the old ruff had framed her face when they f irst met, but he had to admit, the view behind the soft lace was lovely, enticing, suggestive. “Stop, Marito, stop,” she said with a completely different laugh, and pushed his hand away, though not quickly and not with much force. “ The Asti will be perfect,” she reprimanded, “I got chocolate.” “You didn’t.” “I did.” Sagredo stopped himself from asking about the money. “It’s going to rain tonight,” he added. “I know,” she said, “I know everything.” She kissed him again. 21 �“ Therefore, chocolate,” she added. “And Asti.” He wanted to know if that was the dress she was wearing. No, she assured him, she had worn this dress last time they met in Venice, Galileo would remember it, and Maria Celeste would want to hear about something new. Sagredo objected, “but she’s at San Matteo,” meaning the convent where Galileo’s daughter had taken orders. “Precisely,” said his wife. Ms. Sagredo turned to go but the locket at the end of her long necklace was stuck to one of the buttons of her husband’s vest. She pulled it away, though it was more than a little stuck. Sagredo reddened. “It’s magnetic,” she said indignantly. “You told me this was gold.” She held the locket up to him. “I did,” he said, “say that. I did say that it was gold, and it is gold, kind of.” “Plate?” “Not plate, better than that, but yes,” his voice petered out. Making a disgusted sound, she turned away and left for the kitchen, not really angry, but also not ready to let him see her smile. She thought how Galileo would flirt and drink too much Asti and she would be able to get him to talk about the wandering stars and the rugged moon, and then it would be worth all the time and money she’d spent for an evening out of the kitchen and away from her books, dreaming of, well, she wasn’t sure what. 22 �Tea at Laterna - Nadine Bucca 23 �The Mode of Pi Stephen Borsum The air in the courtroom was stifling. So much so that it would choke the sturdiest of lungs, drying the trachea like the deep desert under a hot sun; save for the fact that the entire congregation was holding their breath. No breath, no air to choke on. A fly nipped at my ear, that droning driving the hair on my neck to stand at attention. Perhaps in my ignorance I should have slowed my mind to listen to its secret. But I neglected this opportunity, not recognizing it for what it could have been, for the prosecutor approached the bench, and seven pairs of eyes from the jury, confused, angry, concerned, watched every twitch of my face. “Is it not true, that you are here on trial for the pursuance of fundamental truths of the Universe?” It was a misdirecting question from the prosecutor, delicately crafted, but asked too early to have the impact he clearly intended. “It is true, that is what I’m on trial for.” I reply. The cold, procedural questioning was meant to envelop the emotions surrounding my case. Be they wonder or terror. And to discard that envelope, tossing it into the ever-burning fire of principle and logic. “And you maintain your innocence?” “Clearly.” His wry grin flashed. The chase was on. He turned now to the jury, his audience. “Please, if you’d answer this question for the jury, we might continue, all sharing an understanding of certain facts.” The prosecutor paused. This was a simple trick, one that school children learn when they share stories. The congregation would strain forward, pointing ears towards the forthcoming question. Each moment would raise the tension, increasing the stakes of my answer. No question in the trial until now bore such weight nor may any after, if handled deftly by the prosecutor. “Would you deny,” another pause, delicately placed, precise, “that 24 �your research and subsequent applications thereof, contain the possibility, no... the probability,” a self-correction wielded like a dagger, concealed within the sleeve, “of altering the human soul, perhaps irrevocably?” I did not hear the myriad of reactions from the room, but my heart sensed them. As if the jury and congregation had been shown irrefutable evidence, the murder weapon in my hand moments after using it, the bated breath was released and the heat of the room grew sticky with humidity. As if the capillaries of the lungs saturated the exhalation more deeply with moisture. In fact this was only a baited question. My biting of this lure would open a new line of questioning from which I would be unable to return. To deny such a grandiose suggestion was to deny what my work had yielded, a fate worse than conviction, and death. To assent to this question was to guarantee such a conviction and to never see my work flourish as it could. As it must. My defense attorney caught my eye. His were welling with tears as this was the question we had always prepared for. The undeniable question. And in no retort we had crafted had there ever been a convincing way through. When your attorney becomes an ally, beyond litigator, there must be power in what you’ve done. Even he denied me at first. Suggested that pleading guilty and discontinuing the work would be the only certain path to safety. But now he sees. He knows. Damn safety. “Do you feel I have altered your soul, prosecutor?” The judge spat at me, sharply, without a patience that was never granted in the first place. “You will answer the question in a statement. A dialectical maneuver will not suffice.” The prosecutor smiled a venomous grin. “Yes, your honor.” My turn to pause. To breathe. Perhaps this was my last free heartbeat and I would soak in the moment as if it could be stripped away. The room grew dry again, but I was careful to not let it linger so long as the prosecutor. His pension for showmanship was my only saving grace. “Not just the human soul, but that of the Universal.” It was certainly nonsense to most of the people in attendance. And the prosecutor recoiled. It was this essence of power that had faced the 25 �least ridicule, for it was the least sensical to their ears. But the prosecutor recovered, too quickly for my liking. “There we have it. Admission, and delusions of grandiosity. This, man, ladies and gentlemen here assembled, wishes himself a god!” This drew chuckles, as the prosecutor turned to address the crowd, encouraging their pity and scorn for my contemptuous delusions. “Not wishes. Wills.” I said, partially to myself but with enough volume to my baritone that the ears nearest me keyed in on it. In this moment my mind returned to a series of memories that lay coiled in my conscience. There were first the resonances that established held a sacred balance akin to that of the celestial orbits. Inalterable, it was said they were. Yet a thoughtful nudge might disrupt such balance. Thoughtful, or reckless, I was warned on occasion. But who might undue the orbits of the planets themselves save the hand of God? And was I to supersede him? Or was I an act myself? Flashing forward to two frequencies, one and the other containing a balance of sameness and difference together, threads of unison passing between both that would wax and wane as dissonant undertones built. “It’s beautiful” she said. She had been the most apprehensive, and her skepticism was at first my only source of apprehension. Now her skepticism was not that it couldn’t be done, but what may happen if it worked? The nuclear age ushered in the power for mankind to undo itself, but this? The power to ascend, decay, evolve, dissolve, many possible paths that the frequencies alone would be the arbiter of. The slightest miscalculation meant a causal chain, the results of which could not be anticipated. Why had I pressed forth in the face of such potentialities? “What remains in flux is how this emanates throughout the heavens.” The philosopher asked. And I returned a question that had not come to my mind until this moment. “Is God’s soul that of the cosmos, or something beyond? What is the part and what is the whole?” 26 The smile he turned to me with was one of pensive reflection, apprehension and anticipation mixed in a swirl of emotion. “That is the �question, isn’t it? Would that we could know the wholeness of creation. I fear you may learn the truths as you change them, if the Universe is constructed in one way rather than the other.” And then the final experiment. A tone slowly bending up, the tri-tone filling the resonant chamber, and the overtone singing the voice of heaven. But from which direction would the wave pattern collapse? Inwardly or outwardly, both were possibilities, with drastically different consequences. The overtone peaked as the rising tone angled back down, through the tri-tone, down past unison of the second and third octaves below the overtone, into something new. The undertone, and the ground began to tremble. What my calculations never determined is how long the tone would have to sink and how far the undertone might fluctuate. I had never expected it to take days, even weeks. And then I was arrested. I was out on the street going to buy bread and a bottle of wine to distract myself for an evening because I had nothing to do but wait. And waiting seemed like a prison unto itself. But I had seen the signs, there would be a result that no one could control, and yet would alter everything. It was something that could not be resisted by stopping it, resonant waves expanded. I was shaken from this reflection by realization. The courtroom around me had swelled to an uproar. Cries of heretic, blasphemer, and heathen rang of the walls of this stone room. The prosecutor even reeled for a moment before seeing the opportunity to deal the finishing blow. “You see, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, he confesses! This is no mere tinkerer but one who’d assume you can supplant the will of God!” The judge pounded at his desk with the gavel, crying for an order that he could not wrest from the crowd, not until the prosecutor, now firmly in control of the narrative, raised his hands. “What I cannot be certain of,” he turned to the judge, “your honor, is whether or not the defendant is insane.” I hereby request that the trial be paused until such a time as we’ve had him evaluated both spiritually and psychologically, to allow the jury to fully assess the qualities of the defendant before delivering a verdict.” It was a smart move on his part. It showed a touch of sympathy, whether feigned or not. And it would lend credibility to the sentence the prosecution had originally sought, death by ostracization. A volun- 27 �tary sentence that would cast me out and let me die how I pleased, removed from civilization so as to inflict no further harm upon it. The judge was quick to acquiesce. In mere minutes I was once again chained and thrown into the back of a transport. Feeling the rumble of the road beneath me as it passed the waiting miles to the prison. I can’t feel the rumble of a vehicle any longer without remembering the undertone. And they threw me back into my cramped cell. There I had several books, at this point nearly memorized and only used to pass the time. I felt I had milked all their secrets long ago, and every time I opened them now was just for a hit of nostalgia or to notice some hidden quirk of translation. Plato’s Timaeus, Einstein’s Relativity, The World as Will and Representation, and Marie Shelley’s Frankenstein. It was a short list, but they all offered a kind of creature comfort. Days passed. Then weeks. And I endured a barrage of tests designed for no other purpose than to assure I was as condemnable as it appeared. All the while I had only the ability to wonder about my experiment. The calculations supported a theory that even if they found it, destroyed it, sundered the equipment and stopped the tones, they had already emanated. But how long before I knew some sign of the impact was impossible to tell. Localization of experiment does not correlate to localization of phenomena, and a question the Philosopher once asked me was, “We know the speed of light, and the speed of sound. It remains to be seen if the speed of truth is beholden to such obstacles.” 28 �I am. Working? Melissa Hicinbothem When I considered what it meant “to be” I was unable to discover anything tangible. I could not grasp anything intrinsic to myself that revealed what it was to be. Considered another way “to be” might mean “I am”. Well, the problem emerges, I am, what exactly? How can I know what I am without something external? What condition tells me what I am in any given moment? In this awkward position I began to consider my personal circumstances. Following seven months of unemployment I began a new job. My question took on a new cast. What does it mean “to be” working? What does it mean “to be” not working? Now, I found myself at a convenient demarcation point to consider my inquiry about being. What did it mean to be working when previously I had not? Was my time more engaged? Was I less idle? The short answer is no. My new employment did not mean any greater engagement. It did not mean less idleness. I had a job now, but I spent a large amount of my working hours engaged in nothing purposeful. Certainly nothing urgent. Indeed, for the first time that I can recall, my new employers urged me to “relax” to “take it easy”. What does this mean? It seems to mean that “to be” working involved or required no change internal to me. Nothing inside of me needed to change. So, nothing inside of me changed. Here I was, working again after a long hiatus, and I found no evidence that any change in my state had produced a change internal to me. I was not required to be more purposeful or serious. By the measure of my internal life “I am” working was just as intangible as “I am”. Still, I was at a demarcation point and I knew that some change had taken place. “To be” working was indeed different from not working. If my internal life was unchanged by the demands of employment perhaps, I should look to more external factors. “To be” working meant that my time was no longer unstructured. Any given time of the day could no longer see me anywhere. Even if I had nothing important to do at work I still needed to be there. Did “to be” working mean that I was physically present at times dictated to me by my employer? Was this the absence of idleness? Even though I was doing very little, I was 29 �structuring my presence around someone else’s demands. There was nothing substantially different with me, but I was sharing external conditions with someone else. Another possible answer for what it meant “to be” working was that I was earning money. Admittedly, this might be the best example. Money does seem to be an important distinction between gainful employment and unemployment. I had no sense of vocation integral to me, but as the result of meeting my employer’s conditions I could expect to receive a paycheck. An agreed upon amount of money would be exchanged for my presence at dictated times. Is this what it means “to be” working, the shared understanding of external conditions between my employer and me? If I cannot discover what it means “to be” working independent of any external conditions, have I established a phenomenological account of myself? It seems to be Hegel’s conjecture that the Greeks possessed shared external conditions similar to those between my employer and me. In the case of the Greeks, they had a shared aesthetic sense. A shared understanding of what was beautiful. My employer and I only come together for the expectations of work, and the Greeks lived in separate city-states that were bound only by a shared aesthetic. I know virtually nothing of my employer beyond what it is necessary to meet the shared conditions of work. Yet, we are able to work together because of that shared understanding. Is the unity of Spirit a shared understanding of external conditions? I do not think so. Hegel believes the Greek unity was fragile. That it was undone by Thought. Does this mean that a shared understanding of beauty could not hold the Greeks together in the face intellectualism? If a culture cannot be held together by a set of shared external conditions what is necessary for prolonged survival? If not, what role does intellectualism play in building the unity of spirit? If the Greeks did not have unity of Spirit, were they the first step in a long historical journey to find the unity? 30 Let me assume that the Greeks do not have unity of Spirit. They are indeed missing something. The Greeks see beauty as I see my employment. A set of shared external conditions. Am I missing something too? I have already remarked that upon commencing my new job I felt no internal change. When I perform my duties, I know neither what �I am doing in a meaningful sense, nor why I am doing them. I know I am working, but I do not know why. I suppose I am in the same position I was in when I began this essay. And now I am running out of time to reach a conclusion. Like Hegel’s reading of the Greeks, I have observed phenomena in my life. The phenomena (presence and compensation) occur as the result of my shared understanding with my employer. But, does this shared understanding prove any unity of Spirit in my life? Will I come undone at the emergence of Thought? 31 �Essays A Bug’s Life Kar ña in the Round The Ultimate Desire of Le Misanthrope Intertextuality and the Elixer of Character Is Odette Odile? 32 �Contributors Johnathan Wright Jay Gold Kelly Kwon Gus Kraus Cynthia Crane 33 �A Bug’s Life The Brothers Karamazov’s Dimitri as Fallen Man Johnathan Wright In Dostoevsky’s masterwork, The Brothers Karamazov, it quickly becomes clear to the imagination that the pious, innocent Alyosha is an “angel,” and that the secretive, cold Ivan is a “grave,” but the characterization of Dimitri, the eldest Karamazov brother, requires a subtler analysis. Dostoevsky himself names him a vile insect. Indeed, it is true that Dimitri has many dehumanizing vices; he is, in his own words, “just a brute of an officer who drinks cognac and goes whoring”. Nonetheless, the author’s label of “insect” is not meant to be a revocation of his humanity, but an emphatic affirmation of it. This becomes apparent over the course of several poems which Dimitri recites to Alyosha during their dialogue in Fyodor Pavlovich’s neighbors’ backyard. The first excerpt that Mitya recites is from Schiller’s “Eleusinian Festival;” it narrates Ceres’ coming to earth and finding the world hostile, barren, and desolate due to “man’s universal fall” (pp. 106). With all of his unholy revelry and rampant womanizing, Mitka himself presents 34 the reader with the picture of a man who has been utterly enthralled by his base desires, a true product of the Fall. Nevertheless, he is still a man. By way of Aristotelian example, he is not so controlled by his base desires that he becomes a beast, who does not know and want the good; he is a torn human being who knows what is good, but simply lacks the self-control to bring that good about. Despite his brutishness, Mitenka preserves a strong sense of honor and propriety. Mitya’s heart is tormented by this internal conflict between good and evil: “Let me be cursed, let me be base and vile, but let me also kiss the hem of that garment in which my God is clothed; let me be following the devil at the same time, but still I am also your son, Lord,” (pp.107). Is this not the very struggle which we all, imperfect yet noble as we are, undergo in the silence of our own hearts? As Mitka’s third excerpt, from Schiller’s “To Joy,” asserts, our tendency toward earthly pleasures renders us “insects”— but also makes us human. Dimitri, then, is indeed an insect, but according to Dostoevsky, so are we. Dimitri’s relationship with Katerina reflects such human complexity. It begins because of his ever-present pride and lust; he seeks to blackmail her into intercourse, simply because she spurns him. When the moment �comes, however, something about her character breaks his wicked resolve. Her defiance and strength penetrates past his base sensuality and touches something more noble, something even akin to reverence in his dark heart. It makes him uncomfortable, and for that he even hates her for a moment, with “the kind of hatred that is only a hair’s breadth from love” — it causes him to let her go free. This act of mercy in turn moves her, and for that she falls madly in love with him. Baffled by this unexpected reaction, Dimitri sinks into an acute self- consciousness that wavers between humility and pride. He is keenly aware of his faults, and feels as if he is not worthy to marry someone as noble and virtuous as Katerina. It would be easier to call his insecurity “humility” if he were willing to accept mercy and reform for the sake of love, but even in the face of Katya’s tender forgiveness of his faults and trespasses, he refuses to besmirch her reputation by wedding her, protesting that he cannot change. In this way, Dimitri is more self-destructive than humble; he is too unwilling, too cowardly to turn and face his vices, even if it means the loss not only of Katerina, but ultimately, of his soul. Katerina herself is not without some self-destructive tendencies of her own; her brazen confidence and proactiveness errs on the side of excess, and leads to her allowance of the ruthless Grushenka into her home, a decision which ends in disaster. Though Dimitri is considered “the insect,” his complex character and relationships teach more about the plight of fallen man than either his brother “the angel,” or his brother “the grave.” 35 �Karña in the Round Jay Gold INTRODUCTION E. M. Forster once distinguished between two different kinds of literary characters. Flat characters are simple and two-dimensional, frequently a single quality writ large. Round characters, on the other hand, are complex and harder to characterize briefly. Forster offers Dickens’s Mrs. Micawber as an example of a flat character, and Thackeray’s Becky Sharp as an example of a round one. To this reader, there is no rounder character in the Mahābhārata than Karña. While he is portrayed as a coherent personality, it is difficult to assert anything about his character without qualifying that assertion in important respects. There is no need to demonstrate Karña’s roundness; that will be obvious to every reader. My intention in this paper is to answer the question, What is it about Karña that makes him so obviously round? KARÑA’S CASTE AND FAMILY STATUS ARE EXTREMELY COMPLICATED Karña, while he admits that Kŗşņa has stated the law correctly, rejects this interpretation for himself. For Karña, Kunti’s having abandoned him destroyed any parental claim she 36 might have on him, and the love with which Râdhâ and Adhiratha raised him established such a claim in his eyes. Thus Karña is by history and by inclination the son of a sûta, and by heredity and by law a kṣatriya. But there is another way in which he can be said to be a kşatriya: in his physical capabilities, particularly his ability to withstand pain. After he gives Indra his earrings and accepts from him the Never-failing Spear, Karña flays his entire body, “mov[ing] no muscle in spite of the pain.” That such fortitude demonstrates his kṣatriya-ness may be seen in the following story: Karña had asked to study with Drona, but Drona turned him down, saying he would teach only “[a] brahmin who has correctly performed the right vow” or “a kṣatriya who has performed asceticism.” So Karña betook himself to Râma Jâmadagnya and made the same request, this time purporting to be a brahmin. Some time later a fearsome insect bit Karña, who “stifled the intolerable pain with his fortitude,…not moving in the least.” Râma, when he became aware of this, was angry enough to curse Karña: “No brahmin could endure this extreme pain. Your fortitude could only be a kṣatriya’s.” In other words, Karña’s physical characteristics, as well as his heredity and the law, show him to be a kṣatriya. �I add that frequently in the Mahābhārata we see characters who are the sons of gods, but who also are considered the sons of their mother’s husbands. This is true in particular of Karña’s Pandava brothers. Karña is unique in that there are three male characters who could be said to be his father: the sun, Adhiratha, and Pandu. KARÑA IS COMMITTED TO CARRYING OUT THE OBLIGATIONS TO OTHERS THAT HE HAS TAKEN ON On the face of it, Karña looks utterly principled, committed to truth, to loyalty, and to generosity. Yet at different points he takes actions that arguably violate these commitments. 1. Truth Karña says, speaking to Kṛṣṇa, “[N]either joy nor fear, nor all of earth nor piles of gold can make me a traitor to my word.” This seems to be Karña’s fundamental principle, as it includes his vows involving the loyalty and generosity that also characterize him. This is the principal reason Karña gives Kṛṣṇa for rejecting Kṛṣṇa s directive to assume his position as the eldest Pandava. One would think Kṛṣṇa’s charge would be compelling to Karña for several reasons. Karña would become king, in a ceremony at which Kṛṣṇa himself would officiate. By this act he would bring about peace between the Kauravas and the Pandavas. His acknowledging his place in the Pandava family would be entirely consistent with the law, even more than the path he does take. (He tells his mother Kunti, who urges him to follow Kṛṣṇa’s directive, that he does not “deny that for me the gateway to the Law is to carry out your behest.”) And he would be obeying the instructions of the supreme lord Kṛṣṇa. Yet, he says, his obligations to Râdhâ and Adhiratha and to Duryodhana keep him from doing so. I do not see where Karña actually pronounces a vow of loyalty to Râdhâ and Adiratha; his obligations to them seem to come from love and felt loyalty. To Duryodhana, on the other hand, he does take a vow . Even before he has gotten to know Duryodhana, Karña tells him, “I choose to be friends with you.” And again, when Duyyodhana asks for his eternal friendship, Karña responds, “So it shall be.” Afterwards, his felt loyalty plays a prominent if not a predominant part in his devotion to Duryodhana. Another example of a vow that Karña refuses to break is his gifting to Indra the earrings with which he was born that make him invulnerable in battle. Both Karña and his father the sun say that “all the world knows” his vow to refuse nothing to the brahmins. So when Indra appears to him in the guise of a brahmin, Karña, even knowing it is a god and not a brahmin, grants his request for the earrings. (One might think he does so because 37 �it is a god who asks, but Karña has no problem defying Kṛṣṇa and the sun god.) This despite his knowledge that giving up the earrings will make him vulnerable on the battlefield. He does receive in return the Never-failing Spear, but with the restriction that he can use it only once. So the spear’s protection is rather less reliable than the earrings’. And, as discussed infra, as it turns out he uses the spear on somebody other than Arjuna, whom he had planned to be its target and whom he knew would otherwise kill him. Hence Karña’s keeping of this vow leads directly to his death on the battlefield. Sometimes Karña proclaims his absolute devotion to truth. “I do not fear death as I fear the lie,” he tells Kṛṣṇa. Vaiśampāyana calls him “truthful,” and at one point says, “Karña’s mind did not falter, for he stood fast by the truth.” But Karña is not above employing deception to obtain what he wants. We see this in the story of his apprenticeship to Râma. In order to study with Râma, he lies to him about his origin. In this willingness to deceive when he thinks the ends justify the deception, Karña is no different from Yudhiṣṭhira or Kṛṣṇa, who do the same despite their own reputations for honesty. Furthermore, such devotion to truth as Karña possesses does not include a devotion to transparency. After Kṛṣṇa tells him of his true legal status, he asks that Kṛṣṇa “suppress word of our taking counsel here,” as Yudhiṣṭhira 38 would not accept the kingdom if he knew Karña was his elder brother. While secrecy may not be as great a violation of commitment to truth as deception is, it is some distance from the total honesty that Karña claims to represent. 