I'm becoming a Traherne junkie. I can't believe this guy -- I'm actually speechless. I'm not even sure what to say here. Just read this. Then read it again. Oh, my.
****
TO LOVE one person with a private love, is poor and miserable: to love all is glorious. To love all persons in all ages, all angels, all kings and all peasants, and every person in all worlds with a natural intimate familiar love, as if Him alone, is blessed.
This makes a man effectually blessed in all worlds, a delightful lord of all things, a glorious friend to all persons, a concerned person in all transactions, and ever present with all affairs. So that he must ever be filled with company, even in the midst of nations, ever joyful, and ever blessed.
The greatness of this man's love no man can measure; it is stable like the sun, it endureth forever as the moon, it is a faithful witness in Heaven. It is stranger and more great than all private affections. It representeth every person in the light of eternity and loveth him with the love of all worlds. With a love conformable to God's, guided to the same ends and founded upon the same causes. Which however lofty and divine it is, is ready to humble itself into the dust to save the person beloved. And by how much the more glorious and sublime it is, is so much the more sweet and truly delightful. Majesty and pleasure occuring together.
Traherne
The Fourth 'Century', number 69
***
I mean -- !!!!!!!
And there's a ton more where that came from. But I have to sleep at some point. Goodnight.
Sunday, October 09, 2005
Tuesday, October 04, 2005
Traherne
Okay, friends, this night I have discovered Thomas Traherne, and you should too. His "Centuries, Poems and Thanksgivings" (two volumes) have been on our shelves since December 1996 (this I know from the inscription, as the books were given to us by our dear friend Anastassy Brandon Gallaher, to whom hello if he should read this, and thank you!) Amazing what you can find if only you look with fresh eyes at your own bookshelves. Anyway, enjoy these excerpts from the "Centuries" (since I have only been an ardent lover of Traherne for about 45 minutes, I have yet to discover why these little writings are called 'centuries', but it sounds cool anyway) -- I have modernized the spelling from its 17thc form in order for that distraction to be removed (tons of capital letters all over the place; that kind of thing) and the angelic writing to shine through:
This is very strange that God should want, for in him is the fulness of all blessedness: he overfloweth eternally. . .it is incredible, but very plain: Want is the fountain of all his fulness. Want in God is a treasure to us. For had there been no Need he would not have created the world, nor made us, nor manifested his wisdom, nor exercised his power, nor beautified eternity, nor prepared the joys of heaven. But he wanted angels and men, images, companions. And these he had from all eternity.
(First Century, #42)
The brightness and magnificence of the world, which by reason of its height and greatness is hidden from men, is divine and wonderful. It addeth much to the glory of that temple in which we live. Yet it is the cause why men understand it not. They think it too great and wide to be enjoyed. But since it is all filled with the majesty of his glory who dwells in it: and the goodness of the Lord filleth the world, and his wisdom shineth everywhere within and about it. . .we need nothing but open eyes to be ravished like the cherubim.
(First Century, #37)
They are deep instructions that are taken out of hell, and heavenly documents that are taken from above. Upon earth we learn nothing but vanity. Where people dream, and loiter, and wander, and disquiet themselves in vain. . .but do not profit becase they prize not the blessings they have received. To prize what we have is a deep and heavenly instruction. It will make us righteous and serious, wise and holy, divine and blessed. It will make us escape hell and attain heaven.
(First Century, #50)
This is very strange that God should want, for in him is the fulness of all blessedness: he overfloweth eternally. . .it is incredible, but very plain: Want is the fountain of all his fulness. Want in God is a treasure to us. For had there been no Need he would not have created the world, nor made us, nor manifested his wisdom, nor exercised his power, nor beautified eternity, nor prepared the joys of heaven. But he wanted angels and men, images, companions. And these he had from all eternity.
(First Century, #42)
The brightness and magnificence of the world, which by reason of its height and greatness is hidden from men, is divine and wonderful. It addeth much to the glory of that temple in which we live. Yet it is the cause why men understand it not. They think it too great and wide to be enjoyed. But since it is all filled with the majesty of his glory who dwells in it: and the goodness of the Lord filleth the world, and his wisdom shineth everywhere within and about it. . .we need nothing but open eyes to be ravished like the cherubim.
(First Century, #37)
They are deep instructions that are taken out of hell, and heavenly documents that are taken from above. Upon earth we learn nothing but vanity. Where people dream, and loiter, and wander, and disquiet themselves in vain. . .but do not profit becase they prize not the blessings they have received. To prize what we have is a deep and heavenly instruction. It will make us righteous and serious, wise and holy, divine and blessed. It will make us escape hell and attain heaven.