2. Loyalty Apart from his vows of loyalty, Karña claims that his actions derive from feelings of loyalty based upon how other characters have and have not acted towards him. The loyalty is pronounced in the case of Râdhâ and Adhiratha, Karña’s foster parents. When we first meet Adhiritha, Karña had just “hung his head in shame” when asked about his lineage. But Karña treats Adhiratha with reverence, despite likely knowing that acknowledging this sûta as his father would elicit scorn from such as Bhîma. In explaining to Kṛṣṇa why he will not assume his position as a Pandava, Karña speaks of his adoptive parents’ love for him – Râdhâ breastfeeding him and dealing with his body wastes, Adhiratha’s having his birth rites performed, marrying him to wives with whom he has “sons and grandsons” with whom his heart has bonds of love. “How,” Karña asks, “could a man like me deny [Râdhâ] the ancestral offering?” The obverse of his loyalty to Râdhâ and Adhisthira is his antipathy to his biological mother, Kunti, who, he �tells Kṛṣṇa “cast me out as though I had been stillborn.” Karña speaks of “the irreparable wrong” she has done him, and goes on, “Born a kṣatriya, I have not yet received the respect due a baron. What enemy could have done me greater harm than you have? When there was time to act you did not show me your present compassion. And now you have laid orders on me, the son to whom you denied the sacraments. You never acted in my interest like a mother, and now here you are, enlightening me solely in your own interest.” It might be thought that the fact of parentage would be enough to garner a child’s loyalty. But this is not Karña’s way. His loyalty derives from how he has been treated. This also is true of Karña’s loyalty to Duryodhana. The latter begins their relationship by giving Karña a kingdom so he can fight a duel with Arjuna, and defends him against Bhîma’s taunts. Karña tells Kṛṣṇa. “For thirteen years I have enjoyed unrivaled royal power in Dhṛtarāṣṭra’s lineage by relying on Duryodhana…[who] has raised arms and prepared for war with the Pandavas, because he relies on me,…Therefore he has confidently chosen me to be the main opponent of the Left-handed Archer in a chariot duel in the war.”1 Karña gives all these as reasons not to break his vow to Duryodhana. And when Karña’s father, the sun, tells him to do as Kunti says, Karña responds: “The Dhārtarāṣṭras have let me share in all their comforts and honored me much at all times: how could I, I betray them now? Now that they are embroiled in a feud with the others, they attend to me at all times and honor me as much as the Vasus honor Vāsava? How could I shatter their hopes now, if they think that with my prowess they can engage their enemies? How could I desert them now when they see in me the boat they need to cross over this impassable battle and find the farther shore of this shoreless ocean. Now the hour has struck for all the men who have lived off the Dhārtarāṣṭra, and I have to discharge my duty heedless of my life. Those evil men who, after having been well supported to their heart’s content, pay no heed to what has been done for them and fecklessly undo past benefactions when the time of duty arrives, wicked despoiler of their kings and thieves of their masters’ riceball, gain neither this world nor the next.” It might be countered that Duryodhana is a villain, unworthy of Karña’s loyalty.2 And, indeed, Karña may be accused of being loyal to a fault in the way he treats Draupadi, calling her a whore and a slave wench. He tells Kṛṣṇa that he regrets insulting the Pandavas, a very “round” thing to do. The reason he gives for his behavior is that he wanted to please Duryodhana. 39 �Finally, this section presents an opportunity to raise a question. When Kṛṣṇa issues his directive to Karña, the latter replies, “If I…were to obtain this large, prosperous kingdom, I would hand it over to Duryodhana.” Well, then, why doesn’t he do just that? There would be no war, and his friend would obtain the kingdom he desires. The text provides no explanation. 3. Generosity As we have discussed, Karña gives up his earrings of invulnerability to Indra disguised as a brahmin. He claims he does so because of his vow never to refuse anything to a brahmin, a vow taken on the basis of reverence and generosity. A later incident is if anything an even stronger example of that generosity. It will be recalled that in exchange for the earrings, Indra gave Karña a Never-failing Spear that would unerringly kill anybody, with the proviso that it could be used only once. Karña had planned to use it to kill Arjuna, the one warrior capable of killing him. But at one point during the war with the Pandavas, Bhîma’s demon son Ghaṭotkaca terrorized the Kaurava army: “The Kaurava warriors pleaded with the Suta’s son, “O Karna, kill the Rakshasa soon before he destroys the whole army. Use your Shakti weapon given to you by Indra, the King of Heaven…. Karna decided to use his 40 Shakti weapon. …[He] remembered how…he had exchanged it for his natural golden armor and earrings. It was meant to kill Arjuna. Not finding any other way to save the army from extermination, Karna picked up that dart and readied himself to release it. It could only be used once, and after being released, it would again return to Indra. Karna then released the mighty weapon.…That dart soared through the sky, and… struck Ghaṭotkaca in the chest depriving him of his life… Lord Krishna was joyous on the occasion…. ‘I know that Karna can now be killed, because he no longer has possession of that celestial dart.’” So Karña, out of his generosity and loyalty, and knowing of the consequences to himself, uses his weapon to save the Kaurava army. This exemplifies the reasons that both Dhṛtarāṣṭra and Vaiśampāyana call him “compassionate.” Karña’s use of the Never-failing Spear against Ghaṭotkaca has practical reasons as well: had he not used it, his side would have been defeated, and he never would have had the chance to use the spear against Arjuna. WITH ALL THAT, KARNA’S OVERRIDING MOTIVATION IS HIS DESIRE FOR FAME Karña says on any number of occasions that he hungers for fame even more than for life.3 In turning down the sun’s directive to refuse Indra his earrings, he says, “I shall give him �my earrings…, and my superb armor, lest my fame vanish.” He goes on, “I choose fame on earth, sun, even at the cost of my life.. [T]he famous man attains to heaven, the inglorious man perishes. For in the world fame gives life to a man like a mother, while infamy kills life be the soul alive.” He then cites a verse from “the Placer himself”: “In the world hereafter is fame The highest estate of a man; In this world fame if pure Increases that man’s life.” Karña then says that by giving away his earrings and armor, by offering up his body in war and vanquishing his foes, and by protecting others, he will “win supreme fame in the world….I have vowed to protect my fame with my very life.” Karña brushes off without comment the sun’s advice that “[o]nly the fame of a living man is good….what use is fame to a dead person who has been reduced to ashes?...The fame of a dead mortal is like a garland on a corpse.” could have had.” He goes on, “In killing Arjuna on the battlefield I shall find my reward, or reap fame if the Left-handed Archer kills me.” CONCLUSION I began this paper with the following question: What is it about Karña that makes him such a round character? I have analyzed aspects of his character and his story in order to provide an answer to this question. A characteristic of round characters is that even after they have been discussed at length there is more to be said about them, and there are elements of Karña’s personality – like his self-confidence or his braggadocio – upon which I have not touched here. Like other round characters in literature, Karña combines two seemingly opposed characteristics: he has a complexity we would expect to find in those we encounter in real life, and there is no one else – in life or in literature – quite like him. One of Karña’s reasons for not accepting Kṛṣṇa’s directive is that if he were to avoid combat with Arjuna it would bring disgrace to both of them, and he tells Kunti that he is concerned about “being called a coward” and “what…the baronage [will] call me.” He blames Kunti for having “destroyed the name and fame I 41 �The Ultimate Desire of Le Misanthrope Kelly Kwon What does Alceste ultimately want? It is nothing but commitment that Alceste demands from his friend Philinte and his partner Célimène. He yells at Philinte: “Monbleu! Vous n’êtes pas pou être de mes gens. L’ami du genre humain n’est point du tout mon fait.”. He detests that his friend Philinte is everybody’s friend. Also, he shrieks at Célimène when she opens the door for Basque without hesitation: “Quoi! L’on ne peut jamais vous parler tête à tête? A recevoir le monde on vous voit toujours prête?” He is extremely unhappy about his partner welcoming other people. Célimène grumbles: “Mais de tout l’univers vous devenz jaloux.” Alceste counters: “C’est que tout l’univers est bien reçu de vous.” It is true. Alceste feels jealousy of the whole world. Why? He is both unwilling to and unable to fawn over other people, whereas Philinte and Célimène are capable of acting gregariously. They seem to have a lot of options to choose their friends, but Alceste cannot hang out with people other than these two, who he has carefully selected. And, as such Alceste is such a misanthrope—what makes Philinte and Célimène exceptional enough to qualify for his circle? Are Philinte and Célimène as genuine as Alceste? 42 Definitely not. They do know how to be diplomatic: to flatter, to smile and to conceal. For instance, Philinte is far from being squeamish to butter up Oronte as “La chute en est jolie, amoureuse, admirable!” Célimène is kind to everybody; not only their potential ally, Basque, who will be helpful in the court, but also to her unwanted suitor, Oronte. Furthermore, to her enemy, Arsinoé, Célimène seems soft on her on the surface— even though these two women were delivering malicious messages in a passive-aggressive form. “Si l’on était sage, ces avis mutuels seraient mis en usage.”, Célimène fools her with a gentle tone—this adroitness is impossible for Alceste, who unintentionally provokes Oronte to file a lawsuit against him. Philinte and Célimène are two of the handful of people capable of appreciating the beauty of Alceste’s candidness, and regardless of Alceste’s anti-social character, they adore and trust his straightforwardness. We can see Philinte holding his laughter while Alceste gives an acerbic critique of Oronte’s sonnets. Célimène introduces annoying Arsinoé to Alceste, because she trusts Alceste to be faithful to her. Perhaps she had figured out that Alceste would see Arsinoé’s hypocrisy, and Alceste does point out Arsinoé’s shady intentions, of course. He asks in askance: “Mais, en disant cela, songez-vous, je vous prie, que cette personne est, Madame, votre amie?” He also refuses her flatteries. He begins to disavow �his thoughts so that he can avoid any involvement with Arsinoé, by humbly saying: “Le ciel ne m’a point fait, en me donnant le jour, une âme compatible avec l’air de la Cour.” Nevertheless, it is worth remarking that Alceste acquiesces to the possibility of Arsione’s false accusation: Célimène could be unfaithful to him. Alceste keeps petitioning Célimène not to hang out with other guys.—“Perdez votre proces, Madame, avec constance, et ne menagez point un rival qui m’offense.”, he says; but he begs to declare that Alceste is the one who she chooses: “Mais plus d’amusement, et plus d’incertitude: Il faut vous expliquer nettement la-dessus. (...) Je saurai, de ma part, expliquer ce silence, et me tiendrai pour dit tout le mal que j’en pense.” This distinguishes the simmering jealousy of Alceste. He merely scoffs at Philinte’s flattery—showing just an allergic reaction to Philinte’s false compliments. Although Alceste expresses his strong irritation at Philinte’s excessive philanthropy, he is not as anxious at seeing Célimène’s affection for other men. Perhaps Alceste is afraid of losing her. He asks for exclusivity as her romantic partner, while he does not, or cannot actively do so to his friend, because he is a friend. And thankfully, according to her letter, it turns out that Célimène’s inclination has always been toward Alceste, while she put in a lot of effort to conceal her disgust toward Oronte. She has been faithful, indeed. It is, therefore, shocking that Alceste announces that “Mon coeur a present vous detesté(,)” right after he confirms her faithfulness. He breaks up the relationship with the last word: “Allez, je vous refuse, et ce sensible outrage de vos indignes fers pour jamais me degagé.” How can his abandonment be juxtaposed with her affectionate confession? Isn’t this confirmation what he wanted ? What does he want? First of all, Alceste seems to make a dichotomy between those who value him and those who do not. He despises Oronte’s incapability of accepting his true judgment; He despises the world full of sycophants. Whereas he loves Célimène because she loves him, and we can infer from his contrapositive statement: “Je ne l’aimerais pas, si je ne croyais [être donc aimé d’elle].” Even if his love “ne ferme point mes yeux aux défauts qu’on lui trouve”, it does not hinder him from loving her. Even if he finds a piece of (false) evidence that Célimène loves Oronte, he cannot help loving her, and fails to avenge her by using Eliante. He deplores himself: “O ciel! De mes transports puis-je être ici le maître?” This insinuates that Alceste desperately needs her while Célimène seems to have a variety of options among her suitors. Unfortunately, Célimène frustrates Alceste by being continuously ambiguous. She blames his jealousy and doubt, but she never explains or elu43 �cidates. This can explain why Alceste becomes bizarrely credulous enough to believe Célimène’s affectionate letter is for Oronte. He has been made ill by his doubts, and now he gets a tangible piece of evidence that can validate his cumulative jealousy. He takes an opportunity to vent his rancor. “Moi, je veux me facher.”; He wants to be angry, and he becomes a little bit satisfied, just as we might become happy to figure out the nomenclature of illness long after suffering from its unknown symptoms. Before long, though, he realizes that “C’est [lui-même] qui [il] viens plaindre, et c’est [lui-même] qu’on querelle!”; (and?) Célimène turns out to be innocent. Instead of apologizing, now he pretends to be angry, labeling her reaction a brazen excuse. He tenaciously probes her as to how the expression of the problematic letter could be written without romantic connotations. All he wants is her assurement—to express how much she is devoted to him and how aloof she actually is from other men—but he receives no answer. She is not willing to enter his game. Later on, he tenaciously asks if she will choose him or Oronte. She procrastinates in giving him an answer; instead, it is other people, Acaste and Clitandre, who confess her mind instead. She did not have to hesitate when deciding whom. She just had to speak up and say, ‘I will choose Alceste, and Oronte is not even on my list,’ but she does not—she does not want to hurt Oronte’s feelings. However, to 44 what extent does she take care of Alceste? The longer she weighs those two on the scale,—unnecessarily—the more Alceste turns weary and is made miserable. When he figures out he has won this love competition, instead of rapture, he feels a deep disappointment. He thinks it is meaningless for him to feel anxious due to Célimène’s courtesy, and he is not willing to endure this anymore. “Et s’il faut qu’à mes feux votre flamme réponde, que vous doit importer tout le reste du monde? Vos désirs avec moi ne sontils pas contents?”, he questions. Most of all, when Célimène hesitantly offers him marriage by saying “Si le don de ma main peut contenter vos voeux, je pourrai me résoudre à serre de tels nœuds; Et l’hymen…”, Alceste finally explodes in anger, crying out that he detests her, and he therefore refuses her. He then turns to Eliante, confessing that he finds that she is the only one who he finds sincere. However he acknowledges that he himself is too unworthy of her love, and that he does not fit with marriage by nature. This indicates he is now too traumatized to pursue his desire for commitment. Now he begins to seek freedom instead: “Je vais sortir d’un gouffre où triomphent les vices, et chercher sur la terre un endroit écarté où d’etre homme d’honneur on ait la liberté.” (1808) This is the very moment that he changes the orientation of his aspirations: from commitment to freedom. �London Mer - Nadine Bucca 45 �Intertextuality and The “Elixir” of Character Gus Kraus Through his counsel to Arjuna, Kṛṣṇa weaves together plentiful references to other Sanskrit texts. But in the tenth chapter of the Bhagavadgītā, he uses these allusions to teach yoga to Arjuna, providing him a litany of magnanimous characters - Gods, sages, heroes, astrological bodies, scriptures, syllables and more. Kṛṣṇa does not simply present Arjuna with an array of moral exemplars. He avoids giving a straightforward Plutarchian exposition of heroes that Arjuna ought to emulate in acting according to dharma; the ethical purport of “I am the a among syllables”1 is not immediately apparent. Instead, Kṛṣṇa declares himself the seed (bījaṃ2) of the greatness of each character he lists. In tying the quality of each character to himself, Kṛṣṇa’s ‘who’s who’ of excellence in Sanskrit literature transforms reading - or, in this historical context, “listening” - into a meditative and devotional practice itself. The Gītā’s intertextual warp and weft of characters becomes a meditative focus for the yogic sādhaka. In the middle of their dialogue, after covering numerous philosophical topics and yogic practices, Arjuna asks of Kṛṣṇa, 46 “Pray tell me of all your divine ubiquities (vibhūti), by means of which you permeate these worlds. How may I know you, yogin, in my constant meditations? In what various modes of being may I meditate on you, my lord? Tell me again fully of your yoga and your ubiquity, Janārdana, for I am not sated of listening to your Elixir (‘mṛtam)” Arjuna seeks in these “ubiquities” to relish the amṛtam - the “Elixir” in context, but in the word’s literal meaning, that which is “immortal”4. Kṛṣṇa’s response affirms within each character an undying aspect, of which he is the source. He hears the unsated Arjuna, and graciously pours the sweetest mixture, made from the most resplendent characters of Sanskrit literature. The verses which follow use a formulaic structure, the genitive plural and either written or implied asmi in each metrical foot, ‘among the x, I am y’. The earliest identifications among the vibhūti center on retinues of divine beings, their vehicles and weapons, and mythical beasts. Kṛṣṇa yokes together in himself figures from both Vedic and Purāṇic mythology: “Of the Ādityas I am Viṣṇu, of the celestial lights the shining sun, of the Maruts I am Marīci, to the constellations I am the moon … [o]f the Rudras I am Śaṃkara, the God of Riches I am to Yakṣas and Rākṣasas … of marshals Skanda … I am Vāsuki among the Snakes. I am Ananta among the Serpents (nāgānāṃ), Varuṇa among sea creatures, Aryaman �among the Fathers, Yama among those who tame...Garuḍa among birds.” Kṛṣṇa affirms in himself a diverse cast of divine characters. Many of these references are crucial to the historical development of Vaiṣṇavism, notably the theonym Viṣṇu, meaning “all-pervader”, among the children of Aditi. In the same vein, Ananta (also called Śeṣa) among the Nāgas and Garuḍa among the birds both serve as Vedic ‘vehicles’ (vāhana) of Viṣṇu. Equally noteworthy, however, is how references to Śiva are interwoven with them: Śaṃkara being one of the Rudras (a host of Vedic deities which, in later Śaiva reception, are identified as avatars of Śiva), Vāsuki being depicted as a snake around Śiva’s neck, and Skanda being the offspring of Śiva and Pārvati (the story on which Kālidāsa based his Kumārasaṃbhava). Others still have no direct connection to the post-Vedic bhakti movements. The Yakṣas and Yama do make important appearances in the Kena and Katha Upaniṣad, respectively, while a devatā like Aryaman is largely absent in post-Vedic religious developments. Each of these divine references functions metonymically: they connect Kṛṣṇa through with a larger text or body of texts, including a broad range of Vedic hymns, Purāṇic storylines and bhakti-cults outside of his own. Each of these identified characters then transform into a new, meditative focus for the bhakta. The four sages (Nārada and Kapila, Vyāsa and Kavi Uśanas) Kṛṣṇa assumes are each significant characters in their own right, but in vibhūti tie together three important bodies of Sanskrit literature: the Vedas, the Sāṃkhya philosophical school and the Itihāsa (chiefly, Mahābhārata). The latter of these marks the beginning of increasing self-referential attitude to the Gītā by Kṛṣṇa. Uśanas was a Vedic sage, while Nārada features prominently in the Purāṇas. The founding of the Sāṃkhya school is traditionally attributed to Kapila; with this identification Kṛṣṇa retroactively deepens Arjuna’s choice to become his student by bringing him directly into the Sāṃkhya lineage (returning ad fontem). But most significantly, Kṛṣṇa takes on the traditional authorship of the entire Mahābhārata, within which the Gītā is embedded. Through the character of Vyāsa, Kṛṣṇa speaks obliquely to the audience of the Gītā, declaring himself the source even of this very text. Through the characters of these sages, Kṛṣṇa’s intertextual cosmos expands in a similar metonymic manner as was done with divine identifications. He stitches together Vedic metaphysical speculation, the heroic pursuit of dharma in the Mahābhārata, and the unity of metaphysical and practical discourse in Sāṃkhya-Yoga as having one source for their greatness and a single purport. Kṛṣṇa lists three heroic characters (Prahlāda, Vāsudeva and Arjuna) which deepen the self-referential 47 �commentary on the Gītā and further interlace it in an intertextual matrix. Naming Vāsudeva is the most directly self-reflexive moment in the vibhūti, as it is the specific character of Kṛṣṇa in the Mahābhārata. But by declaring himself to be Arjuna, Kṛṣṇa takes on both personae in this (self-)dialogue. But he displays an important contrast to Arjuna with a third character; Prahlāda’s story, told in full by the sage Nārada in the Bhāgavata Purāṇa as well as the Viṣṇu Purāṇa, shows him to be a character marked by natural and authentic bhakti. Despite an onslaught by his asura father, Hiraṇyakaśipu, he always maintains his devotion to Viṣṇu: put to death by Viṣṇu in the form of the man-lion (Narasimha), Prahlāda became the sovereign of the Daityas”. By interweaving Prahlāda into the vibhūti, Kṛṣṇa allows this Purāṇic tale to foil the Gītā. Arjuna, a reluctant warrior who must turn back to his dharma, contrasts strongly from Prahlāda’s status as an unwavering devotee both by nature and in spite of his nature. But between these juxtaposed heroes within the vibhūti, Kṛṣṇa reaffirms himself as cause. The contrast of Arjuna and Prahlāda highlights Kṛṣṇa’s final conclusions in the chapter, that he is the universal essence behind the qualities which make each hero great. “Prahlāda who was the worshiper of the Exalted Being was preeminent amongst [Hiraṇyakaśipu’s sons] by his virtues. … In dangers and calamities, his mind (always) remained unruffled. He cherished no desire for enjoyments, heard (as obtainable in the next world) or seen (in this world), as he regarded them to be unreal. He had controlled his senses, vital airs (the life-breath), body and intellect. He completely controlled his desires and kept his mind calm and serene. Though he was a demon by birth, he was devoid of demonic characteristics. [He] had a natural love and devotion to the glorious Lord Vāsudeva.” Kṛṣṇa’s vibhūti recount a cosmogonic act on two levels. Firstly, with respect to Arjuna’s world, it equivocates in essence (their “transcending power, luster and might”) the Gods of the Vedas and Purāṇas, Sages of various lineages, heroic characters from the Mahābhārata and elsewhere, syllables, the Gayatri meter, and elements of the human person (mind, consciousness) by including among the vibhūti. He reminds Arjuna to “know that each and every one of [the vibhūti] has its source in a particle of my splendor”; ascribes to himself the causal role of their greatness as their “seed”. Everything which is great is an effect of Kṛṣṇa’s own greatness: “I support this entire universe with but a single portion of mine”. Secondly, it creates an intertextual cosmos across diverse genres, by including within the vibhūti the Vedic Samhitas, the After many attempts to kill his virtuous son, this episode concludes with Viṣṇu taking an incarnate form as Narasimha to vanquish the asura-king: “After his father had been 48 �Upaniṣads, the Purāṇas and Itihāsas, and more. Kṛṣṇa links each of these, through the “splendor” or “Elixir” of their respective metonymic characters, in his own person. and as the support the entire literary universe as such. In this textual universe, Kṛṣṇa details ‘characters’ which are not only literary persons, but also elements of the Sanskrit language. These reveal another layer at which Kṛṣṇa has planted the ‘seed’ of his greatness. He states that “I am the a among syllables”, referring to the Devanagari script, wherein each consonant character in fact represents a syllable with an implied a unless otherwise accented (to indicate other vowels). The ubiquitous a vowel links each character within a word, mirroring on the morphological level what occurs at the narrative level. Not only are the divine, sagely and heroic figures rooted in the Kṛṣṇa, but even the words by which their tales are told are composed of Kṛṣṇa. Kṛṣṇa teaches a meditative, practical approach to literature: recognizing and savoring the greatness of a character - literary, linguistic, or otherwise - as having their source in the supreme being. Each character within the infinite vibhūti becomes a new ‘mode of being’ on which the devotee may meditate. Further, these characters each represent a single point of intersection in a vast cosmos of Sanskrit literature. Kṛṣṇa stresses that through this meditation, the bhakta comes to know him as the seed of each characters’ particular greatness 49 �Is Odette Odile? Ambiguity and Inference in Proust’s Names Cynthia Crane One of the blessings of being a St. Johns student, sticking to the text, is also one of the greatest frustrations. This semester, I read Marcel Proust’s Swann’s Way (1913), which is the first volume of his magnum opus, In Search of Lost Time. While the average reader, or even the devoted reader on an average day, lacks the patience to get through Proust on their own, reading the book in preceptorial has been a joy thick with ambiguity, reflection, revelation, and more ambiguity, the “arbitrary joys” of imagination. Since I found myself languishing in free time at the end of the semester--in other words, frustrated with my preceptorial paper and cramped for time--I decided to distract myself / undertake the foolish, and take Proust to the internet. Following his lead in Part 3 of Swann’s Way, “Place-Names: The Name,” where he freestyles about the meanings of names of places, I started to dig into the names of the characters in the book and do a little freestyling of my own. I do not imagine I have made an exhaustive survey, but I can offer you a quick glance into the thick density of Proust’s language. Many references to French history, particularly military history, appear in the names of characters, evoking an embattled and historical context for this story, so social and psycholog50 ical on the surface. In Part One, “Combray,” we meet Leonie. The name Leonie refers to a lion, a diminutive one. The lion was the symbol of England during the One Hundred Years War between England and France (13371453). A gossip and hypochondriac, Leonie is waited on by her servant, the vigorous and small-minded Francoise. The two, named England and France, engage in increasingly petty unending and unresolvable battles. References to the history of England and France, as well as the class conflict embodied in the Leonie-Francoise relationship, continue as the book goes on. We can add Germany and Türkiye to the mix as well, and throw in some cultural references. Charles Swann, the main character of Part 2, “Swann in Love,” is richly named. • Charles is a common name, but one with royalist connotations. From Charlemagne to Charles X to the Ultraroyalist Prince Charles, Count of Artois, the Charles’s make up a substantial number of the kings of France. Through his friendship with the Prince of Wales, Swann is further associated with European royalty. I am put in mind of the idea that in many ways royalty is more loyal to the people than to the landed aristocracy, with whom it is in many ways in competition. The son of a successful financier, Swann is likewise both accepted and rejected by the aristocracy. Are we to believe he is of a new brand of royalty? �• Swann engages his friend, Charlus (same name), in his efforts to spy on his lover, Odette, while the reader broadly understands that Charlus is having an affair with her. Swann considers Charlus an honest man, perhaps the good doppelgänger to Swann’s evil? Or the reverse? • Swann is a bastardization of the German name Schwann, which means “swan.” We can legitimately make the leap from Swann to swan. When I picture a swan I picture an elegant bird floating on the water, “paddling like hell underneath.” This is the picture of Swann, the psychologically tortured urbane sophisticate, moving smoothly through Parisian social circles while worrying constantly about who Odette is sleeping with when they are apart and whether she is lying to him. • Odette cheats on Swann with another woman while at a picnic in the Bois du Boulogne. Odette and the other woman kiss behind a rock at the Île des Cygnes, the Island of the Swans. There is an Île aux Cygnes in the Seine, but no Île des Cygnes in the Bois. Proust moved an island for his convenience to get the swans where he wanted them. • Swann and Odette’s first sexual encounter happens in his carriage as they kiss over the cattleya orchids she has tucked into the bodice of her dress. I don’t want to carry this too far, but I guess I do . . . the cattleya orchid was first bred in Europe by an Englishman named Cattley. The original flowers were sent to him from Brazil by a man named Swainson. Odette de Crécy, Swann’s lover and the subject of his obsession: • In the German folk tale and the Tchaikovsky ballet Swan Lake (first produced in Moscow, 1877), the virginal white swan is named Odette while the conniving black swan is named Odile. I do not know that Swan Lake was performed in Paris during the decade Proust was active there around the turn of the century. I feel sure he knew the story, through the ballet or the folk tale. According to the tale, the royal Prince Siegfried loves Odette. Siegfried is a German name meaning peace-victory. We will see the name Odette is associated with its opposite, violence and loss in battle, implicating that she is innately bad for Swann. Also in the story Odette is enchanted by the evil sorcerer, Baron von Rothbart—Charles Swann’s supposed friend Charlus is also a baron. • Odette is the diminutive of Otto, a name which in two ways evokes the brutality of French wars in the late 19th century as breech-loaded guns replaced cavalry and muzzle-loaded guns. • In the Crimean War (1853-56), France fought alongside Germany and England against Russia and the Otto-man Empire. France suffered terrible losses during the war. Modern Türkiye was the heart of the Ottoman Empire. It appears again as a place Odette cruises to when she leaves Swann to spend a year away from him with his 51 �former friends, then it reappears in the final unhappy dream sequence which leads to the end of his love affair with Odette, embodied by a young man in a fez. • Otto von Bismarck was the chancellor of Prussia then German emperor who defeated France in the Franco-Prussian War of 1870, ending the hegemony of France in Europe as well as ending monarchic rule in France. Proust was born three months after the war ended. Although the Prussians won and the war led to the unification of Germany, they suffered brutal losses at the hands of the superior contemporary French artillery. • Odette’s last name, deCrécy, is derived from a decisive battle in the One Hundred Years War between England and France. At Crécy, or Cressy in English, the English with their long bows soundly defeated the French (1346), who used the older crossbow. Like the battles above, it was a slaughter. Finally: • Forcheville, one of Odette’s other lovers, bears a name invented by Proust. It appears to be Anglicized from the French, fourche, which means pitchfork, as in a tool of the common farmer, while ville means city. A fork is a fourchette. A snake’s forked tongue is la langue fourche. The verb translated “to have a forked tongue,” in English, means to lie, or to deceive, although the connotation of “having” rather than “speaking with” seems to me to be even more damning of the liar. Here’s 52 a bit of trivia that could only have appeared in this day and age: a Google scan of published works shows the French phrase avoir la langue forchue was basically unused between the middle of the 19th and the middle of the 20th centuries. It did have a small blip of usage between 1908 and 1917, when the book was being written. Forcheville and Odette both lie to Swann about their affair. The connections among these words cannot be systematically rationalized. It is enough to know that Odette’s name elicits historical battles based on technological defeats, and those on more than one front. It is enough to know that questions of France’s place on the European stage concerned Proust, as did the morality of the various classes. I am not educated enough to completely decode the many ways Proust uses the names of the characters in Swann’s Way to tell his story, but I get the gist. Sometimes with Proust that is the most you can hope for. After all, le cygne, swan, in French is pronounced the same as le signe, sign. Is Proust invoking the new study of semiotics? Maybe, maybe not. He is at least embracing the ambiguities of modernity. �Swann - Stuart Kenny & Cynthia Crane 53 �Translation The Steppenwolf - Herman Hesse 54 �Contributor Charles Chapin 55 �The Steppenwolf By Herman Hesse Translation by Charles Chapin I found myself again in a circular hallway, excited by the adventure of the hunt. And everywhere, on countless doors, lured inscriptions: ———————————————————————————————— | “Mutabor” | | Metamorphosis into Random Animals and Plants | ———————————————————————————————— ———————————————————————————————— | | | Kamasutram | Instruction in the Indian Art of Love | Beginners’ Course: 42 Different Techniques | for Sexercise | | ———————————————————————————————— ———————————————————————————————— | Delightful Suicide! | | You’ll Laugh Yourself to Death | ———————————————————————————————— ———————————————————————————————— | Want to Sublimate? | | Wisdom of the East | ———————————————————————————————— ———————————————————————————————— | Oh, to Have a Thousand Tongues! | 56 Only for Men | | �57 �———————————————————————————————— ———————————————————————————————— | Downfall of the Occident | | Discounted Price. Still Unbeatable | ———————————————————————————————— ———————————————————————————————— | | Embodiment of Art | The Transformation of Time into Space | through Music | | ———————————————————————————————— ———————————————————————————————— | The Laughing Tear | | Humor Chamber | ———————————————————————————————— ———————————————————————————————— | Hermit Games | | Full-Fledged Substitute for Any Social Interaction | ———————————————————————————————— The row of inscriptions ran endlessly. One hailed: ———————————————————————————————— | Personality Building Tutorial | Success Guaranteed | | ———————————————————————————————— That seemed attention-worthy to me, and I stepped into the doorway. I was welcomed into a dim, silent space, in which a man sat on the floor without a chair, in the Oriental style, something like to a giant chessboard standing before him. He appeared to me, at first glance, to be my friend Pablo, at least he wore a similarly colorful silk jacket and had the same dark, gleaming eyes. 58 �59 �“Are you Pablo?” I asked. “I am no one,” he said warmly. “Here we carry no names, here we are no persons. I am a chess player. Would you like a personality building lesson?” “Yes, please.” “Then please, kindly provide me with a few dozen of your figurines for teaching material.” “My figurines…?” “The personas, into which you’ve seen your so-called personality disintegrate. Without figurines, I simply cannot play.” He held a mirror up to me, and I saw, again, the unity of my person disintegrated into many selves, many “Me”s, their number seeming to have grown even more than before. But the figures were now very small, about the size of handy chess pieces, and the player took, with silent, sure grips of his fingers, about a dozen of them and placed them next to the chessboard on the floor. Monotonously, he spoke on his subject, like a man repeating a frequently given talk or lecture: “You’re familiar with the flawed and doomed notion that a human should be in permanent unity, a permanent unit. You’re also familiar with a human being made up of a host of souls, of many, many egos. To split the ostensible unity of the person into these many figures, separating them from one other, is regarded as mad, that’s why science invented the name schizophrenia for it. Science is, in this respect, correct, as naturally no multiplicity, no plurality, is tamed without leadership, without a certain order and grouping. Science is wrong, however, in believing that only one unique, binding, lifelong order of the sub-ego, the sub-Me, should be possible. This error of science has some unpleasant consequences, its worth lies merely therein, that the state-sanctioned teacher and educator see their work simplified, and that thinking and experimentation are put aside. Because of that mistake, many incurable nutjobs are validated as “normal” and socially desirable, and conversely, many geniuses are viewed as a mad. We are supplementing science’s patchy doctrine of the soul with a concept we call ‘building’. To those who have experienced the disintegration of their ego, we show that, any time, they can put the pieces back together anew, in any given order, and in doing so, that they can achieve infinite variation in the game of life. Just as the poet, with a handful of figures, makes a drama, so do we build, unceasingly, from the figures of our fragmented ego, new groups, with new games and excitements, with ever newer situations. Behold!” 60 �61 �With quiet, clever fingers, he snatched my figurines, all the aged ones, the youths, the children, the women, all the cheerful and sad, strong and tender, nimble and clumsy figures, and arranged them swiftly on his board for a game, where at once they set themselves up into groups, families, for play and battle, for friendships and enmities, forming a small world. Before my enrapt eyes, he let the bustling yet well-ordered little world move a while, playing and fighting, closing alliances and fighting battles, courting one another, marrying, propagating; it was, in fact, a multi-character, moving and exciting drama. Then he swept over the board with a carefree gesture, overturned all the figurines gently, thrust them into a pile and built, thoughtfully, a selective artist, a completely new game out of the same figurines, with completely different groupings, relationships and interdependencies. The second game was related to the first: it was the same world, the same material, from which he had built it, but the key had changed, the tempo altered, the motifs accented differently, the situations posed differently. And so built the clever builder from forms, of which each was a piece of my self, one game after another, all of them distantly similar, all recognizable as belonging to the same world, obligated to the same origin, yet each completely new. “This is the art of living,” he said didactically. “You yourself may, from now on, continue to set up and invigorate the game of your life at will, to entangle and enrich it, it is in your hands. Just as madness, in a higher sense, is the beginning of all wisdom, so is schizophrenia the beginning of all art, all fantasy. Even the erudite have already half-recognized this, as one may glean, for example, from the “Princes’ Magic Horn”, that enchanting book in which the courageous and industrious labor of a scholar is ennobled through the resourceful collaboration with a number of crazy and institutionalized artists. — Here, place your little figures close to you, the game will spark joy often. The figure who, today, has mushroomed into a forbidding bogeyman and spoils your game, tomorrow you will downgrade to a harmless supporting role. The poor little figure who, for a while, seemed condemned to terrible misfortune and bad luck, in the next game you’ll make a princess. I wish you much pleasure, sir.” I bowed deeply and gratefully before this gifted chess player, placed the figurines in my pocket, and ducked back through the narrow doors. I had actually thought that shortly I would sit on the floor in the corridor, and for hours, an eternity, play with the figurines, but I had barely stood back in the bright, round theater aisle when new currents, stronger than I, pulled me out... 62 �63 �Queen Titania - Nadine Bucca 64 �Toasts To the Tutors (Spring 2024) - Michael Connors To the Tutors (Spring 2024) - William Houston Taylor III To the Tutors (Spring 2023)* - Siobhán Petersen 65 �The Johnnie Conversation Michael Connors - Toast to the Tutors (Spring 2024) The Great Books are often described as containing ‘The Great Conversation’ of Western civilisation. Indeed, it has been said that there may be nothing more Western than the ongoing dialogue of ideas. And there is nothing more Johnnie than having that conversation anytime, anywhere, about anything, and in front of anyone. This is ‘the Johnnie Conversation’. If you haven’t found yourself mid bench press discussing state of nature theories with a fellow Johnnie, or if you haven’t done a deep dive on the relationship between truth and beauty within 3 seconds of bumping into a friend at the shops, or if you have done anything other than talk about the Great Books while you have been at St. John’s, you have missed the point. If Johnnie, then existential analysis at the drop of a hat. This is the Johnnie Conversation. It is true that at St. John’s the conversation really does not stop. Over these past two years, I have had the distinct privilege of experiencing this with all the graduating students. Here are some highlights. Sylvie Bernhardt and I recently carried out a thought experiment involving how a contentious argument between Plato and Aristotle might play out, and its philosophical repercussions. A regular in the GI office on school days, Nick Dacosta and I would discuss every topic we were reading each night, then Kashya would pop out and tell us what Nietzsche would say. At the Ramsay house, Dominic Escorpeso and I shared conversations about the impressive oratory style of Cicero. Before class, Stuart Kenny and I discussed the merits of the Kantian ‘moral imperative’ in the GI office. Living with my good friend Yonas Ketsela at the Ramsay house, meant early breakfast breakdowns in the kitchen about, let’s say, every possible aspect of philosophy. In the GI office Jordan Klein and I discussed Hume’s scepticism. Ben Morgan explained to me that everything is political… even the office MM’s. At the ASG, Luise Parrales and I have discussed the ways in which the texts of the Western Canon are in dialogue, and what makes them great. Quinn Rifkin and I would chat at the pub, at the gym, or at social events like Sunday Supper Club, hosted by our good friend Sarah Ritchie. I would explain to Quinn what I was studying, then Quinn would sum up the entire history of that idea perfectly in 20 seconds. He would tell me about Straussianism… but it was over my head… After class Jack Ryan and I would continue to draw diagrams on the chalkboard, in an attempt to map out Aristotle’s virtue. At mealtimes fellow Aussie Luca Sudjovic and I would discuss every single topic we were studying. And lucky last, who could forget my main man, Houston Taylor? Houston and I achieved 66 �something intellectually noteworthy. We discussed every topic imaginable, while at the same time, managing to relate every single idea to either Plato’s Timaeus, or Chattanooga, Tennessee. In all seriousness, we do owe a debt to Houston for his work in the bookstore. Every time I went there to buy a book, I hoped Houston was there to help me get the right one…and to explain the whole book to me. I’m sure everyone in the GI has had similar Johnnie Conversations with these graduating students, and been enriched by them, as I have. Since beginning my studies at St. John’s, I have spent much time researching the benefits of a liberal education. And I think there is one main takeaway that should ring true for us all, an overarching purpose of a liberal education. This purpose was once articulated perfectly to me, by Mr. Petrich who said, ‘Well Mr. Connors, I think it makes us more human’. I think this is true of my experience, I have certainly connected more with humanity by reading the Great Books. But when I graduate St. John’s, I will also be a bit more human for having known you all, for sharing in the great Johnnie conversations, and from the enriching friendships created in the Graduate Institute. To my fellow graduating Johnnies, it has been a highlight of my life to undertake this education with you. I wish you all the very best for the future, and I know that wherever life takes you, you will continue to enrich the lives of others, as you have done in this community. May your future conversations be as great as those we enjoyed together at St. John’s. Now to some thank-yous. I’d like to take this opportunity to recognise the relationship between the Graduate Institute and The Ramsay Centre back in Australia. The Australians in the GI are all generously sponsored by the Ramsay Centre for Western Civilisation, and without that support we would not be here. On behalf of the Ramsay Scholars, I’d like to acknowledge the Ramsay Centre and thank them for their support. I’d also like to acknowledge our dean Mr. Brendan Boyle, and our former Dean Ms. Emily Langston, who have not only worked hard to strengthen the Ramsay-St. John’s relationship, but who have assisted the whole graduating cohort in many ways over the course of our studies. Ms. Langston and Mr. Boyle, thank you for your ceaseless positivity and enthusiasm for the mission of liberal education at St. John’s, the generosity and guidance you have given each of us individually, and your commitment to fostering a culture of collaboration and friendship in the Graduate Institute. We must also acknowledge Ms. Kashya Boretsky, who works behind the scenes 67 �to make sure the GI runs like clockwork. The level of energy and enthusiasm that Kashya brings to her work, and to discussing the Great Books, is infectious. She is also ninja-level at Johnnie Conversations. Kashya, all the graduating students have benefited from your administrative help throughout our education, and all been touched by your friendship. Thank you. Finally, I’d like to recognise those great stewards of the seminar, our masterful tutors, who have led us through these great ideas, and who make our intellectual journey possible. Tutors, the enrichment, wonder, and joy we have experienced from the Great Books would not have been possible without your guidance and friendship. You have encouraged us to think deeply, to strive for understanding of the great ideas, and to clarify our opinions. On behalf of the graduating students, a toast to the tutors: Thank you for your patience, your wisdom, your good humour, and for your friendship. Thank you for your guidance, for helping us to be more human, and for encouraging our Johnnie Conversations. To the Tutors. 68 �Lead and I Will Follow William Houston Taylor III - Toast to the Tutors (Spring 2024) In Gretel Ehrlich’s book The Solace of Open Spaces, she tells the story of a rancher friend living in Wyoming. He’s an eccentric and recluse. He works as a farm hand while his labor is in season. When it’s not, the man, she says, holes himself up in a little shack on a vast plot of land and plunges himself into total isolation. Ehrlich sentimentalizes this a bit. In one beautiful passage she compares the farm hand to the Zen monk Dōgen. Since she herself moved to Wyoming following the early, sudden, and cancerous death of her fiancé only a few years prior to writing, she is sympathetic to the man’s existential despair because she feels it, too—as all human beings do, from time to time. I love this story because I’ve also been known to be eccentric and reclusive, prone to nutty beliefs, and quick to anger. I once moved all the way not to Wyoming but to Japan—the home of Dōgen himself—looking for the kind of solace that Ehrlich describes as I too am a human being—and I sometimes act like it, from time to time. I moved to St. John’s College two years ago, not ever having been to Annapolis, curious about these great books, but expecting just a little bit of isolation and a little bit of solace. Instead, for two years now, time has stopped. Despite Annapolis’ geography, I’ve found perhaps the most spiritually open and generous place left on the planet. During my first tutorial, while reading Hamlet, Mr. Petrich instructed us to consider in the first scene why Bernardo, who has just entered the scene, should be concerned with identifying Francisco, who is already at the guard post. After all, it would make more sense for the guard on duty to be doing the guarding. But Bernardo is wary of the ghost. This, a perfect example of the power of close reading, opened up the text in a bright, new way for me. It showed that from the first, mundane lines, Shakespeare sets the dark tone of Hamlet. After all, the Danes are at war. The state of war requires constant, acute diligence. There’s no guarantee that anyone will find what just he expects around the next corner. As with the state of war, so with the text. From Hamlet to the Republic, from Chaucer to Rousseau, close reading has prompted text after text to bloom in its significance for me. The entire world of literature, philosophy, science, and politics has become much more open and thereby much more satisfy- 69 �ing, exciting, and sometimes even consoling. But even more significantly, my experience at St. John’s has taught me—and, in particular, Ms. Axelrod has been fond of reminding me—that philosophy need not be a solitary, nasty, brutish, or isolating endeavor. In fact, as I myself have been known to point out, Socratic philosophy seems very much to be about hanging out and killing time with one’s friends. So, we thank you all, our tutors, for modelling this behavior in the noblest way one can. I’d like to thank the tutors I have not yet mentioned. Ms. Benson and Mr. Goldberg, for showing me—like Mr. Petrich—that when one cedes pride of place to the text, that close reading—reading between the lines, so to speak—pays back dividends. I want to thank some others, in particular, for simply putting up with me—especially Mr. Goldsmith, Ms. Paalman, Ms. Silver, and Mr. Crockett—because they’ve taught me that the greatest intellectual rewards are not necessarily to be found waging dubious intellectual battles—being eristic as Socrates calls it in the Meno—but are much more often found when showing up to seminar ready to hang out with one’s friends—to be a bit more dialectic. Even though this is a toast to our tutors, I’d like also to thank my peers—each and everyone of you—for being those very friends, as well as Kashya Boretsky, Ms. Langston, and Mr. Boyle for their work in helping to build a place like the St. John’s College Graduate Institute, where philosophic that very friendship is so carefully fostered. So, without further ado, I propose a toast to our St. John’s tutors; as Glaucon says to Socrates: “Lead, and I will follow.” 70 �In the Doing Siobhán Petersen - Toast to the Tutors (Spring 2023) *Ms. Petersen’s toast was unfortunately omitted from the Spring 2023 issue of Colloquy, our sincerest apologies. One thing I’ve realized is I can only say something of real importance when I speak personally, so if you’ll please indulge me, I’ll just speak for myself here. Insofar as there’s a meaning to life, it seems I’m only going to find it in the doing. Being the sort of kid I was – that is to say, someone who would fall in with the Johnnie crowd – I very early found myself lost in an existential haze. Who am I, what are we doing here? You know, normal kid stuff. I could never shake this feeling that we’re just here. Meaningful answers did not seem forthcoming. I remember this moment last semester, as I’m doing my little pre-class ritual – refilling my water, getting coffee and the like – when I suddenly stop, and I realize I’d found it; this all felt meaningful to me. Getting a glimpse of Capital-M “Meaning” is kinda blink-and-you-miss-it – you go to seminar, you get wrapped up in the next reading; the day to day, moment to moment; constantly bouncing around new and exciting conversations. Yet, that moment; it’s like the clouds breaking, and realizing you’re standing in the sun. Suddenly you realize it’s been a beautiful day for a while now; perhaps it was the whole time. And even if the clouds close back in as you rejoin the hustle, maybe we can keep in mind we know the sun is back there, because we’ve felt its warmth. Meaning, then, isn’t an articulable experience because it’s not an intellectual experience. If that’s indeed the case, it’s a peculiar thing to note, given what it is we do here all day every day Rather it seems meaning comes from a pattern of fulfilling actions. You can’t guarantee it’ll be “for anything,” you don’t know if it really “means anything;” but if feels good now, it feels right now; it’s important, now. And that’s probably easier said than done. But, I’ve found that set of actions through exploring important things with interested people. Sharing in our own canon, but then more importantly our collective library of reflections on them; knowing that I am among like minds who are looking for something, 71 �and who are willing to collaborate to find it. I don’t think a life can’t just be meaningful, but perhaps it can continually become meaningful. Perhaps it must. I can’t promise we’ll arrive at that fulfillment, because there is nowhere to arrive. The spirit, if you like the term, perhaps always wants a project; I can think of no project grander than ardently, bravely trying on every available lens to attempt to glimpse something true. Even when you’re not sure it’s there. Especially when you’re not sure it’s there. In dialogue we all get to try each other’s lenses too; and for that I’m thankful to our learning community. Over time you collect a lot of lenses, and I am certainly not quite ready to let that go. How could you be?But this brings us to the tutors... I have to imagine our tutors are just like us; earnestly searching for something when they join us in seminar. I also have to imagine these kinds of questions only get harder to resolve over time, not easier. Honestly engaging with an idea requires a special kind of uncertainty, accepting that no matter what’s in front of you, you might still have something you need to learn from it. For me, the problem has only compounded the more things I’ve had in front of me - I’ve never felt more uncertain in my life than I do right now. If that’s so, it must take incredible patience to sit at the table and let us struggle through it, to master uncertainty so it doesn’t rob anyone else of theirs. I must then – I’d like to say “conclude,” but I’ll instead say speculate – that the fulfillment I’ve glimpsed must be the source of some repose, and hope for each of them that they’ve found enough of it here, in the doing, with us. That they too have found genuine meaning in this project. Our tutors perpetually display a flexibility of mind, a patience of contribution, and an attentiveness to the unstated, all in service of profound enthusiasm for seeing us perform that pattern of action. I’ve never felt more intellectually lost than right now. But I’ve never felt better equipped than now to wander, either. And so for that, I’ll ask us all to raise a glass to the tutors of St. John’s. Thank you all so sincerely for becoming at the table with us. And, I’d like to particularly thank our outgoing Associate Dean, Ms. Langston, who’s meant so much to the GI and who’s been unfailingly generous with her time, her thoughts, and her mentorship; and to whom I never managed to turn in a tutorial paper that wasn’t the length of a precept. Cheers, to the tutors of St. John’s! 72 �Path Through Reeds - Nadine Bucca 73 �Year in Review By Stephen Borsum �Year in Review: Growing & Flourishing It is with a gentle look back that we all prepare for a bold step forward. And in turning back to see this academic year as a whole, rather than living and experiencing its multitude of parts, we could perhaps venture to pinpoint some small number of the various exceptional moments that have made up this year for the St. John’s College Graduate Institute. First, in recognizing a banner year for the GI’s growth, it’s worth giving thanks to the faculty and staff who work so hard to make the experience enriching for the students, and to build it up to be a sustainable and effective agent of change in the lives of students yet to come. In particular, we pause now to give thanks both to Associate Dean Brendan Boyle, for his tireless efforts of advancing the GI within the community and beyond, and his daily work to ensure the wellbeing of the students and GI community in general—always seen to be of paramount importance; and also Kashya Boretsky, whose behind-the-scenes efforts, to the perception of the student body, keep the GI operating seamlessly—not to mention she is always ready to engage anyone, literally anyone, in a conversation about language or Nietzsche. And now we come to a question about the Graduate Institute, one I think Colloquy can help answer in small part: What are we here for, beyond simply trying to seek, with some clarity, the higher things? Furthermore, if we’ve all digested the proper amount of Aristotelian nutrition: If we are forming bonds of fellowship with others attuned to the same search, are the various friends we make nothing less than true friends? This year we saw the flourishing of community, with Sarah Ritchie’s Sunday Supper Clubs becoming a regular event beloved by many in Annapolis. We immersed ourselves in music, either through trips to the National Symphony in DC, or Mr. Crockett’s music preceptorial. There were the highs of seeing our dear friends graduate, preparing to take yet another momentous step in their lives, and the lows of seeing those same friends leave us to take such a step. We engaged with the question of the soul’s salvation and eternal love with Dante, the beauty of verse with Proust, the structure of the Universe with Galileo, and questioned how best to structure society with Hobbes, Aristotle, and Rousseau. There were also bonds formed by pursuing the Johnnie Project with texts outside the program: like the works of Mishima, or the catalog of Mr. Boyle’s reading group texts. I recognize I have missed many, many moments, big and small, in this note. In a way, that’s the point. As we are constistenly becoming more whole as people, truly capturing every moment of growth in our character is impossible. But the end result, who we have become and are today, is evident. Stephen Borsum - Editor 75 �76 �77 �Thank you to all our contributors 78 Austin Suggs Oblivion Stacey Rains Sorrow Martha Franks Reading Nadine Bucca Enkidu’s Dwelling Cynthia Crane Lady Sagredo Stephen Borsum The Mode of Pi Melissa Hicinbothem I Am. Working? Johnathan Wright A Bug’s Life Jay Gold Karña in the Round Kelly Kwon The Ultimate Desire of Le Misenthrope Gus Kraus Intertextuality and the Elixer of Character Cynthia Crane Is Odette Odile? Charles Chapin The Steppenwolf (Herman Hesse) Michael Connors The Johnnie Conversation William Taylor Lead and I Will Follow Siobhán Petersen In the Doing Nadine Bucca Visual Art Paul Harland-White Visual Art Stuart Kenny Visual Art Cynthia Crane Visual Art �COLLOQUY St. John’s College, 60 College Avenue, Annapolis, Maryland Volume 14: Spring 2024 Editor Stephen Borsum Editorial board: Paul Harland-White, Nadine Bucca, Kyle Reynolds, Cynthia Crane, Sylvie Bernhardt, Stu Williams With thanks to: Kashya Boretsky, Associate Dean Brendan Boyle, and the Graduate Student Council And welcome to the new Editor-in-Chief of Colloquy for the 2024-2025 academic year: Nadine Bucca! ..... Colloquy is a biannual publication of the Graduate Student Council and St. John’s College in Annapolis, Maryland. The journal is free of charge. Address correspondence to Colloquy, The Graduate Institute at St. John’s College, 60 College Avenue, Annapolis, Maryland, 21401. Or email to colloquy@sjc.edu. Students, tutors, and alumni of St. John’s College and the Graduate Institute are encouraged to submit their manuscripts in PDF or Word format by email to colloquy@sjc.edu . The journal also accepts submissions of poetry, original art, and photography. Please include your name, contact information, and the title of your work with your submission. Disclaimer: The views and opinions expressed in the journal do not necessarily reflect those St. John’s College, the Graduate Council, or Colloquy. 79 �80 � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Colloquy Description An account of the resource A student-run journal for the Graduate Institute community of St. John's College in Annapolis, Maryland. The issues feature essays, art, poetry, interviews, and more. Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Annapolis, MD Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource St. John's College Greenfield Library Text A resource consisting primarily of words for reading. Examples include books, letters, dissertations, poems, newspapers, articles, archives of mailing lists. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre Text. Original Format The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data pdf Page numeration Number of pages in the original item. 79 pages Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Colloquy, Spring 2024 Description An account of the resource Volume 14 of Colloquy, published in Spring 2024. The theme of the issue is On Character. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Borsum, Stephen (Editor) Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available St. John's College Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Annapolis, MD Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 2024 Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource St. John's College owns the rights to this publication. Type The nature or genre of the resource text Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource pdf Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived English Subject The topic of the resource St. John's College (Annapolis, Md.)--Periodicals Language A language of the resource English Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context Colloquy_Spring2024 Graduate Institute https://s3.us-east-1.amazonaws.com/sjcdigitalarchives/original/a4a262c069b1dcb36e38d68b7738b392.pdf 46a205e93a354bff8894dbf099e42a66 PDF Text Text Colloquy FALL 2024 On Being �Colloquy is an academic journal and biannual publication of the Graduate Student Council and St. John’s College in Annapolis, Maryland featuring the works of students, tutors, and alumni of the St. John’s Graduate Institute. The journal is free of charge. The views and opinions expressed in the journal do not necessarily reflect those St. John’s College, the Graduate Council, or Colloquy. Printed with Cardo font Cover: Vanity with Two Mirrors - Amelia Taylor Wolfe oil on canvas panel 8x8” �Colloquy Issue 15 Fall 2024 On Being Editor-in-Chief: Bucca Editorial Board: Lola Bondar Stephen Borsum Cynthia Crane Gus Kraus Stafford Wood Assistant Director for Graduate Student Services: Kashya Boretsky Associate Dean for Graduate Programs: Brendan Boyle Colloquy, The Graduate Institute at St. John’s College, 60 College Avenue, Annapolis, Maryland, 21401 colloquy@sjc.edu �Letter from the Editor Dear Graduate Institute Community, This is the third themed issue of Colloquy. Last fall we had ‘on creation’ then ‘on character’ in the spring. For this semester, ‘on being’ was a popular choice with our editorial board, though it was not without its contenders. I was drawn to ‘on wonder’ and ‘on passion’ as well, topics that might inspire students all kinds of beautiful and dramatic pieces. However, I wanted to keep this semester’s theme broad. Almost anything can tie back to the idea of ‘being.’ Within these pages are oil paintings, still-lifes which capture the essence of everyday objects. There’s a meditative quality about them, how one can study a subject and find the lines to represent it, not as it is precisely but through a new created form of representation. It’s the same with the lithographs and prints, but with people as subjects there seem to be many untold stories that might begin to reveal themselves in a single pose or expression. While theme can inspire creators, it can also dissuade them if they don’t see a strong enough connection to their work. Like many things, the proper balance must be found. Theme is worth having because it unites pieces and can encourage readers to find connections between pieces in a way that grants insights, those Aha! moments when these links are discovered. Within these pages, there are essays that address education, the formation of a student and what it means to be human. There are philosophical quandaries exploring the idea of being itself. There are poems which deal with the nature of time, and how it changes us. Throughout the journal, there are numerous inquiries and all on some level related to being. Finally, there is the journal as an image and physical object. There is the balance between the ink on the pages forming words and ideas, and the blank spaces, the non-being. It is in some of these spaces, I’ve found small homes for some of my own sketches and drawings, occasionally inspired by the poetry of the page. For Chaucer’s prologue, I took inspiration from the Ellesmere manuscript. Others are based on the world around me and my own imagination. I hope they, along with the rest of the work here, bring you delight. Sincerely, Bucca �Contents Poetry & Musings Wednesday Morning Meditation the First Gerund is Easier than Noun Old Willow Man I am Part of All That I have Been Orange Sunset & Olive Pits Champion Challenger Achelous The Fox I Wish I Was Obituary Storage 7 8 9 10 11 12 14 16 18 20 22 23 Rachel Brown Aaron Knight Stafford Wood Stephen Borsum Laszlo J. Boesze George Kalandadze Michael Vigil Travis Kyker Travis Kyker Tova Gannana George Kalandadze James Paul Rogers 25 26 28 Cynthia Crane Deana Moss Stephen Borsum Short Stories & Translations Canterbury Tales The House on Fargo Street Being in Lisbon Essays Emile at the Place for Learning 31 Image, Imaginary, and Ignorance of Real Being 45 Root to Rise 51 Charles Edward Chapin Gus Kraus Haley Prickett Interviews & Toasts Meet Tutor, Mr André Barbera 60 Becoming a Reader 62 Like Alyosha 64 What’s a Eureka Moment you had in class? 65 Shirely Quo Charmaine D’Souza Emily Price �Poetry & Musings Dog Patch, 17x21” lithograph - Jesse Wood 6 �Wednesday Morning Rachel Brown A toadstool White as a new-turned leaf Sprang up last night While I was sleeping. This empty space Will always be the hallowed place Where a toadstool Fleeting as a dream Fresh as a stream of sunlight Alighted one morning to Grace for a day The ground below my windowsill That never felt empty before And will ever feel full Of a fragile strength A slim silent speaking presence Raised from darkness into life Overnight An extravagant, lavish Testament to joy Like wine pouring over from Jugs of water Pouring and pooling in Thirsty goblets. A toadstool Iike an inverted goblet Poured out for me Is new and newly baptized Clean by sparkling morning dewdrops into An innocence of grief. ! 7 �Meditation the First Aaron Knight Big D beside the fire—anyone else here from 2024? After all, even more? This more here more there more. Right now nothing really matters, literally anymore. Doesn’t it seem painfully unreal? Like snow? Like a snowball? Just under the ear in front of the pineal gland say? One’s rightful place among bugs and dust and supernovas – Inventories of perception, liquid in the vessel. Celebrating the cosmos. Expand, fit myself inside A grotesquely offensive form – I won’t stand out as much if All continuous or infinitely discrete Horns and graffiti and rain (so much rain), can claim membership too. (I really couldn’t care less – just take the spotlight off me.) So I’m awake? Not so sure about that. Prove it. Bundled up for winter I fear you’ll see a black hole on your starboard, (A compulsion to prevail and monetize is a favorite). Shame and spite more than thought, prove existence, I would say, if asked by a Deceiving God. That my feeling insides, Speechless, and that howling sound we hear in our ears – You told me you heard it too – quieter silence but still loud. (The eternal alarm of intrusion never goes silent?) But whenever I say it never will – Fools rush in and all that, Commands and directives, metaphysics and epistemology And ontological limits of signifiers – Little Daddy Roughbones tonight folks, Straight to bed when the sun goes down – Let me tell you that I never signed up for this here thing – I just know that I woke up at age 4 and realized I wasn’t 3 anymore – Still my most profound insight. 8 �Gerund is Easier than Noun Stafford Wood Speaking is easier than being a speaker Leading is easier than being a leader Fighting is easier than being a fighter Writing is easier than being a writer Teaching is easier than being a teacher Preaching is easier than being a preacher Loving is easier than being a lover Mothering is easier than being a mother 9 �Old Willow Man Stephen Borsum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�I am Part of All That I have Been Laszlo J. Boesze “I am a part of all that I have seen...” Tennyson, “Ulysses” In different carriers, I exist in parts Coiled in a mysterious way That joined grow in a primordial ooze, Take shape and find limbs and senses anew And screaming face the world again: Alive, a whole, and brand-new I That is as old as from whence I sprang. Wanted or not, I have sprung forth, Demand my right to be, And be cared for, Till I can fend alone And have parts of me form a new I. And when I leave Blood-soaked or shriveled up What trace of me do I leave behind? Am I a monumental tomb Remembered better that I Who left my bones in a sea of peat? Did either me an impact make In a world I cannot comprehend? Still, I am a part of all That was, that is, will be, In ways I shall never know. 11 �Orange Sunset & Olive Pits George Kalandadze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�Corrales II, 16x22.5” lithograph - Jesse Wood 13 �Champion Challenger Michael Vigil Work through challenges like any man would. — By crying out to father; Father, forgive me, for I know not what I have done. — Seeking mother’s touch. To Mother; caress my body in Myrrh, once laid to rest. — In a world of devotion, imitation, idolization, instant gratification. Seek a hand of grace, not one of cruelty, seek the place where a babes cry, meets mother’s coo. — Present is a place, void of spirit, a babes cry, rings out; to no echo. To no warm embrace. Dirty, soiled, bad-tempered; mother’s ears are deaf, to this babies falsetto. No hand of grace, no mother’s touch, only torment; only whimpers. — Tears tread down narrow, undulating, swollen eyes; cradled in hollowed bones. Down, down, tapping, dripping, dropping. Drooling onto dirty soiled frame, hollowed by hatred, hallowed by shame. — Tread, tread, tread. Blop, drip, drop, tear, tear, tears. Travel the tunnel of birth. A crap shoot of probabilities. Popped from the space between urine and feces. Plopped upon the crap-table, arrival, unhappy, a-being, unexpected. — Confront the Law, not natural law; the law of averages. To a serpents hiss, affronted by a woman’s whis-per, “you are departing unhappy.” Heel bruised, fork tongue, slithers off, affronted. — Making out, then making off. Flicking classic movie poster post cards, from index finger. Flicking an ear, to disturb a friend. “Dare I disturb the universe?” — Keeping time, not natural time, whistling “Giant steps” like a type of syncopated jazz aves, barreling Geary ave. Gunning for the coast, rebelling, Jim and Buzz, screaming, “let’s see who chicken!” 14 �— The buzz fades, sipping whiskey, from a worn leather, stuffed in the side pocket, tucked next to a Faulkner, novel. Not understanding my worries, limping, strolling Geary ave. — Trimming the top off parking meters, I tread, the sulfur surface, and use the change to tear out pages from newspaper dispensers. Disturbed by the mendacity. Perturbed to trepidation. Tear drops, soak, wear through the pulp, diffusing the ink, exposing the truth. — I tread through life on hot summer pavement, worn down, like a used tire. Rotating round the circumference, axle grease spews out the hubcap like a boxer spitting a tooth. — Racing down Columbus Ave., wailing “a love supreme”, speeding past a statue of St. Francis of Assisi. Touched by stigmata, and a revelation; a truth, I sped through life, heaven seeking, hell bound. — Tires bald, worn down, the psst of a nail wound, puncturing through a thin layer. No more rotations, to a force greater than my own, strewn upon the cold pavement, as my breath hisses into the aether. — Father forgives me, for he knows what I have done. — Crack of polyurethane window pane, under foot, Fanny, a flower, sprung on the sidewalk adjoint the Café Trieste. An on looker, in Illumination (as dew turns to mist) says, “The pane broke so well.” — Mother caress my body in Frankincense, once laid to rest. — Amen 15 �Achelous Travis Kyker The next time, We walked our little way Stumbling up like vagrants Seeking the coals of comfort, Prodding burnished ashes, Listening into the dark And shedding the rags of day. I doubted then, But learned how to cast it away. Eyes, uplifted from afar, Made us fervently glad Unwitting worshipers Beneath a cathedral of stars. But at last, Young and weeping The road tore past our feet. Backwards, rushing wrong, Into a holy defeat, A secret home, a fathom-call; Up to the mouth of the father Whose hungry love makes children of us all. 16 Yoked - Jesse Wood 14.5x10.5 intaglio print with monotype and aquatint The first time we were there, That river. Water going by like silence, like silver, God’s diamonds— Mystery too beautiful to name. All the precious moments Dissolved there Tumbled in dark time, Churning to dust Before our eyes. You took my hand And we knelt with the faith of fools Praying hopelessly. �17 �The Fox Travis Kyker Red fox rampant, eyes aloft— Autumn is good for him. A swath of crimson samite all-encompassed, lost Amid the sea of swirling bronze admits No gaze of lesser beasts Who garrison the land with fearful watch. Look! whisper of life— The careless message races to its lord. Spires of black ears prick up As paws splash down, The dew-drop scatters Patterning a crystal ring about His gallery of shining claws. They sink into the earth to launch A swift assault And hammer to the ground A speeding thunder, secret fire, Racing through sun-spears That dash across his pelt like beams Of luminary shadow. �Is this the fox thou lovest? Yes— His splendor’s course to all men’s hearts doth run. For he is as a law unto himself, The law of will and hunger so endowed That need, for him, and want together Always bleed as one, And rightful prize is always all that simple might beclaims. But here he reads the scroll of nature’s heart— A subtle work which guards its secrets well— And fancies it admissible to deem The plainest and true meaning as the same, As a great king cruel and strong beholds The wonder of his crown And plunges without mercy on his liege. For if war fathers all, and fire Penetrates the very soul of life, The bíos and the bow are truly one, And nature’s song enchants itself Upon a flash of white not long unstained, Descending in a vicious revelation. And now as red flows into red, Behold thy saving truth: The many into one resolved Upon a tangle of dead roots, A new whole self-engulfed emergent Writhing on the forest floor— Becoming is itself undone in this Vermilion ouroboros. 19 �I Wish I Was Tova Gannana F0.!(.*!%.)-!0)/4+!/0.!%'(.*!%.)-!5#)44.4K!F0.!.#.:)/'-!0)4!6)-.!63#64!)*$! 63//'*4!/0)/!Q)(+!*'!'*.!%)*/4!/'!5./!'*K!>4/-'*)3/4!5./!'P!'*!/0.!-&50/!R''-K! F0-..! #)(94! /'! )! -''(+! )! 5''$! 4/)-/K! 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(.*+!%)-(!&*!/0.&-!0'34.4+!%)-(!/0&*=&*5!'1!49-&*5K! 20 �Lady of the Canyon, 11x15” monotype - Jesse Wood 21 �Obituary George Kalandadze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�Storage James Paul Rogers I love the light of southern sunsets as It lathes through the boughs of the red-oak trees, Casting bars of bright and dark on the fields. Such sights will ever mean home to me: the Gentle hills rolling down toward the river Crowned with maple and hickory; local Lanes all swathed in shadow from the forests’ Graceful eaves; quiet river ripples lit At evening from the west while waterbirds Take silent flight, calling softly, toward the East. Though I have seen a thousand thousand Evening skies blushing lovely in the fall, Each one retains the power to enchant, Reminding me to be glad to be, to Live yet one more day where fleeting beauties Lie in wait for those with eyes to find them. 23 �Short Stories & Translations Clay Skull and Wineglass - Amelia Taylor Wolfe oil on canvas panel 9x12” 24 �Canterbury Tales First 18 lines of Geoffrey Chaucer’s General Prologue Cynthia Crane When April with sweet rain has sought Whan that Aprill with his shoures soote And pierced the roots of March’s drought, The droghte of March hath perced to the roote, And bathed every vine in that liquor And bathed every veyne in swich licour That sires by nature every flower, Of which vertu engendred is the flour; When Zephyr with his breath ‘s beguiled Whan Zephirus eek with his sweete breeth On farmer’s land and in heather wild Inspired hath in every holt and heeth First fragile crops, and the young sun The tendre croppes, and the yonge sonne Half through Aries’ course has run Hath in the Ram his half cours yronne, And little birds make melodies, And smale foweles maken melodye, And sleep all night with open eyes — That slepen al the nyght with open ye So Nature pricks up people’s courage (So priketh hem Nature in hir corages), Til they long to go on pilgrimage, Thanne longen folk to goon on pilgrimages, And those who pray seek routes unclear And palmeres for to seken straunge strondes, to distant shrines known far and near; To ferne halwes, kowthe in sondry londes; And especially from every county’s side And specially from every shires ende Of England to Canterbury they ride, Of Engelond to Caunterbury they wende, Seeking the sainted martyr’s way The hooly blisful martir for to seke, That helped when they were sick with plague. That hem hath holpen whan that they were seeke. 5 10 15 �The House on Fargo Street Deana Moss I take a deep breath. I stand under the overgrown tree, facing the long, narrow driveway that feels like a forgotten path stretching into eternity. The gravel crunches underfoot, but the sound is swallowed by the eerie stillness. The air carries a weight, thick and oppressive, pressing down with each step. I sighed, why did we even live here? The house stands hidden, shrouded in the shadow of another, as if deliberately concealing itself from the world. It was the result of necessary downsizing. A rental home that was never meant to be permanent, simply a bridge between what we thought would be our forever home to what ended up becoming my sole inheritance. As I move closer, I see flickers in the periphery of my vision—familiar, yet out of place. There, darting along the driveway, is the ghost of my younger self, her laughter silent but vivid, her bike wheels spinning in an endless loop. A soft smile etched itself across my face. I saved up every penny I had to my name to buy that purple bike with tinsel hanging off the handlebars. The image vanished as quickly as it appeared, leaving behind an ache so sharp it feels real. The house looms ahead, unassuming yet suffused with an unshakable melancholy. Its facade seems to sag under the weight of time, and the windows, dark and opaque, offer no reflection, only void. As I approach, a wave of sadness crashes over me, cold and suffocating, as though the house itself mourns its place in my story. Each step toward the door feels heavier, the pull of the past growing stronger, and I can’t tell if it’s the house or my own heart that’s whispering, Why have you come back? Tears welled in my eyes, as if I was about to sneeze–but the sneeze never came. The house stands like a shadow of its former self, 26 its once light, inviting exterior now cloaked in a somber, weathered brown. The vibrant energy that once filled its halls has faded, replaced by an unsettling quiet. The carpet that once cushioned playful steps is gone, stripped away and replaced by dark, polished hardwood that seems to groan underfoot as if mourning the past. The space where laughter used to echo—my childhood sanctuary of games and imagination—has been transformed into a cold, sterile dining area. The table in the center is tiny compared to the hardwood table that belonged to a young pilot. The walls are devoid of the warmth one would expect to go along with the sentiments that the words on the wall seem to be expressing. The chairs are stiff, their angles too precise, and the air feels heavy, as though joy itself has been exiled from the room. Shadows pool in the corners, stretching longer than they should, as if the house itself resents its transformation. It feels as though the walls are watching, bearing witness to the life that was once here, now stifled by this chilling refinement. This is no longer a home; it is a memory gone hollow. But, as I look around, I remember, this was never my home. This was temporary. This house was a meaningless fling. It was a rental, it was never meant to be permanent–so why do I feel this way? It’s just a house. It’s just a house. It’s just–but why do I feel like this? The corridor leading to the master bedroom stretches ahead, narrow and claustrophobic, its walls pressing inward as though eager to trap me. The air feels thick, stale, as if the house itself is holding its breath. I reach the bedroom, but it is not the room I remember. �This was once a space I reluctantly shared, filled with the chaos of three lives jostling for room. Now, it feels eerily orderly and unfamiliar—its transformation erasing even the faintest echoes of what it once was. The sound of two young girls and their mother sharing a room have now been replaced by the rustle of trees in the backyard, scraping against the window. I turn toward the closet, the one place that had been mine, hoping to feel the solace I felt when I was a child. It was a windowless room. Spacious, even when it was filled with clothes and photo albums. Stepping inside, I am swallowed by its shadows. This was my sanctuary, a haven where I could be unapologetically myself. Here, I had felt invincible, untouchable by the rules and expectations that waited outside the door. I would look through all of my mother’s hidden treasures, this was the place I discovered my mother was the tooth fairy and Santa Clause. As I stand and look up to the high ceiling, the air is heavy, cloying, and the ceiling seems to close in. soot-streaked bricks bearing silent witness to all that was lost here. I collapse to my knees, the weight of the house pressing down as if it is alive, feeding off my despair. My sobs wrack my body, raw and unrelenting, as memories pour out unbidden. The Christmas I refused to help decorate—such a small act of defiance—looms large in my mind, a symbol of everything I pushed away, everything I let slip through my fingers. The sorrow washes over me like a tidal wave, drowning me in its cold embrace. What was once warm and alive has become hollow, corrupted by its own emptiness. It feels as though the house mourns too, though not for me. It mourns the spark of life it smothered until it was gone. Having no other being to consume, it consumed itself. As I kneel before the cold hearth, I feel something behind me. I turned; it was the breeze coming in through the door I left open. A tightness grips my chest, sharp and unyielding, each breath shallow and strained as if the air itself refuses to enter my lungs. My pulse pounds in my ears, louder and faster, drowning out every rational thought. My hands tremble, my palms slick with sweat, and the room feels impossibly small, spinning and tilting like a ship in a storm. My mind screams for escape, but my legs feel leaden, rooted to the floor. Finally, with a desperate lunge, I turn and push the door open. Cool air rushes in, and I stagger out, gasping as if I’ve been underwater for too long. My heart begins to slow, but the ache of the loss remains. I can’t stay in this house a moment longer. The walls seem to close in, each step down the corridor echoing louder, mocking my escape. I run, my breath ragged, my legs trembling as I race through the suffocating space. At last, I stumble into the living room and stop, my eyes drawn to the fireplace. Its 27 �Being in Lisbon Stephen Borsum The city is beautiful, but in some ways more so sleeping than when it’s awake. The port in my glass is sweet but bold, complemented by the slow burn of a rich cigarette. It was a short morning of strolling through a museum of antique arts, remnants of Portugal’s famous discoveries, but really they were just old paintings of Jesus and the martyrs, which the occasional piece of Chinese pottery interjected itself between. I searched the shops for nothing in particular, but seeking 28 something beyond another drink or another cup of espresso. Another drag from the cigarette, another sip of port. To my left is the sprawling mass of building-topped hills and rolling green spaces, colors fade together like an impressionist’s field of wildflowers. All of this is interrupted by the church renovation happening below, where workers in their hard hats operate a crane that occasionally obstructs my view of the city. Towards the river, some gaudy multi-story office build- �ing for a corporation breaks the otherwise inviting skyline, interestingly blocking my view of the massive statue of Jesus. The port finished, I meander through a district that I now realize is only a tourist trap, and isn’t to be taken as the true heart of Lisbon’s artist culture. That’s in the aged stone occasionally covered with graffiti. Or the street performers. Or the hand-placed stone sidewalks with black and white bricks interweaving into various shapes, sometimes purposeful but others chaotic. Perhaps the truest art of the city is the flowers still blooming in late-November, but I won’t ask the locals such a question. I don’t mean to render their city knowable like some blog post. What is least interesting is surface level. Like the Catholic references and churches on nearly every block. So many built on destroyed mosques. The return walk to my destination is all uphill, but thankfully this area of Lisbon is not so steep. Still, I don’t resist stopping by the pastelaria, the bakery across the street for another glass of port and a pastel de nata, when the desire to take a break comes over me. Each time I try the little custard tart I like it more, and even though it’s nearly the noon-hour, I see hungover Lisboans rising for breakfast at the cafes around. With some I can practice just enough Portuguese to not be an asshole, but quickly have to ask if we can switch to English as their own tongue flows so easily through them and immediately becomes ungraspable to my ears. I find myself enjoying this port more than the others, but I’ve only tried the red and for some reason won’t try the white. Ignorance I presume. Still, I finish my glass and strike another cigarette, the brand I found here is dangerously smooth. And continuing my walk I finally find what I was looking for without knowing. A simple shop, where a Japanese man watches YouTube while waiting for tourists to wander in. He’s selling sunglasses, and I desperately need a new pair. I return to the studio where we are planning to enjoy the evening. The proprietor greets me, and we discuss tattoos, his collection of them and my lack of one. We drink what seems to be the only beer people have a preference for in Lisbon, Super Bock, and talk about life in America and the animals in Montana, namely the great many of them that can kill you. The studio opens for the evening and artists suddenly pour in, the space awakens from contemplative to lively, letting bloom an energy in the room that I’ve already spent for the day walking the many streets. And I remember the warm sun and the port and cigarette from earlier in the day. 29 �Essays Precarious - Amelia Taylor Wolfe 12x16” oil on canvas panel 30 �Emile at the Place for Learning Rousseau and Oakeshott in College Campus Duet Charles Edward Chapin I. Orchestration The teenage education of “Emile” described by Jean-Jacque Rousseau in the work’s third book, and the college described in Michael Oakeshott’s “A Place of Learning” present an opportunity for exploring dissonance and harmony in these two approaches to young adult education. Will the Rousseauian mantra, “What good is that for?”1, doom Emile’s journey through the hypothetical halls of Oakeshott College, where faculty and students abjure “the use which may be made of the conclusions of their inquiries?”2 A student has been tutored to reject scholarship. The tutor of his youth, himself an eminent scholar, guided him instead to favor practical applications of his lessons, and to sustain his financial independence as a craftsman. Now eighteen years old and somewhere in twentieth century America, he decides to attend a secluded liberal arts college to pursue deeper meaning in life. How might his childhood tutor’s views interact with the pedagogical design of this campus, where, in favor of intellectually productive leisure, “instrumental arts” are distanced from “liberal learning?” To encourage this dialogue, I make a few choices. First, Emile has a disposition and maturity that matches this hypothetical college. Readers may quibble with this premise, arguing that Rousseau’s Emile would see higher learning as pointless.3 On the other hand, the character has a pensiveness that lends itself to honest inquiry, and perhaps his attraction to liberal arts is inevitable. In any case, let us give him a chance to go to college. Second, the Oakeshott faculty prefer dialectic pedagogy and are oriented toward the individual flourishing of students. Emile’s training in experimentation and self-led discovery will not, therefore, cause conflict in this setting. This choice allows us to focus more exclusively on the concept of utility in education, rather than pedagogical process. Finally, when Emile is faced with conflict between Rousseau and Oakeshott, he chooses a path that prioritizes interaction between them, rather than retreating to one side or the other. II. Melody Oakeshott College stands before him, an isolated, walled campus rimmed by mountains of green and blue. “Adventures in Human Self-Understanding,” (Oakeshott 15) 1 Rousseau, Jean-Jacques. “Emile: or On Education.” Translated by Allan Bloom. New York: Basic Books, 1979. p. 179 2 Oakeshott, Michael. “A Place of Learning.” In What Is History? and Other Essays, edited by Luke O’Sullivan, 1-34. Exeter: Imprint Academic, 2004. p. 22 3 Indeed, our reading focused exclusively on Book III, which takes place between Emile’s 12th th and 15 year. 31 �proclaim the banners on the lampposts. This motto of the college’s founder and namesake is what drew Emile here. He seeks adventure and wants to understand. The nearest town is two miles away through dense woods, and to preserve the intellectual purity of the college environment, students travel only on foot. Two miles through the woods is an easy navigation problem for Emile on a sunny day or a starry night, but he is not here to escape. He is Robinson Crusoe, marooned anew, on an island with uncharted possibilities. Earlier that day, he had sold his craftsman’s tools for pens and paper, then had saved the rest for books. The tutor and friend of his early teens, Mr. Rousseau, had never intended for him to choose this path, or indeed any path that involved so many books. He had been permitted to read, of course, and especially those books that provided inspiration for martialing the resources necessary to find his way in the world (Rousseau 184). But to study humanities at a small, secluded college? It would have seemed foolish to Mr. Rousseau. “It is by their palpable relation to his utility, his security, his preservation, and his well-being,” Mr. Rousseau had once advised, “that he ought to appraise all the bodies of nature and all the works of men. Thus, iron ought to be much more valuable in his eyes than gold, and glass than diamonds” (Rousseau 187). Emile can imagine how the people in the market would roll their eyes at the utility of prioritizing humanities and isolating oneself from the hic et nunc (“Here and now” Oakeshott 10-11), two of Oakeshott’s precepts. As he hears their voices in his mind’s ear, He zips his jacket against the 32 wind and pulls down his simple cap. He wonders now if Mr. Rousseau ever fully understood that he has chosen this path not in spite of his tutor but because of him; Mr. Rousseau’s seeds of worldly, practical knowledge had sprouted into a growing sense that these sorts of books were of greater use than he had previously been told. Emile had become accustomed to allowing objects and information to appear in front of him, without demanding answers from them. Now, at eighteen, his own life had presented itself as one of these objects of curiosity. He had studied it with his characteristic pensiveness and curiosity, but the essence of the thing, the meaning of life, had eluded him. Self-sufficiency and creative instrumentation had begun to seem like virtues, not meaning. They were a way to live a good life, a means to an end. But now, when he asks of life, “What good is that for,” (Rousseau 179) who is he asking? He lacked the instruments to form an answer. The search for these tools is what brings Emile to Oakeshott College. And what an adventure it could be! Mr. Rousseau and Mr. Oakeshott had this attitude in common. Both had described life as a process of exploration that gave depth to one’s existence. Mr. Rousseau may have preferred a more individualistic, hands-on approach and Mr. Oakeshott a more Socratic, theoretical one, but surely there is room at the Oakeshott seminar table for a student who likes to work with his hands? Besides, Emile’s love of testing things fit in well with the study of natural science, which was respected at Oakeshott. He under- �stands that too much science is frowned upon at the college, but Mr. Rousseau had shared this view: “Not to teach him the sciences but to give him the taste for loving them,” (Rousseau 172) he had prescribed. There was an apparent danger in going too far into one field and losing sight of the big picture. Even if Mr. Rousseau had made that argument based on utility, it was rooted in a respect for balance between natural science and other concepts. Oakeshott College would do the same. In fact, the Oakeshott curriculum prohibited students from concentrating their studies in natural science.4 Incidentally, Oakeshott College also prohibited students from being employed and being distracted by “the instrumental arts,” (Oakeshott 13) as marketable skills were called. Emile has an affinity for his craft, but he is willing to take a break from it to pursue life’s deeper meaning. Sacrificing his craft is not a rejection of his Rousseauian values but rather an embrace of them; he is making a trade. Mr. Rousseau might have argued that it was not worth what he was paying, since “it is by money that goods of various kinds become commensurable and can be compared,” (Rousseau 190) and since his time at Oakeshott would not produce more money. But Emile had decided that money was just a representation of value, and that understanding how to live a meaningful life simply had a higher personal value than practicing his trade for four years. Besides, study was a kind of work, and he knew how to find love in his work by doing it well and letting it speak for itself. He feels sometimes like two people: an aspiring philosopher, and an aspiring master craftsman. This is by his tutor’s design: “In all that he will see, in all that he will do, he will want to know everything; he will want to learn the reason for everything. From instrument to instrument he will want always to go back to the first; he will accept no assumption” (Rousseau 188-189). Well, Mr. Rousseau, he thinks, I am here to go back to the very first questions. Why am I here? Why are we here? He knows his former tutor and the founder of this college had their differences, but he thinks the foundations are similar enough to allow for an experience of great personal significance. He enters campus through a large gate in the wall. It shuts behind him with a definitive click. II. Countermelody Emile sits at the corner of his seminar table. “The Life of the Mind” is a required discussion group for all first-year students. Two months have passed since he last heard the click of the gate. The readings have been stimulating, but the wind is no longer at his back on his expedition. He stays engaged, but he sometimes wonders why his peers seem content to just talk. There is a term they keep using, “the conversation” (Oakeshott 16, 30, 34). It seems like an accepted end in itself, this conversation, a kind of proper noun without a clear delineation. He is not always sure whether he is 4 Oakeshott 22. Since I am building a hypothetical college on Oakeshott’s writing, I choose to imagine that the college has translated the spirit of his writing into academic policy. 33 �in “the” conversation or just “a” conversation. The ideas that come up in these discussions are wonderful. Yet whenever he tries to offer an opportunity to test them out after class, like the time he proposes a system for measuring “soul” as a ratio like health, his peers seem embarrassed and hesitant. Is this the limit of learning at Oakeshott? The students seem like cartographers who draw maps from descriptions but never travel, never measure the land with their eyes. The tutor, Ms. Vendredi, sits just to his right, at the end of the table. She reads from an essay by the founder of the college. “Oakeshott wrote that ‘Liberal learning is a difficult engagement’” (Oakeshott 30). She pauses. “‘It depends upon an understanding of itself which is always imperfect; even those who presided over its emergence hardly knew what they were doing. And it depends upon a self-confidence which is easily shaken and not least by continual self-examination’ (Oakeshott 30). So,” continues Ms. Vendredi, “What perplexes me is... What is it that we are learning in such a difficult way?” “Human self-understanding,” offers a fellow student at the end of the table, reminding everyone of the school motto. “It is inseparable from learning to participate in what is called a ‘culture’” (Oakeshott 16). She refers to the text by Oakeshott. Emile writes this down carefully. He finds satisfaction in the careful script of his hand and the even flow of ink from a well-designed pen. He thinks about his craftsman tools. It helps him feel valuable to make things that people pay him for, to re- 5 mind him that he can find his way through a problem with his own wits. His compensation has been a source of self-confidence. How are students compensated in their culture of learning? By grades? By affirmations at the seminar table? He is momentarily distracted, thinking of the instruments of the seminar. Pens, printed texts on paper, the table, the chairs, all invisible to his peers but designed by experts to be perfectly invisible to their users. A pair of glasses perches on his tutor’s nose, calibrated by an optician. A lamp above the table holds the light of engagement at a standardized level of lumens, using a predictable number of watts. Are these instruments not part of our culture here at Oakeshott? He wonders how the college community fails to acknowledge that the craftsmanship of its physical environment is part of its culture. Isn’t the tutor’s optician participating in the seminar, indirectly? Ms. Vendredi seems to have caught him staring at her glasses. Her eyes, distorted by the lenses, remind him of a lesson from Mr. Rousseau about the refraction of light and how a stick will appear to bend in water. She invites him to share what is on his mind. “Is this idea of culture measurable?” he asks. “What could one use to determine whether it is even real? And if it is, how might participants in the culture know when or if they are participating? And in the context of learning about human understanding, surely the economic output resulting from that understanding must be considered?”5 A hypothetical point of view, imagined based on a synthesis of Rousseau‘s emphasis of instrumentation in the education of Emile. See Rousseau 169, 176, 184, 188-189 34 �A classmate across from him responds. “I see what you’re saying. Maybe the measurement of learning is what you could use to show how culture is developing, and then furthermore how learning impacts local trade. Consider this passage in the text: ‘A large part of human conduct is, and always has been, concerned with exploiting the resources of the earth for the satisfaction of human wants, and much of human learning is concerned, directly or indirectly, with this endlessly proliferating intelligent engagement….’ (Oakeshott 11-12). In the context of a culture of learning about human self-understanding, she nods, Oakeshott would agree that, ‘This certainly is genuine learning’” (Oakeshott 12). Another peer to his left jumps in, “I think that economic output might be considered as a voice in the culture, but not the culture itself.” He wonders what she means by “voice.” Voices have ranges and are heard in pitches. They emit sounds in octaves. They can be transcribed onto staves of treble and bass clefs with precision. That is not what she means. She is talking about the conversation again. She cites Oakeshott, “Perhaps we may think of these components of a culture as voices... Each the expression of a distinct and conditional understanding of the world and a distinct idiom of human self-understanding, and of the culture itself as these voices joined, as such voices could only be joined, in a conversation” (Oakeshott 30). He does not quite follow. “Are you saying that the mere existence of the conversation itself is the value? Well, what is that conversation good for (Rousseau 179). His peers appear non-plussed. A man across the table retorts with a raised eyebrow, “I mean, that’s kind of the whole point here at Oakeshott. If you’re not here for the conversation,” he then looks around the table for reactions, “then what are we even doing here, guys?” Emile tries to explain what he means. “The idea of this conversation as ‘culture’ needs to have some utility and purpose that helps us toward self-understanding. It needs some property that allows one to use it to measure progress towards that self-understanding. Like it says on the lampposts...” He trails off and feels like he’s losing them. “Ok, just imagine it like this.” He finds himself proposing the development of a series of measurements, and then a data collection plan, for extrapolating the relative influence each “voice” might have on the outcome of self-understanding. One could develop an entire curriculum around this way of measuring impact, train experts in program management, advise governments on how to manage grants effectively, change the world…!6 He stops, seeing a mix of bemusement around the table. Has he departed from the text again?7 Another peer to his left chimes in, challenging him. “I feel like your idea matches what Oakeshott called ‘the relic of a dis- 6 A hypothetical train of thought, based on a description of Emile’s training in following his curiosity. See Rousseau’s anecdotes about magnetism, navigation, and optics. 7 I imagine this feeling would come up frequently, given his training in applying concepts that are not contained in his inspirational texts. 35 �position’ to value sciences ‘in terms of the use which may be made of the conclusions of their inquiries.’ An attitude like this ‘has sometimes led to a proliferation of what may be called semisciences - organizations of information in terms of the use which may be made of it’” (Oakeshott 22). Emile can sense that he is being cautioned against falling into the rabbit hole of applied science. arts, but to the continuous intellectual adventure in which human beings have sought to identify and to understand themselves’ (Oakeshott 13). So, if you let people get dragged into the tooling side of the learning process, you’d never have the intellectual adventure. You’d be so focused on the mechanics that you’d lose the plot about the purpose of those tools.” “Ok, well call them what you will, but these ‘semisciences’ sound important.” He encourages the seminar to think differently. “Surely there is a need for instrumenting these contributors to learning, these voices, especially given their potential impact on human understanding. The development of such tools, or instruments, for advancing our goal of self-understanding could drive entirely new ways of thinking. It is not a betrayal of liberal learning to use tools,” he asserts, “if they are being invented as part of the learning experience. My old tutor used to say, ‘With every tool I use, I do not fail to ask myself, “If I did not have this tool, how would I go about making one like it or doing without it?”’ (Rousseau 188-189). In this way, instrumenting the culture and conversation would be in service to Oakeshott’s ideals, not a distraction by an instrumental art.” He ponders this response, more than a little disappointed, and he starts to wonder if he made a mistake by coming here. Oakeshott College had seemed to have the same foundations of intellectual adventure as his tutor Rousseau, but he had not expected instrumentation to be so undervalued by his peers. Another peer across the table disagrees. “The focus should be on the general learning experience, not an obsession with its mechanisms. Oakeshott wrote that, ‘What comes into view is not merely an extension of the field of instrumental learning but an altogether different engagement of critical self-understanding in which we relate ourselves, not to our inheritance of instrumental 36 Ms. Vendredi brings the conversation back to center. “Oakeshott’s focus was that ‘Liberal learning is learning to respond to the invitations of the great intellectual adventures in which human beings have come to display their various understandings of the world and of themselves’ (Oakeshott 22). She might have noticed Emile’s furrowed brow and the beginnings of a doodle emerging from his pen. Isn’t the development of tools just such an intellectual adventure? He wonders. Is Oakeshott – both the college and its namesake – denying him an invitation to allow his own craftsmanship into the conversation? He sketches an isometric drawing of a pair of glasses next to the words “self-understanding” and “relic.” III. Dissonance Twenty-six months have passed since the click of the gate. Twenty-year-old Emile �sits in an empty natural science laboratory, his mind caught in a wrestling match between Rousseau and Oakeshott. His first year has been stimulating, different from his life before college. Even when he finds himself at odds with the college’s approach to learning, he could tolerate the difference as novel. Just as Mr. Oakeshott had written, the “voice” of the college was indeed just part of the conversation (Oakeshott 30). It was the loudest voice on campus, but he still had Mr. Rousseau‘s voice in his memory. But now, a microscope is on the counter in front of him, and he is furious. The instrument has been simple enough to learn how to use. He has regretted, even, not having had one earlier in his tutelage. What infuriates him now is not the device itself, but the memory of his peers’ attitudes toward the microscope during the lab earlier that day. They were given precise instructions on how to operate the scope and what to look for through its lenses. They each followed the instructions to the best of their ability. And that was all. Alone now, he pulls out a discarded pair of glasses he has recovered from a campus trash can. One lens has been cracked, but the other is perfectly intact. They were simple reading glasses. He could see, in his mind, how the lens could be removed from the glasses, then how it could be edged to fit a new component that could be placed over the eyepiece. With the right angle, a mirror, and with enough light from below, he might be 8 9 able to project the contents of the microscope slide onto a screen. Students could share the same experiences with one microscope, seeing the same things under the microscope at the same time, instead of requiring multiple microscopes and making students take turns. As his mind wanders, he wonders if he could find an old telescope, then try adding a layer of magnitude to the projection without altering the microscope lens.8 What bothers him now is that his peers took no interest in the microscope itself, only the contents of the slide. Indeed, he felt like the college itself took no interest in the microscope. Mr. Oakeshott himself would have relegated it to the domain of the “instrumental arts.”9 And yet, the instrument had been so critical in the learning experience for developing self-understanding among the students. The achievement of learning was directly proportional to the precision of the instrument. The inextricable link between instruments and learning meant that instrumental arts were the sine qua non of liberal arts. Emile could see all the unrealized potential blocked by this prejudice against tooling. Of course, the microscope was “just an instrument” to the single-minded goal of learning, but in understanding how the instrument was designed in the first place, Emile could imagine better instruments, better insights, better learning experiences. His frustration building, he begins feeling trapped on campus. In their sophomore year, many of the Oakeshott students have behaved less like curious peers and more like the arrogant buy- Inspired by Rousseau 201 A hypothetical conclusion inspired by Oakeshott 30 37 �ers he used to see visiting the craftsmen in the market. Being students at the college had become their source of dignity and self-perceived status. Their isolation and rejection of the instrumental arts marks their self-perceived intellectual purity. For people like this, modifying a microscope would mean temporarily leaving their blessed journey of liberating their souls from ignorance.10 Let the craftsmen worry about such things, he could imagine them saying. Now in his junior year, Emile clenches his fist around the discarded glasses thinking about the attitudes of his peers. Honest labor had been a defining part of his life’s meaning before Oakeshott. Mr. Rousseau had said, “To work is therefore an indispensable duty for social man. Rich or poor, powerful or weak, every idle citizen is a rascal” (Rousseau 195). The easygoing veneer of youth has worn off for him and his peers, and now he confronts the social experience of living among people with no work experience, no sense of what it feels like to translate ideas into reality and then to receive the most concrete feedback: a market-based compensation. Despondence replaces Emile’s outrage. What is his place here? He begins to feel the walls of the secluded campus stifling his instincts and deadening his voice. The dignity of work being stripped from this campus society, he notices dignity instead being assigned in other ways: the signaling of erudition with classroom performance, the carefree attitude towards life outside class, the adaptation of speech and dress to match the place and time and audi- 10 38 ence, and the exhibition of enlightened viewpoints ringing like an insistent bell in the hallways. Mr. Oakeshott had not written about this culture of the young and the learned. Yet here it was, the product of a secluded campus that rejected the tempering influence of the instrumental arts. His peers from last year’s Life of the Mind seminar have continued to cite Mr. Oakeshott as the way to learn liberally, but they have shared an unspoken consensus behind their eyes: that “liberal learning” is the key to avoiding an unimportant life. He had come to college to examine life’s meaning. His peers were now habitually examining whether anything they encountered rose to a level of sufficient prestige. He can sense that what he is experiencing is not necessarily what Mr. Oakeshott had intended, but it was nevertheless precisely the kind of society that Mr. Rousseau had cautioned him against. These students were chasing the gold and diamonds of the benighted aristocrats, and he had been taught to never forget the surpassing value of iron and glass among the noble craftsmen, whose art truly liberates. Mr. Oakeshott had sought to create a campus protected from the corrupting influence of the hic et nunc, but in so doing, he had exacerbated the corrupting influence of endless leisure or of promoting liberal learning as preferential to labor. Mr. Rousseau had taught him to integrate learning and labor. He could see now that his tutor had driven him to innovate, to invent, and to disrupt what he sees as ineffective or inefficient relics of institutional inertia. A hypothetical conclusion based on Oakeshott 22, 31, 34 �He wants to shout to his peers in an editorial, or surreptitiously post a call for change on the campus walls. They have misunderstood Rousseauian utility! “What is that good for?” is not a relic of a disposition toward utility but rather a call to virtue, a conviction of consciousness, not with the aim of economic impact but with the simple concept that ideas should make a difference. “This is now the sacred word,” he quotes Mr. Rousseau in his mind, “the decisive word between and me in all the actions of our life” (Rousseau 179). Here in the lab, without his craftsman’s tools, and with haughty judgments about instrumental arts clouding his self-esteem, the target of his despondence transfers. The disappointment is not with the college but with himself. Mr. Rousseau had warned him against the path of books. Mr. Oakeshott would never have wanted him here with his love of instruments and invention. He wants to flee, to climb over the walls. Or stage an insurrection, block the doors, make threats. But he has made a commitment to himself to finish this adventure. “No book other than the world, no instruction other than the facts,” (Rousseau 168). he recalls from Mr. Rousseau. This campus, the secluded world of liberal learning, is forcing him to question the value of a community that produces no goods and elicits no feedback from the outside world. He resents himself for studying here and yearns for the tools he sold over two years ago. He deftly pops the good lens out of the glasses. IV. Harmony It is the second term of his junior year, and Ms. Vendredi has invited Emile for a private conference. He notices the absence of her glasses, then sees the faintest outline of contact lenses around her green-blue irises. Apparently people do try new things at Oakeshott. He wonders if the light, bouncing off the mountains outside her window, refracts differently into her pupils than it did through her glasses over two years ago. “Would you mind if I read aloud?” begins Ms. Vendredi. He politely consents. She nods and raises the text to her eyes. “The art of the master consists in never letting his pupil’s observations dwell on minutiae which lead nowhere but in bringing him ever closer to the great relations he must know one day in order to judge well of the good and bad order of civil society” (Rousseau 190). She pauses, looking at him over her page. A slight smile grows at the corner of her mouth. Emile feels a touch of familiarity. He frowns, then returns a flicker of a smile, like a shaft of light through storm clouds, noticed only by one looking for sun. Ms. Vendredi goes on, her own smile growing, “One must know how to match the conversations with which one entertains him to the turn of mind he has been given” (Rousseau 190). She puts down the page. “How do you come to know the writings of my former tutor, Mr. Rousseau?” he asks. His eyes are soft, nostalgic. Hers are kind, with cordial distance, like an aunt who knows better than her nephew. 39 �She corrects him gently and with a wink, “Surely, you must mean my former tutor.” Emile is stunned. Mr. Rousseau was her tutor, too? A mist forms at the edge of her eyes. They share a common history. She explains how she herself had come to bridge the views of her Rousseauian tutelage with the call of Oakeshott College, at least two decades before he arrived. She had her own journey from the market to the secluded campus. “Mr. Rousseau and Mr. Oakeshott did not agree, but that does not mean you must choose one or the other. Will you indulge me with one more reading, this one from Mr. Oakeshott?” He consents, gladly. She picks up a separate page. “[C]hoosing wants to satisfy is also something that has to be learned, and […] the conditions to be subscribed to in making such choices are not the terms of the instrumental arts and practices in which chosen wants may be conveniently satisfied” (Oakeshott 13). “You see,” she prods Emile, “the desire to innovate and to invent, to challenge and disrupt and improve, this is a want you must learn when and whether to satisfy. It is not the deeper meaning you are seeking but a discipline, valuable in finding that meaning. It is a desire that you can use your instrumental arts to fulfill when the time is right. But!” She pauses and holds up a finger: a teaching moment. “The time is not always right! There are times when you must learn to concentrate on the simple fact of “being,” not what could be.” Emile observes her skeptically. “Ms. Vendredi,” he asks, “I think I understand 40 your advice, but where do you see this in Mr. Oakeshott’s text?” “Ah,” she nods, “let me continue. “What comes into view is not merely an extension of the field of instrumental learning but an altogether different engagement of critical self-understanding in which we relate ourselves, not to our inheritance of instrumental arts, but to the continuous intellectual adventure in which human beings have sought to identify and to understand themselves” (Oakeshott 13). “Do you see?” she asks. “Your ability to create instruments is a heritage, just like your current adventure of liberal learning is a heritage, passed down through generations and inviting those who cannot help but feel like there is something deeper to life. They exist side-by-side, instruments and critical learning. But you must also learn that there is benefit in setting one aside to focus on the other.” “So,” Emile asks, “do you mean to say that Mr. Oakeshott was not abjuring the instrumental arts but simply deferring them?” “Well...” Ms. Vendredi looks down and smiles at the question. When she looks up again, her smile is framed by a warm frown. “Maybe not. Oakeshott’s text keeps the instrumental arts at a distance from the liberal arts. I can’t say that my own conclusions are also his. And yet,” she added, “my experience of the two arts is that their differences are complementary.” She continues. “There are plenty of voices at Oakeshott College, if you learn to �discern them. I sense that you have been hearing one dominant voice, the voice that devalues the instrumental arts, rather too loudly. I don’t think that voice is Mr. Oakeshott’s. He knew the instrumental arts had value. In fact, their value was so great to the hic et nunc that it might crush the flourishing of liberal arts among students and faculty. Whether instrumental arts were to be abjured or deferred among students of the liberal arts might depend on what the student does after graduating. But before that moment, he did argue that they would be distracting.” between your pupils’ knowledge and mine’s ignorance! They know maps, and he makes them” (Rousseau 171). She nods in agreement, encouraging him to reflect. He ponders. “Is this feeling of being out-of-step with my classmates, of being ignorant, or being inferior... Is this just how it feels to draw your own map when everyone else already knows how to read one?” “Please remember,” adds Ms. Vendredi, “that you have a voice as well. And we all need you to use it – judiciously, of course, and respectfully, as we all must learn to do, even in discord. But use it you must, or else the chorus lacks harmony.” With this, she pauses, looking at her bookshelf. He follows her gaze to a well-worn copy of Robinson Crusoe. On faded paper, a map drawn by the hand of a child is folded up next to Defoe. Emile clears his throat and quotes their tutor. “Emile,” she says, “everyone at Oakeshott College is creating their map. And yes, some people already have fine calligraphy whereas you can create your own pens from scratch. But eventually, everyone has to cobble together their own map for themselves when they realize that there’s a quieter voice leading them into new territory. In the efficient market of the world outside, it’s tempting to assume that the rational system of compensation dictates real value. But there is a dominant melody of appetite there, drowning out the voice that calls for deeper meaning and greater value that does not attract compensation. Having heard that voice and, like me, found your way here, you can learn to discern the topography and listen to quieter voices, then join their harmony. Rousseau’s voice is here at Oakeshott, just not the dominant melody. “The goal is not that he know exactly the topography of the region, but that he know the means of learning about it. It is of little importance that he have maps in his head, provided that he is able to get a good conception of what they represent, and that he has a distinct idea of the art which serves to draw them. See the difference there already is “Now I hope,” she adds, standing up, “you will continue this conversation with me as you complete your journey here at Oakeshott. You know, you can have more than one mentor, and our Mr. Rousseau was just the first of many voices whose melodies you can recite simultaneously, in a lively interplay of harmony and dissonance. Learning to accept Emile begins to see her point. This new interpretation allows for the warring voices in his mind to coexist, without forcing them to agree, and without accepting one at the expense of the other. 41 �their invitation to listen, and sometimes to sing, is part of the process.” She smiles again. He looks out the window at the mountains, thinking how shallow they would be without the contrast of blue and green. V. The Instrument Emile is now twenty-one, a senior at Oakeshott. He is not yet thinking about his plan after graduation, but neither is he worried about whether he fits in. Even without the freedom to innovate and invent, he is experiencing an active world of experimentation in dialogue, in writing, and is finding sanctuary in the willingness of some tutors and peers to at least hear his ideas without judgment. The aspiring philosopher within him grows, happily, into a new kind of craftsman. In so doing, this philosopher also admonishes him to accept his own limits. There is indeed more to be learned by developing empirical instruments, but his mind is its own instrument, one that can only be made more precise after first being acknowledged. As he walks pensively along the perimeter of the campus, his hand trailing along the walls, he feels cheeky. Mr. Oakeshott’s “place of learning” may require him to defer his instrumental arts, but if the mind itself is an instrument, Rousseau may be having the last laugh. Emile remembers another of his tutor’s lines. “The surest means of raising oneself above prejudices and ordering one’s judgments about the true relations of things is to put oneself in the place of an isolated man and to judge everything as this man himself ought 42 to judge of it with respect to his own utility.” Here among the mountains of blue and green, his own mind under the metaphorical microscope, he has found and raised himself above his own prejudices. Has he seen the true relations of things? That would depend on how well the microscope was instrumented! He laughs to himself. Every seminar is a way of calibrating that microscope. With Rousseau and Oakeshott in harmony, he hears their voices fueling a surge of self-confidence for the remainder of his adventure in self-understanding. Rousseau, in baritone: “Emile has a mind that is universal not by its learning but by its faculty to acquire learning; a mind that is open, intelligent, ready for everything, and, as Montaigne says, if not instructed, at least able to be instructed” (Rousseau 207). And Oakeshott, in tenor: “To be human, to have wants and to try to satisfy them, is, then, to have the use of particular skills, instrumental practices and relationships. There is no action which is not a subscription to some art, and utterance is impossible without a language” (Oakeshott 12). He is a human, a self, on an adventure related to his particular skills, ready for everything. He hums along absentmindedly, fingering a lens in one pocket and a pen in the other, as the lamppost banners ripple in the wind. �Time, 8x8” oil on canvas panel - Amelia Taylor Wolfe It is what it is, Our sweet tautology— A phrase so warn and tattered, It’s seared in memory. You have no metaphysics When you say sweet nothings. Easy to ignore the Ever Present, The one and only True Being. Joey Jekel 43 �44 �Image, Imaginary, and Ignorance of Real Being The Myth of Narcissus in Plotinus’ Enneads and Anna Kornbluh’s Immediacy Gus Kraus When we look into a mirror and say that we see ‘ourselves’, we casually assume an identity between an image and that of which it is an image. This assumption, however, obscures the medium by which we face ‘ourselves’: the mirror. In fact, what we find is not at all what we sought, but only an appearance. Generalizing from this example, we may question the ‘given’ of the broader data of sense-perception: by what medium do we encounter reality? That is, not the image but the real thing, which causes the image? In pursuing this question, it may appear odd to pair a late Antique mystic “embarrassed about having a body”1 and a Jamesonian critic of “contemporary cultural aesthetics.”2 However, the intersections of Marxism and Psychoanalysis are no stranger to Ancient Literature: with “Odysseus or Myth and Enlightenment”, Adorno and Horkheimer offered3 their own contribution to a field of research in which Plotinus’ student, Porphyry, labored over a millenia before (eg. On the Cave of the Nymphs). This is to say nothing of Freud’s own reception of Sophocles’ Theban plays or, apropos of Plato, his tripartite division of the psyche (Greek for “soul”). In this respect, Anna Kornbluh’s 2023 Immediacy: Or, The Style of Too Late Capitalism carries on a well established tradition of both Critical Theory in particular and of Philosophy generally. Despite writing in different philosophical and historical contexts, Kornbluh rather interestingly parallels Plotinus in analogizing and allegorizing myth, specifically that of Narcissus, in order to critique a cultural ignorance of mediating and symbolic layers between a given image and reality. Narcissus in Critique of ‘Immediacy’ Kornbluh’s investigation of the Image and the Imaginary is one component in a broader project of aesthetic critique. She designates “Immediacy” as a contemporary cultural style that undertakes a “reification of what merely appears” (Kornbluh 190). This culturally dominant style demands immersion and eschews any form of mediating or representational interference. Rather than the cynicism and self-awareness of postmodernity calling attention to the work of art qua art (the object of Frederic Jameson’s seminal critique, which Kornbluh considers the cultural logic of an earlier period (Kornbluh 1213), Immediacy blurs formal delineations like media or genres to cultivate supposedly unmediated, authentic experience as art’s unquestionable raison d’être. It thus extols, in both form and content, effortless flow, or as Kornbluh describes, “#NoFilter” (Kornbluh 6). Hoping to ground us, contra Immediacy style, she calls our attention to one of its inherent contradictions: “[t]he paradox of immediacy is a cultural style that imaginesitself unstyled” (Kornbluh 11). Amidst the swirling sense of immediate urgency and aesthetic flux, wherein “representation is slackening … [m]edium dissolves, extremes effulge, exposure streams,” (Kornbluh 1) she discovers an economic basis of this cultural aesthetic, as a project of stylizing of the “intensification of circulation” (Kornbluh 44) of capital. Kornbluh uses this analysis of the material, objective basis of Immediacy to begin an investigation of the cultural style’s subjective effects, among which is a kind of Narcissism. Linking a Debordian account of this intensified circulation, where commod- 1 “On the Life of Plotinus and the Order of His Books”. The Enneads. Tr. Boys-Stones, George et al. Ed. Gerson, Lloyd. Cambridge University Press, 2018. 17. 2 Kornbluh, Anna. Immediacy: Or, The Style of Too Late Capitalism. Verso, 2023. 1. 3 Adorno, Theodor and Horkheimer, Max. Dialectic of Enlightenment: Philosophical Fragments. Tr. Jephcott, Edmund. Ed. Noerr, Gunzelin Schmid. Stanford University Press, 2002. 35. Facing Page: Hance, 15x11” intaglio print - Jesse Wood 45 �ities develop into spectacles4, to a Lacanian ‘reframing’ of psychological phenomena as topoi of social critique5, she makes the move from the Image to the Imaginary: “Too late capitalism’s circulation-centricity expediates a historical contingent inflation of the image, and arguably, the subjective corollary is the inflation of the imaginary” (Kornbluh 47). Kornbluh explores prior attempts to account for this “subjective corollary” in the the ‘trend’ of pop psychologizing today’s culture as abundantly narcissistic (Kornbluh 46) However, to interrogate this supposed “epidemic” of egocentricity within the image-economy “with a lens other than moral panic,” (Kornbluh 53) she recounts a psychoanalytic retelling of the myth of Narcissus: “When this ordinary entrance into the symbolic [as the “terrain of alterity”] is obstructed, the subject remains too much in the imaginary - the specular state we commonly recognize as “narcissism.” [...] The name comes from the ancient Greek myth of Narcissus, a young man who found his own reflection in a pool so captivating that he could not tear himself away from water’s edge and literally wasted away into death. [...] Narcissism fundamentally pertains to the image; the subject invests libidinally not in a substantiality like “ego” but in a speculative effect of the technology of the mirror. In the ancient myth, the image floats on water and might 4 therefore be construed as naturally occurring. But in Lacan’s retelling, the mirror function encompasses glass, photography, screens. Narcissism becomes qualified as an attachment to the ego qua effect of the mirror [...] Conditioning the very existence of the narcissist, mirroring also composes their primal demand: the reflection must be repeated. One selfie is never enough. [...] An economy that prizes the circulation of images, human capital entrepreneurs, and the data-fication of everything into endless counting of the homogenized same realizes in plasma the mythic promise of the fluid screen. Narcissus’s mirror is industrially ordained” (Kornbluh 51-52). Kornbluh’s critique of Immediacy’s psychological impact centers on how the hyper-circulation of images creates a relationship between the subject and those images analogous to that of Narcissus as his reflection. The subject, gazing into a screen as a bottomless sea of spectacles, takes as substantial, unmediated and real what, when subjected to critique (only possible via the Symbolic), is in fact contingent, mediated and imaginary. Kornbluh advocates for the mediating power of critical theory as a way to overcome this assumption of identity born of ignorance. “”Drowning in a deluge of images without context, words without meaning, information without distinction - this is the subjective experience in an economy of immediacy. [...] A society of the spectacle in which sociality transpires through eyes, it can often seem to individuals as though our work is the production of our own image …” ibid 45, 56; cf. “In societies where modern conditions of production prevail, life is presented as an immense accumulation of spectacles [...] The spectacles is not a collection of images; it is a social relation between people that is mediated by images.” Debord, Guy. The Society of the Spectacle. Tr. Knabb, Ken. Bureau of Public Secrets, 2014. Theses 1, 4. 5 “The psychoanalyst Jacques Lacan posits the imaginary, the symbolic, and the real as three distinct but interdependent orders of psychic experience. These reframe Sigmund Freud’s topography of the ego, the superego and the id, respectively, elucidating that the domains of the subject are also objective realms of the social.” Kornbluh 48. 46 �Narcissus in Inquiry into Beauty Plotinus wrote two different tractates concerning Beauty. According to his student, Porphyry, the first treatise he had ever written was I.6 “On Beauty”; years later, he revisited the topic in V.9 “On the Intelligible Beauty”6. Despite this gap between their composition, both make recourse to the myth of Narcissus to illustrate the transcendent and noetic qualities of Beauty. Following his dialectic method, Plotinus begins his inquiry into Beauty with a question: “[w]hat, then indeed, that has actually made us to imagine bodies to be beautiful … what is this beauty?”7 The possibility that Beauty emerges from the material substrate of bodies (BoysStones et al. (1.6.1.10-15)) or our perception of them is quickly dismissed. For Plotinus, it would be an impossibility, insofar that he is searching for Beauty as an existent and has said elsewhere that “matter does not even have existence [...] rather, we say that ‘existence’ is said of it equivocally …” (Boys-Stones et al. (I.8.5.10-15) 114). Instead, Plotinus establishes that the really-existent and immaterial Soul recognizes in a material body something else substantial, intelligible, “to which it has kinship” (BoysStones et al. (I.6.2.10) 94). A material body becomes beautiful only by participation in an undivided Form, in the real existent, in Beauty itself (Boys-Stones et al. (I.6.2.25; I.6.3.5-10) 95). The distinction between real ‘existence’ and the colloquial use of the word allows him later, in analyzing immaterial virtues as beauties, to connect Beauty to the real: “what does ‘real Beings’ mean? In fact, it means that they are beautiful Beings” (Boys-Stones et al. (I.6.5.15-20) 97). 6 Plotinus uses the myth of Narcissus as an exhortation to pursue this real, intelligible Beauty. Because Plotinus argues such a simple Form subsists in the noetic, (Boys-Stones et al. (1.6.9.40) 103) the apprehension of beauty becomes a cognitive act by the beholder. However, when we depend on our sense-perception rather than our intellect, we are unaware of the role our cognition plays in aesthetic judgements. Plotinus notes that we habitually “pursue external[ beauties], being ignorant of the fact that it is the internal that moves us. It is as if someone, looking at his own image, and being ignorant of where it came from, were to pursue it” (Boys-Stones et al. (5.8.2.3435) 612; Emphasis mine). This shorter mythic allusion emphasizes the noetic quality of the Form in which external Beauties pursue, and analogizes our ignorance of this fact to Narcissus not knowing what causes the image on the surface. In I.6 “On Beauty”, Plotinus recounts the story in more detail, and calls attention to own analogical readings. He enjoins the viewer that “...when he does see beauty in bodies, he should not run after them, but realize that they are images and traces and shadows, and flee towards that of which they are images. For if someone runs towards the image, wanting to grasp it as something true, like someone wanting to grasp a beautiful reflection in water - as a certain story (μῦθος) has it, hinting (αἰνίττεται) at something else, in an enigmatic way, I think, who falls into the water and disappears - in the identical manner, someone who holds on to beautiful “On the Life of Plotinus and the Order of His Books”. The Enneads. Tr. Boys-Stones, George et al. Ed. Gerson, Lloyd. Cambridge University Press, 2018. 20-21. 7 The Enneads (I.6.1.5-10). Boys-Stones et al, 92. 47 �bodies does not let them go plunges down, not with his body but with his soul, into the depths, where there is no joy for an intellect, and where he stays, blind in Hades [...]”8 “[H]inting at something else” implies a meaning for the story which is not immediately apparent. Plotinus posits a need for interpretation: the myth’s ainittetai (‘riddling’, intimating, or hinting9) beckons the reader to decode its ainigmata (“riddles”, whence English ‘enigma’10). But further, by retelling the myth in a self-referential way which calls attention to himself as an interpreter (“... I think…”). Following Plotinus’ lead, we may say that the myth of Narcissus does not merely portray a youth who chases not after the beautiful but its image; the story presents itself as an image, signifying some other meaning. The image discloses this hidden meaning only when we “flee towards that of which [it is an] image…” Plotinus uses the myth as a practical example the semiotic approach to material beauties he advocates, building on ‘Diotima’s Ladder’ from the Symposium11 as a hermeneutics of sense-experience via inward contemplation (theoria). An Intriguing Echo The Nymph, Echo, spurned by Narcissus, loses her bodily form and becomes merely a “voice”12. So too does a sound echoing through a cave mutate as it bounces from one surface to another. In the same way, the echo of the myth in its retellings changes through its successive receptions. Kornbluh, whose primary references concerning Narcissus and narcissism are Lacan and Freud, makes no indication of a noetic essence of Beauty. Furthermore, Plotinus would not 8 find much “to which [the Soul] has kinship” in Kornbluh’s materialist analysis of commodity circulation, which in a Marxist and Lacanian sense makes up an objective, social basis for the subject; thus, the outline of economic shifts necessarily prefigures her study of an inflated imaginary as their “subjective corollary”. But despite these retellings appearing within two discourses which could not be more at odds in principles, they share a stunningly similar rhetorical structure. The viewing subject catches sight of its reflection, and becomes erotically attached to this sensual datum (in a Plotinian sense, out of pursuit for the body and ‘plunging’ into matter; for Kornbluh, out of libidinal overinvestment). Despite the object reflected appearing ‘real’, the growing obsession obfuscates the role of the medium in constructing the object: as Kornbluh says, the [“imaginged real” is not the real, but the effect of the mirror], much like Plotinus who distinguishes the image for that which causes the image and that the body is merely matter participating in form. Both Kornbluh and Plotinus turn from telling the myth as a portrayal of narcissistic self-deception to telling the myth as moral, blending the descriptive and prescriptive. Therefore, both make a similar prescription: the subject must strengthen their awareness of symbolic mediation (via theoretical critique, via exegesis of the ‘enigmatic’). The myth thus retains a coherent, rhetorical effect despite striking differences in philosophical context. Boys-Stones et al. (1.6.8.6-16) 101; Emphasis mine. For the Greek text, Henry, Paul, and Schwyzer, Hans-Rudolf. Plotini Opera I. Tomus I: Pophyrii Vita Plotini, Enneades I-III. Oxford Classical Texts, 1964. 102. 9 Lidell and Scott. An Intermediate Greek-English Lexicon. Oxford, 1889. 21. 10 ibid 11 Cf. Plato, Symposium 211b-c 12 “Corpus adhuc Echo, non vox erat…” Ovid, Metamorphoses 3.359. Ovid III Metamorphoses I. Loeb Classical Library, 1916. 3.359. 148. 48 �Doors and Windows of Mexico City - Aaron Knight There once was a thing in the void Its predecessor’s been destroyed Of being it’s not Becoming’s its lot It’s hard for the thing to stay joyed Amelia Wolfe 49 �~ Paul Harland-White 50 �Root to Rise Attachment in Xunzi Haley Prickett Xunzi opens the first chapter, “An Exhortation to Learning,” rooting himself in Confucius (through the invocation of something a gentleman says):”Learning must never stop… The gentleman learns broadly and examines himself thrice daily, and then his knowledge is clear and his conduct is without fault.”1 This is a particularly curious beginning that sets the stage for a project that is ongoing. Learning (the very subject being exhorted) cannot be finished, and must never stop. This suggests to me that the root–or the heart of this project Xunzi is undertaking–is likewise something eternal, and constant.2 I am perplexed by what learning is for Xunzi, and how the initial natural images make that less perplexing. Xunzi writes: Blue dye derives from the indigo plant, and yet it is bluer than the plant. Ice comes from water, and yet it is colder than water. Through steaming and bending, you can make the wood as straight as an ink-line into a wheel. And after its curve conforms to the compass, even when parched under the sun it will not become straight again, because likewise the steaming and bending have made it a certain way. Likewise, when wood comes under the ink-line, it becomes straight, and when metal is brought to the whetstone, it becomes sharp.3 Is natural learning different from education? I am understanding natural learning to be the knowledge gained through survival and getting older, a learning through experience–like that if you go underwater you cannot breathe, or if you touch fire you will get burned. Is Xunzi pointing us to a version of learning that is environmental learning? Do the people and the landscape among which one lives provide a parallel (but distinct) path of continuous learning that is not natural? This active learning, that the gentleman must never stop is growth in the present tense. So, I wonder: what is the root of this active learning and how is it possible to find any sort of footing, foundation, or stability with something that is constantly, by definition, in progress? I suspect that the images we are given of trees (those natural beings who transform, yet stand fixed and firm in their community) will be helpful. Two things Xunzi thinks about humanity seem initially clear: one, humans are not just born, humans are made, and two, we can only know what we see and hear. If you never climb a high mountain, visit a deep ravine, nor hear the wisdom of former kings, then you will never know the height of Heaven, the depth of the Earth, nor the magnificence of learning4 He writes (not in the words of a gentleman): “Children of [all] peoples cry with the same sound at birth, but when grown they have different customs, because teaching makes them thus.”5 I think I agree with him on this; people become what they are taught. But, then we have to 1 2 Eric Hutton, . Xunzi, “An Exhortation on Learning”. Princeton University Press, 2014. p. 1 This notion seems to check out for me, as a human who truly values learning and growth, learning does not have an end, learning is a way of being; learning is a continual process that must (in the imperative) continue. Otherwise… otherwise, what? There is no purpose to living? That seems extreme, but perhaps not too far off the mark. There is no growth? I think that is right, and supported by the images we are given of roots throughout this chapter. There is no transformation? That makes me wonder if transformation is a different sort of growth – one that requires intention, or cultivation. 3 Xunzi, p. 1 4 Xunzi, p. 1 5 Xunzi, p. 1 51 �wonder, what does it mean to be taught, and what should the content of the learning be? How does Xunzi use the examples of inanimate things that grow (and root and transform) to help us understand how the process (and product) of learning that underlies everything actually works. Learning is an ever ongoing event for Xunzi. In its continuity and cyclicality, nature provides a mirror for us to understand the proper form and purpose of ritual. Xunzi writes, in “The Rule of a True King” about the cosmic order: “Heaven and Earth are the beginning of life. Ritual and yi6 are the beginning of order. The gentleman is the beginning of ritual and yi.”7 By making ritual and yi his default, and learning to follow the form, the gentleman begins to accumulate virtue through his habits. The order of Heaven and Earth rely upon the “unifying guide” of gentlemen who tap into the “great root”8 through the practice of ritual. In this way, humanity gains cosmic relevance. The consistency that ritual provides creates a fixity. The ongoing practice of ritual solidifies and connects, across space and time, humanity. Ritual is a sort of glue that keeps us in connection with our ancestors, and in dialogue with future generations. Since reading Xunzi for the first time, I have been unable to forget his use of plants (silent, though living) to illustrate learning. As a self-taught botanist, the natural imagery of plants resonates, and I am interested to spend some time digging in (hah! pun intended) to the way they function within Xunzi’s project. In this essay, I will examine closely the images we are given of plants (things with roots) to clarify for myself (and ideally my reader) the way in which Xunzi uses the natural world to illustrate a truth about the human experience of learning. Before exploring further, it will be helpful to put the passage in question on the page: 6 In the south there is a bird called the meng jiu. It makes its nest from feathers, weaving it together with hair, and attaches it to the slender branch of a reed. When the wind comes along, the branch snaps, the eggs break, and its young perish. This happens not because the nest itself is flawed, but rather because of what it is attached to. In the west there is a plant called the ye gan. Its stem is four inches long, and it grows on the top of high mountains, so that it overlooks ravines a hundred yards deep. It has this view not because its stem can grow long, but rather because of where it stands. Likewise, when the peng vine grows among hemp plants, it goes straight up without being stood upright. The root of the lan huai plant is sweet-smelling angelica, but if you soak it in foul water then the gentleman will not draw near it, and the common people will not wear it. This happens not because the original material is not fragrant, but rather because of what it is soaked in. Therefore, the gentleman is sure to select carefully the village where he dwells, and he is sure to associate with well-bred men when he travels. This is how he avoids corruption and draws near to what is correct.9 The images presented are seemingly different: 1. The reed where the meng jiu bird builds its nest “fails” because of what it is attached to. 2. Seeing everything, the little plant (ye gan) “triumphs” because of where it stands. 3. The peng vine, growing upright, likewise “triumphs” because of where it stands. 4. The once sweet smelling roots of the lan huai plant, becoming foul, “fails” because of what it is soaked in. How do these metaphors illustrate something about learn- Since Hutton left yi untranslated, I shall do the same. It is worth noting what he says about the senses of the meaning. It can mean ethical standards (duty), the proper way to act (virtue), or righteousness. 7 Xunzi, “The Rule of a True King,” p. 75 8 Xunzi, “The Rule of a True King,” p. 75 9 Xunzi, “An Exhortation,” p. 2-3 52 �ing, and are the images consistent or distinct ideas? I suspect it is a both/and situation; they are both connected (there is consistency in the purpose of the image), and distinct–each has a unique nugget of wisdom. Each example deserves detailed observation. 1. The flimsy reed It is striking to me here that Xunzi first uses an example of a bird attaching to a plant. Birds can fly, they do not have roots or the limits of gravity in the same way, yet they demonstrate something crucial. Despite the fact that the meng jiu bird has some questionable parenting choices, the bird is not extinct (or at least not yet). Using the nearby reeds as a point of attachment, despite the nest being well built (in its own form, as a nest), the nest will ultimately render itself useless. When a strong wind comes along it is extremely likely, though not inevitable, that the baby birds will die. inevitably (and invariably) causes the nest to break and the baby birds to die. Are we to say, ‘what a dumb bird, how could it be so careless?’ I think no, the bird simply did what was natural, attached itself (and its future) to what it was surrounded by. Though, I do think we can wonder: ‘what a short-sighted bird, how could it not see the reed would not support the nest.’ This seems to be a pretty brutal example (unborn birds falling to their death before they even live), but also a pretty clear message about parenting 101–pay attention to the things you use to support your family. If they are not sturdy, rooted, and fixed (like virtue, or the Way), then there is no hope for your family. It could also be a warning about who you choose to surround yourself with– if they are reed-like, and flimsy, then death/ failure to thrive of the children will follow. They will not leave the nest and fly (as baby birds, or as students off to college) if your village lacks virtue. I cannot ignore the ambiguity of how it could be possible for this bird species to continue if it inevitably follows this same pattern?10 However, I think Xunzi is trying to illustrate the importance of being prepared for the wind, and attaching ourselves to things that are firmly rooted, and stable, otherwise we are sure to lose our footing, or our children! The nature of the reed is that it is flimsy, and not suited to support a nest. Since the meng jiu bird is not extinct, and the other metaphors in this passage are of plants, is the image actually about the reed? The reed (knowingly, maybe) allows the nest to become attached, for the time being. When the nest falls, the reed is unaffected. It simply continues its reed life, firmly rooted. Reeds are simultaneously flimsy and rigid. If foreign objects are attached to their stalks, if they are weighed down by something, then they do not panic and change their own course. They wait patiently for a strong enough wind to snap the “tumor” (nest) off. The reed is both shaky and solid. It is not capable of supporting life beyond its own being, in the same way a redwood tree might be. 2. The little ye gan The little plant is circumstantially favored–it is on a big mountain, it has a great view… but it does not ever get to be too tall, or too useful for that matter. It just lives out its little four inch life looking into the deep valleys, “because of where it stands.” This image of a tiny plant (smaller than the palm of your hand) with the view of the whole world from the top of a mountain makes me wonder if Xunzi is (with extreme subtlety) making a commentary on society. The little plants are fortunate; they have been born on a mountain top (perhaps this is like the nobility, or the family of the emperor–people who are born into “privilege” in society). Xunzi writes, “The gentleman is exceptional not by birth, but rather by being good at making use of things.”11 The ye gan, through no merit of its own root system, have been afforded the luxury 10 This is a potentially WILD turn of events, but what if this example of the bird is commenting on generational trauma… it will continue to shape those who do survive (invisibly) as they will either die out early, and continue the cycle generationally, or they will break the cycle and attach their nest elsewhere. 11 Xunzi, p. 2 53 �of an unobstructed view. They need not rely on anything beside their origins to see completely, or become educated through learning. The gentleman becomes exceptional because he is aware of what might be useful, not because he was born that way. The gentleman is made through learning. 3. The upright peng vine It grows straight (not through any virtue of its own root system) because it is supported by the hemp plant. Yet, because of the sturdy and reinforcing hemp plant, the vine can attain height. Like the ye gan, where the plant stands, where its roots are, is relevant. The peng vine (AMONG hemp plants) does not need to be stood up because it grows straight. The straight growth is the result of what is around, not necessarily any virtue of its own root system. It is the proximity in space to something else (something notably different from it) that enables it to climb. The direct physical proximity provides the foundation; the habitat determines the direction. If I am right, and this metaphor is a social commentary, does that mean where one is born in society determines where one’s learning begins? There is still no end to learning, but perhaps this is illustrating where one must start, from the perspective of a commoner (born without a title); one must learn from a teacher. The hemp plant guides the peng straight. Through learning, the vine climbs and is made straight, much like a commoner who goes on to become emperor (like everybody’s favorite emperor Shun, or Yu, the craftsman of the rivers), or any commoner who happens to be attached to the right teacher and learns the proper use of ritual. In fact, Xunzi concludes the chapter “Human Nature is Bad,” by twice exclaiming: “Everything depends on what you rub up against!”12 What we attach ourselves to, will dictate everything that follows. The little plant and the upright plant are connected “likewise,” suggesting similarity between the two images. Initially, I thought that the function of these images in- 12 13 54 Xunzi, “Human Nature is Bad,” p. 257 Xunzi, “The Rule of a True King,” p. 77 cluded explaining what it means to be rooted, or the “virtue” of being rooted. But, it is notable that they are “successful” as plants, more despite than because of their root systems. Yes, it is due to external circumstances that they are successful: the little plants have the best view because of their “home” on a mountain, and the vines grow straight because of the “village” of hemp plants supporting them. Potentially these two images serve to amplify what is possible for plants in a community, as opposed to relying entirely on oneself. The importance of community is not to be overlooked. In fact, Xunzi claims that if humans do not have social order, chaos will follow: “If there is chaos then they will disband. If they disband then they will be weak. If they are weak then they cannot overcome the animals. And so they will not get to live in homes and palaces. This is the meaning of saying that ‘one must not let go of ritual and yi even for a moment.’”13 This sets the direction Xunzi is going. So far, the examples have brought the danger (or advantage) of attachment and position to the forefront. The nests attached to the reeds that fall, the four inch plants that grew on the top of a mountain, the help provided by the hemp plant encourages a supported and upright vine. The final example though is different, it is only after the roots are no longer rooted that they become relevant for the metaphor. 4. Smells like Teen Spirit While rooted, the fragrance of the lan huai is dormant. When uprooted the smell is delightful. When soaked in something foul, the fragrance of the roots transforms–everyone now keeps their distance. This image presents unrooted roots “soaked” in something foul. Which makes me wonder why one would expect something marinated in something to smell anything but likewise foul. It is possible there is something important about the contrast between presoaked roots (a delight to the nostrils) losing their fragrance when soaked, and absorbing a different, and horrible odor (an offense to the olfactory system). There is a transforma- �tion, a material change, that happens when it is detached from its origins.14 Is being rooted in a place and being uprooted and soaked elsewhere really helping us understand the same thing? Upon reflection, I think yes. What we connect ourselves to, our roots, what we hold dear, what we deem of value does shape and transform us. Likewise, what we allow to permeate us, will transform us. Much depends on the nature of what we are being soaked in; if it is good, we will become good. If we study the ancients and practice ritual, the wealth of things to learn is infinite. If we gamble, and seek pleasure, and hang around with foul smelling people, we will be transformed and have a foul smell that repulses commoner and nobleman alike. Both being rooted, and being uprooted (both attaching to and detaching from) are examples of the external world influencing the internal. Does Xunzi think the “virtue” of a thing (plant or person) is nearly inseparable from the roots it has? Or is he pointing us to consider the circumstances as the real linchpin? Circumstances will always change; adaptability is crucial. It seems pertinent that plants do grow towards light. There is a natural inclination to use the energy being offered by the sun, the gentleman is likewise resourceful. 5. Roots as a Metaphor/The Secret Life of a Plant Parent–An Interlude All plants rely on their root systems to sustain their life and encourage new growth. They are in most cases subterranean(although air plants are a thing, and plants do have ‘aerial roots’), providing invisible stability; in all cases, roots are crucial to the health of a plant. Roots are what we connect ourselves to. Roots do not consider the profit to be gained by growing, they grow by instinct. Plants are different from us, yet they have much to teach us about how to live (and maybe, how to learn!) and how to make more life. In the plant world, people have “propagation stations” which consist of cuttings from other plants in water (or sometimes moss). As the cutting soaks in the water, it miraculously (though naturally) grows roots. You can keep some plants in water for a long time–years if you want to! It’s fascinating to see the root systems develop. It is also easy to notice if the roots are healthy or not (more so than you can when they are in soil, obviously); roots will turn brown and soggy when they have rotted; rotten roots are fatal. Trimming the rotten roots will help the plant grow healthier and potentially save the plant’s life. By observing the health of roots, it is possible to discern the natural growth pattern. If we consider roots metaphorically it seems only natural to think of where one comes from. The two most influential forces in shaping minds are (I think): family and education. What do family and education provide a person with? That feels like a loaded question, but I think in an ideal world, they provide the soil – where virtues are cultivated. Thus, if the values are rotten, the plant (and the person) will become likewise, rotten. If I live a life rooted in honesty, I will become an honest person. Not only what roots are, but also where the roots are, is relevant in shaping the future. Xunzi is asking us to look at the people around us, and if we see that they are flimsy and unsupportive, then we need to move! Or, we need to find a teacher, because we (and all of our future generations) are doomed otherwise. Now, (because I do not suppose that Xunzi’s intention was for me, thousands of years later, to use his ideas to explore my own understanding of roots as a plant parent), I will return to the text explicitly, with the question of how these images help the reader understand learning. 6. What to Do? Where to Next? It’s a Jungle Out There! The conclusion of the image reveals that the plants serve to explain that one must exercise discernment in selecting one’s community. Xunzi corroborates: “the gentleman is sure to select carefully the village where he dwells, and he is sure to associate with wellbred men when he travels. This is how he 14 I have a hunch that the opening images of dye, freezing, and an uncarved block (being made straight or round) might be a mirror for these images of roots and trees. 55 �avoids corruption and draws near to what is correct.”15 The duality of motion (towards what is right and away from what degrades) requires a double awareness–what will be to our benefit, and what will be to our detriment. Plants already know this inherently; they move towards the sun. The physical rootedness of plants (in the soil) limits their ability to move away from corruption. Luckily, we metaphorically rooted humans have more sovereignty. With this sovereignty also comes an infinite number of possibilities and choices. How are we supposed to know what is correct? Based on the poem16 that follows, the suggested technique for discerning what we should seek lies in building our foundation. What we build upon will dictate what is created. Just like in the natural world, bugs are generated from “rotten meat,” and maggots come from “fish that’s spoiled,” so too in human society. Ruin and misfortune emerge from “lazy, haughty men who forget their place.”17 If the foundation within (the roots) are corrupt, anything built on top will be building towards hatred. So, this makes clear, the uncorrupt path would build towards yi.18 Xunzi expounds upon this poem with more natural imagery. He writes, “You may spread out firewood as though all of the same kind, but fire will still seek out the dry pieces. You may level out the earth so that it appears all even, but water will still seek out the wet places…Wherever trees create shade, flocks of birds will rest. Wherever something turns sour, flies will gather.”19 Here, the emphasis is not on things that are rooted, but unrooted things that can move! Though the purpose of the metaphors is linked (nature can teach us about virtue), it feels like an in- 15 16 version from the four images of plants I have been focusing on. If not an inversion, it is certainly a change in perspective. The idea that fire will be able to perceive which wood is dry (and therefore good for food and growth), and likewise that water will be able to seek its nature seems vital. If what is beneficial is visible, this image is useless. I think the point is that despite the effort made to disrupt what appears (spread out firewood, as if you are testing fire to see if it knows what it ought to attach to), it will not disrupt the natural course of things. It is biologically fundamental that birds and creatures on foot will flock towards the place where there is shade, and food. Xunzi declares: “Likewise, there are words that summon misfortune, and there is conduct that beckons disgrace, so the gentleman is careful about where he takes his stand.”20 I am struck by the fact that in order to know where to stand, there are words and actions that are to be avoided (but not a clear prescription of what is to be searched for). This furthers Xunzi’s opening thought that learning is unending. It is not just knowing what there is to know; it is also being able to build upon that foundation. If you can accumulate enough earth, you can make mountain (bringing wind and rain!). If you can accumulate enough water, you can create a pool (bringing the dragons to live!). Xunzi boldly follows these two natural examples in an axiomatic way: “If you accumulate enough goodness to achieve virtue, then you will naturally attain to spirit-like powers and enlightenment, and the heart of the sage is complete therein.”21 The transition here is profound. If you live a good life, the “natural” progression appears Xunzi, “An Exhortation,” p. 3 Ode? It’s unclear the source of the passage, but it is set off, suggesting it belongs to a different source that Xunzi is using to build his argument. 17 Xunzi, “An Exhortation,” p. 3 18 It is not obvious what the antonym of hatred would be in this context. Perhaps yi is the closest? That would fit nicely with the emphasis Xunzi places on the combination of ritual and yi. However, I think if we read it as love, that would also be a reasonable articulation of the antithesis. 19 Xunzi, “An Exhortation,” p. 3 20 Xunzi, “An Exhortation,”p. 3 21 Xunzi, “An Exhortation,”p. 3 56 �to be a categorical transformation towards a higher self. It is with this enlightenment that the heart of the sage is perfected. Wow! Talk about a product of learning–“spirit-like powers”! This makes me wonder, how many plants would it take to make the inside space an “outside” space? Is there a quantifiable way to distinguish that a place is more like a jungle than an apartment? I wonder this because, it looks like there is a change of state that happens to the person who achieves these “spirit-like powers and enlightenment.” This appears to echo the opening images –ice being colder than water (its original state), and the indigo dye being bluer than the plant (in its original state). However, unlike the wood that has been made straight or curved will not revert in the sun. Yet, if the process of accumulating virtue and goodness stops, a regression is possible. Is this transformation of the heart a change of state for the person? Accumulating knowledge of plants requires continual and consistent effort (you must learn about your plants, care about your plants—water, fertilize, make sure your plants are getting enough light; you sometimes have to deal with pests, or clean up spilled dirt in the house, etc.) The parallel lines I see between how learning is being understood by Xunzi and my unending plant journey is helpful. The layers and layers built on top of one another are an accumulation of knowledge, there is always more to learn, but in the learning there is (indeed) a transformation. Perhaps if I were a sage, and studying ritual and not plants, my heart would not just transform, but also complete! Xunzi proceeds to explain that he is not talking about anything easy; the lazy and distracted will not triumph. He offers the example of a carver. If he first tries to carve rotten wood, he will not know how. But if he is single minded, and practices, one day he will be able to “engrave even metal and stone.”22 By analogy Xunzi compares an earthworm and a crab. The legless earthworm is single-minded, its focus is unwavering; by contrast, the multi-limbed crab is 22 23 frenetic and relies on the snakes and eels for finding water. By taking one step at a time, with full focus, the next step will be easier. In repeated action, behavior solidifies. It is by means of consistent words that one’s character becomes trustworthy. It is by continued propagation and care of my plants that approaching “jungle” status in my apartment can even present itself as a possibility. It does not come as a surprise Xunzi moves from this idea of accumulation to ritual. 7. Ritual = the G.o.A.T. Root The world around us repeats visibly each year. As a Californian, I see the sun set in the west over the Pacific. There are no deciduous trees that announce the fall, though there is a subtle movement in where the sun sets on the horizon. In autumn, the sun gets closer in alignment with the view I have from the beach, where I’m standing. After the winter solstice, the sun slowly moves farther to the northwest. Similarly, trees lose their leaves in brilliant fashion, only to have them return again in the spring. Both are a form of ritual. They are a visible expression of action. Nature is a sort of ritual. The expression of it will vary, but the root of it will remain constant. Ritual as a root provides a clear method, though little room for creativity. This rigidity provides something to hold on to, and something to build upon. The roots of ritual extend far beyond the present moment and offer an outline of what is “proper.” You do not need to discern whether or not it is “beneficial” for you–it has stood the test of time. But, it is possible you could accumulate virtue, but not have the proper clothing, or offering or item needed to perform the ritual perfectly. The prescriptiveness of ritual certainly complicates things. Luckily, Xunzi reassures us not to despair and gives us an analogy with sound. The ancients remark on how animals draw near to music and that all sounds are heard. Xunzi reassures us there are no sounds “so small as not to be heard. There is no action so subtle as not to be manifest… If you do good, will it not accumulate? How could it be that none hear of it?”23 Even the Xunzi, “An Exhortation,” p. 5 Xunzi, “An Exhortation,” p. 5 57 �smallest step towards goodness, and virtue, is a step closer. The only “wrong” thing to do is to not take a step. 9. The “End” of this Essay One must remember that the opening claim of Xunzi was that learning must not stop. However, this essay must end, eventually. Yet, what the path of learning looks like, or how one is to know if she is going in the right direction or not, is still ambiguous. Anticipating a good student would wonder this, Xunzi rhetorically asks the beginning and end of learning, only to introduce a parallel distinction between order and purpose. The order of learning begins by reciting the classics, and the end is the study of ritual. In other words the end is an activity–an ongoing effort. Next Xunzi explains the purpose “begins with becoming a well-bred man, and ends with becoming a sage.”24 It is only after knowing the order that the purpose is illuminated. Xunzi provocatively concludes: “to pursue it is to be human, to give it up is to be a beast.”25 In every moment we are alive, the purpose is in the present tense. The pursuit of wisdom is what makes us more than human. Learning is not something that 24 25 26 58 Xunzi, “An Exhortation,” p. 5 Xunzi, “An Exhortation,” p. 5 Xunzi, “An Exhortation,” p. 6 happens to us; it is a life-long task. If we do not spend our lives continually learning, we forsake our humanity. Could the stakes get higher than that? There is not an “end” to learning; there is death, which stops learning, and there is ritual, where learning stops. The difference between a limit (or a stopping point) and an end is subtle, but significant. It is in this way that Xunzi can logically make learning a continual way forward, inseparable from ritual. The vision of learning Xunzi gives us is not pessimistic and offers a relatively clear direction for the most expedient way to learn: “draw near to the right person… And exalting ritual comes second.”26 Who we surround ourselves with, who we “draw near” and “imitate” will determine who we become. Our attachments are paramount; where we are rooted is where we will rise from. Bibliography Xunzi, The Complete Text. Translated By Eric Hutton. Princeton University Press, 2014. �Interviews & Toasts Vanity with Globe - Amelia Taylor Wolfe 5x5” oil on wood 59 �Meet Tutor, Mr André Barbera Shirely Quo sponsibility. But if we are not responsible, i.e., blameworthy, how can it be sin? Sin implies culpability, and so we seem to be suffering the consequences, indeed the punishment for something that we didn’t do. Why must we be descendants of Adam and Eve? Why couldn’t our first parents have been obedient and blameless? We never asked to be descended from Adam and Eve. St. Augustine asserts: “be a man guilty of unbelief, or a perfect believer, he does not in either case beget faithful children, but sinners; in the same way that the seeds, not only of a wild olive, but also of a cultivated one, produce not cultivated olives, but wild ones.” (On Original Sin, ch. 45) 6 December 2024 Mr André Barbera hails from Connecticut where he studied at Wesleyan University. He completed his PhD in 1980 at the University of North Carolina. The title of his thesis was ‘The Persistence of Pythagorean Mathematics in Ancient Musical Thought’. He taught at the University of Notre Dame in Indiana before coming to St John’s College in 1990 to teach at its Annapolis campus. Recently, Mr Barbera completed his latest book, ‘Original Sin and Time’ which explores the idea that God is not bound by time. It is written from a Judeo-Christian perspective. His new book will be available in early 2025. The following blurb was kindly provided by Mr Barbera: We generally don’t like to talk about sin, and we especially don’t like to talk about original sin, a sin for which we deny re60 The vast majority of biblical exegesis, commentary, and preaching on original sin attempts to temper the apparent harshness of this notion. We rush to contextualize the condemnation, historically, psychologically, and spiritually. Things aren’t that bad. But what if they are? This book explores the possibility that each and every one of us is guilty for all misery and woe, for our willful transgressions, for the cruelty of others, and for so-called natural disasters such as earthquakes. We commit the sin of self-reference, we say “I,” and thereby we temporalize ourselves. Original sin and time are the same thing. Although it is a standalone book, it continues a discussion about Augustine which he began in his previous book called ‘On Faith, Works, Eternity, and the Creatures We Are’. In that book, which forms part of a series, Reading Augustine, Mr Barbera considered �the question of faith, how an individual may act faithfully, and what good (if any) is faithful action. Drawing on the letters of the Apostle Paul and the work of philosophical thinkers such as Søren Kierkegaard, Mr Barbera explored numerous aspects of faithful living, from religion, original sin, and tests of faith, to the power of prayer, and even the concept of atheism. Mr Barbera formulated a postulate drawn from Augustine’s Confessions: God is not bound by time. The person of faith, however, is enslaved by time. Mr Barbera has been a tutor at St John’s College for more than 30 years. He teaches in both the undergraduate and graduate program although he is more familiar with the former. He says that it is easier to teach undergraduates because the majority of the students come from similar backgrounds and have similar knowledge whereas the graduate students come from many different backgrounds and different life experiences. However, the undergraduate program is more technically demanding. He completed his PhD in ancient music theory and used to play the piano although he says that he stopped playing the piano because he realised that he was doing it for procrastination rather than enjoyment. In comparison to other colleges and universities, St John’s College does not require tutors to undertake research and publish schol- arly books or journal articles. However, the purpose of a sabbatical is not so much compensatory but preparatory, i.e., to come back refreshed for another teaching year. St. John’s tutors are expected to teach all subjects, regardless of their formal academic backgrounds. This includes classic works in philosophy, literature, political science, psychology, history, religion, economics, mathematics, chemistry, physics, biology, astronomy, music and language. Unlike the graduate program, undergraduates take a class called “laboratory” where they discuss scientific texts in biology, chemistry, physics, astronomy, and genetics, and then recreate iconic experiments in the Junior laboratory. The laboratory is about modern classical physics, e.g., Galileo, Newton etc. Mr Barbera says that there has always been a question mark about whether the laboratory should be part of a traditional liberal arts education but it has been a St John’s tradition ever since the Great Books Program was adopted in 1937. In addition to teaching Mathematics and Natural Science this semester in the graduate program, Mr Barbera is also teaching a preceptorial on Augustine and the City of God in the undergraduate program. 61 �Becoming a Reader Toast to the Tutors (Fall 2024) Charmaine D’Souza To begin, I need to say a couple of things aloud. this—standing in front of people—not so much. I did not consider myself a reader, especially not of the Great Books, before arriving at St. John’s. While some of the undergrads are known to call the GIs “half-Johnnies” based on how much of the Program we read, I consider myself more like 10% Johnny. In my panic, but knowing I have an incredible family, I sent them a one-word message: HELP! That said, I think this judgment by these undergrads is a bit cruel. So, I would like to leave this place giving my peers a new title: GI Johnnies. It is a true and fitting title for most here and aspirational for someone like me. A second note: I haven’t conferred with my graduating peers while preparing for this speech, but I hope my words are a reflection of yours as well. Now, with that said... Most people in my circles back home try to resolve their midlife crisis by purchasing a luxury motorcycle or a weekend at a 7-star resort. I feel fortunate that the lockdown, though under unfortunate circumstances, gave me the chance to pause, take stock, and realize that those sources of instant gratification and/or bandages would not give me my answers. I needed to step away from the noise and contemplate what it truly means to live a well-lived life. When Mr. Boyle asked me to raise a toast to our tutors a couple of days ago, I was deeply grateful for the opportunity to express my appreciation. Thank you, Mr. Boyle! And then, in the dark stillness of my bedroom, just before going to sleep that night, I panicked. I love one-to-one conversations and those around the seminar table, but 62 The next morning, my dad responded with a quote: “I must be willing to let go of what I am in order to become what I will be.” Attributions to this source are unclear. Einstein or Lao Tzu—whoever said it—had a point. My dad knows me well. He had a point, too. As I reflected on this quote, I recollected that transformation often requires sacrifice. I had forgotten that for a long time. To become who I am today, I had to let go of the comfort of who I was. To become who I am meant to be, I must let go of the comfort of who I am now. Letting go hasn’t meant abandoning my identity; instead, it’s been about unearthing and letting go of outdated beliefs that no longer serve me—allowing them to wash away. Holding too tightly to principles— like Creon—or to ideas of my current self, including my habits, fears, and even my successes, had become invisible traps. Today, I see I am better for the letting go. What felt like a sacrifice isn’t truly lost; instead, it has become the foundation of my becoming—the beginning of knowledge— of an education. This journey has required trust. This journey required faith in myself, confidence in my adaptability, and reliance on our community of learners and teachers. To all my peers in the classroom and at the GI, from Kashya Boretsky, a classmate in my first semester to her spouse, Stephen Borsum, a classmate in my last one, thank you! �As for the teachers, they have appeared in the form of each book and every tutor here at St. John’s. Mr. Jeffrey Smith’s contagious enthusiasm at our Politics & Society tutorial table ignited my passion for Aristotle’s Nicomachean Ethics. Please remember that was my first tutorial. Aristotle. The Ethics. What a start to a master’s program for a non-reader! Through our sessions, I realized that society begins with the self, then family, followed by neighbors, the city, and beyond. I learned I had no business trying to change the world if I couldn’t get the first three— self, family, and neighbor—right. Euclid with Mr. Crockett taught me that the difference between things being equal and congruent isn’t just foundational in mathematics but also in life. Discerning when something needs to align perfectly with my expectations, goals, and desires, and when equal is good enough, is invaluable in the pursuit of a well-lived life. And then, there is Mr. Braithwaite. In the wise words of Kung Fu Panda, “When the student is ready, the teacher will appear.” We began this semester with me embodying the role of the stubborn, ignorant comrade in Hipparchus. May I say, I played that role exceptionally well. But that’s not why I came to St. John’s. My hope is that I have let go enough to now resemble the comrade in Minos—still flawed, still learning, but a work in progress. A quick side note: Over Thanksgiving a couple of weeks ago, I visited Seneca Rocks in West Virginia. At one of the local stores there, I came across a souvenir mallet with the words etched on the handle: “Hillbilly Attitude Adjuster.” Mr. Braithwaite, thank you for being my very own “attitude adjuster.” Much needed and deeply appreciated. “When the student is ready, the teacher will appear. When the student is truly ready, the teacher will disappear.” I must admit—I am not truly ready. I feel as though my education has only just begun. But life moves forward. That’s the world we live in. Undergraduate studies is four years and Masters two. We quantify it with grades and a certificate and call it education. I can’t. I choose not to. I must see my time at St. John’s as a primer—a foundation for a lifetime of learning. Today’s seminar table can turn into tomorrow’s laptop screen. Not congruent, perhaps, but metaphorically equal. Whether we came here to reflect on life, learn from the Greats, or earn a degree, St. John’s has been our catalyst. While the soul of this college is the Program and the great lives and wisdom we read through it, the beating heart is undoubtedly our tutors. To our tutors, the primers of our education. Cheers! 63 �Like Alyosha Toast to the Tutors (Summer 2024) Emily Price I have spent some time, in the last few weeks, thinking about what it means to say goodbye and how to do it well--the closing of a chapter. At the start of a journey, we need the courage to begin. When we meet obstacles, we muster courage to face them. But saying goodbye takes courage as well. on without me. If I clench my fist around this gift, I will lose what I have, it will slip through my fingers. It is a thing to be held with an open palm. St. John’s has been a haven for me—for many of us. A golden hour—sunlight illuminating the world, showing us its glory for a few sacred moments. On this campus, pretense is disposed with. Careful reading is expected. Sincerity is rewarded. We are learners, listeners. St. John’s is a world we hoped might exist, somewhere. But which of us dared to hope we’d find it? Or that we’d be invited inside? In such a place you could linger forever. I wish I could. But, like Alyosha, most of us cannot stay within these walls. We’re sent back into the world. Monday morning comes, and our lives and our work stretch out before us. To say goodbye takes courage. It is you, dear tutors, who have taught me this. For a seminar is just such a beautiful, delicate thing, and you are masters at holding it gently. How easy it would be to have an agenda, to demand a particular outcome. To give the equation or spoil the ending. But you know that each of us must see for herself, and so you content yourselves with a subtle task--balancing the ecosystem of the classroom. You nudge rather than mandate. You redirect by modeling inquiry. With self-restraint you allow a conversation to fumble its way toward insight. And because of your work—your forbearance and humility—you preserve a space where students like me may come to meet the great minds of the past for ourselves. My St. John’s education is gift. I cannot demand it continue beyond its bounds. I cannot grudge the rest of you for continuing Thank you for offering me this gift. I will treasure it and try to hold it with an open palm. 64 Whoever teaches us how to orient to things as beautiful and delicate as a goodbye? �What’s a Eureka Moment you had in class? selected responses from students Reading Aristotle’s Ethics, I was appreciating the balance and symmetry he was describing between virtues and vices, but was worried that often referring to “how a virtuous man would do it” was either tautological, or at least left the reader at sea. But at some point I considered that this wasn’t (only) a philosophical treatise to be understood or judged on its logical coherence, but as Aristotle said, something to aid us in actually becoming more virtuous. When I considered his model as a guide to iterative consideration of my actions and desires, I realized that I have always had the experience of having a chance of being a ‘good man.’ And now I had a way to consider and refine, over time, what the content of a ‘virtuous person’ was. I also realized that it’s being dependent on, and also something greater than the sum of individual virtues, meshed with a sense I’ve always had, but had never put into words. In Lobschevski’s 18th theorem: He rotates an angle that, once moved, maintains its original inclination. This ability to move while staying equal was predicted in a previous essay of mine, so when I got to Theorem 18 I was doing backflips. Alexander Bram, MALA, Both Campuses I took a Preceptorial over TS Eliot’s poetry. It wasn’t a particular moment, but rather a collection of moments when I would pause in the middle of class and wonder at the fact that we had already talked about a poem for more than an hour and there was still so much more to say. Day 1 attending class I remember thinking, “….so they actually want to know what I think?”. Day 2 was, “….am I actually thinking about this right?” and Day 3 thinking, “….it doesn’t matter what I think as long as I’m thinking about it!”. Doing geometry without numbers was a major aha! moment as well. Joseph Griego, MALA, Santa Fe My entire career here has been a series of aha! moments, such that the totality is more in view now and specific moments recede. To no longer worry that I don’t know, to feel a joy in seizing with others on a delicate moment to find something new, to hear those possibilities and to help birth them, that is thing I live for. Amelia Wolfe, MALA, Annapolis By giving very short and (at longest) relatively short reading assignments, the GI program encourages rereading. I sometimes read passages three times before class. It took many readings - but eventually, sitting there and reading yet again, I finally understood what Lobachevksi must have meant by asserting that the sum of the angles of a triangle MAY be less than π. Peter Daub, MALA, Annapolis Stacey Rains, MALA, Both Campuses I can describe one of my first experiences of this. It was a comment Ms. Schwartz made during a discussion of the Iliad that had to do with the rejection of one’s own humiliation or shame and how that is the genesis of so much conflict, confusion, and even war. Karen Kohut, MALA, Low Residency, Santa Fe Ned Walpin, EC, Santa Fe 65 �Thanks to Our Contributors Stafford Wood Santa Fe ‘25 Amelia Taylor Wolfe Annapolis ‘26 Travis Kyker Annapolis ‘25 Jesse Wood Santa Fe ‘26 Charles Edward Chapin Santa Fe ‘26 Michael Vigil Santa Fe ‘25 Tova Gannana Santa Fe ‘26 George Kalandadze Annapolis ‘26 Rachel Brown Santa Fe ‘26 Aaron Knight Santa Fe ‘26 James Paul Rogers Santa Fe ‘26 Deana Moss Sante Fe ‘25 Gus Kraus Santa Fe ‘25 Stephen Borsum Annapolis ‘25 Cynthia Crane Annapolis ‘25 Shirely Quo Annapolis ‘25 Paul Harland-White Annapolis ‘24 Emily Price Annapolis ‘24 Charmaine D'Souza Annapolis ‘24 Haley Prickett Sante Fe Laszlo J. Boesze Annapolis �67 � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Colloquy Description An account of the resource A student-run journal for the Graduate Institute community of St. John's College in Annapolis, Maryland. The issues feature essays, art, poetry, interviews, and more. Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Annapolis, MD Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource St. John's College Greenfield Library Text A resource consisting primarily of words for reading. Examples include books, letters, dissertations, poems, newspapers, articles, archives of mailing lists. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre Text. Original Format The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data pdf Page numeration Number of pages in the original item. 65 pages Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Colloquy, Fall 2024 Description An account of the resource Volume 15 of Colloquy, published in Fall 2024. The theme of the issue is On Being. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Bucca (Editor) Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available St. John's College Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Annapolis, MD Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 2025-02 Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource St. John's College owns the rights to this publication. Type The nature or genre of the resource text Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource pdf Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived English Subject The topic of the resource St. John's College (Annapolis, Md.)--Periodicals Language A language of the resource English Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context Colloquy_Fall2024_v10 Graduate Institute