(First Century, #50)
Saturday, September 24, 2005
From that wonderful, strange little book, The Little Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupery
Perhaps you will ask me, "Why are there no other drawings in this book as magnificent and impressive as this drawing of the baobabs?" The reply is simple. I have tried. But with the others I have not been successful. When I made the drawing of the baobabs I was carried beyond myself by the inspiring force of urgent necessity.
***
"Children", I say plainly, "Watch out for the baobabs!"
***
"Children", I say plainly, "Watch out for the baobabs!"
Tuesday, September 20, 2005
Monday, September 19, 2005
Young existentialist girls
Have you been in the bookstore and wondered whether the Ladies' Detective Agency books (Kalahari Typing School for Men, Tears of the Giraffe, etc) by Alexander McCall Smith are any good? Well, they are. Here's a brilliant passage from the third in the series, Morality for Beautiful Girls. If you are short on time or have a weevilesque attention span, just read the last terrifically tongue-in-cheek paragraph on 'existentialism':
Mma Ramotswe knew that there was a great deal of debate about morality, but in her view it was quite simple. In the first place, there was the old Botswana morality, which was simply right. If a person stuck to this, then he would be doing the right thing and need not worry about it. There were other moralities, of course; there were the Ten Commandments, which she had learned by heart at Sunday school in Mochudi all those years ago; these were also right in the same, absolute way. These codes of morality were like the Botswana penal code; they had to be obeyed to the letter. It was no good pretending you were the High Court of Botswana and deciding which parts you were going to observe and wich you were not. Moral codes were not designed to be selective, nor indeed were they designed to be questioned. You could not say that you would observe this prohibition but not that. I shall not commit theft -- certainly not -- but adultery is another matter: wrong for other people, but not for me.
Most morality, thought Mma Ramotswe, was about doing the right thing because it had been identified as such by a long process of acceptance and observance. You simply could not create your own morality because your experience would never be enough to do so. What gives you the right to say that you know better than your ancestors? Morality is for everybody, and this means that the views of more than one person are needed to create it. That was what made the modern morality, with its emphasis on individuals and the working out of an individual position, so weak. If you gave people the chance to work out their morality, then they would work out the version which was easiest for them and which allowed them to do what suited them for as much of the time as possible. That, in Mma Ramotswe's view, was simple selfishness, whatever grand name one gave to it.
Mma Ramotswe had listened to a World Service broadcast on her radio one day which had simply taken her breath away. It was about philosophers who called themselves existentialists and who, as far as Mma Ramotswe could ascertain, lived in France. These French people said that you should live in a way which made you feel real, and that the real thing to do was the right thing too. Mma Ramotswe had listened in astonishment. You did not have to go to France to meet existentialists, she reflected; there were many existentialists right here in Botswana. Note Mokoti, for example. She had been married to an existentialist herslf, without even knowing it. Note, that selfish man who never once put himself out for another -- not even for his wife -- would have approved of existentialists, and they of him. It was very existentialist, perhaps, to go out to bars every night while your pregnant wife stayed home, and even more existentialist to go off with girls -- young existentialist girls -- you met in bars. It was a good life being an existentialist, although not too good for all the other, nonexistentialist people around one.
Mma Ramotswe knew that there was a great deal of debate about morality, but in her view it was quite simple. In the first place, there was the old Botswana morality, which was simply right. If a person stuck to this, then he would be doing the right thing and need not worry about it. There were other moralities, of course; there were the Ten Commandments, which she had learned by heart at Sunday school in Mochudi all those years ago; these were also right in the same, absolute way. These codes of morality were like the Botswana penal code; they had to be obeyed to the letter. It was no good pretending you were the High Court of Botswana and deciding which parts you were going to observe and wich you were not. Moral codes were not designed to be selective, nor indeed were they designed to be questioned. You could not say that you would observe this prohibition but not that. I shall not commit theft -- certainly not -- but adultery is another matter: wrong for other people, but not for me.
Most morality, thought Mma Ramotswe, was about doing the right thing because it had been identified as such by a long process of acceptance and observance. You simply could not create your own morality because your experience would never be enough to do so. What gives you the right to say that you know better than your ancestors? Morality is for everybody, and this means that the views of more than one person are needed to create it. That was what made the modern morality, with its emphasis on individuals and the working out of an individual position, so weak. If you gave people the chance to work out their morality, then they would work out the version which was easiest for them and which allowed them to do what suited them for as much of the time as possible. That, in Mma Ramotswe's view, was simple selfishness, whatever grand name one gave to it.
Mma Ramotswe had listened to a World Service broadcast on her radio one day which had simply taken her breath away. It was about philosophers who called themselves existentialists and who, as far as Mma Ramotswe could ascertain, lived in France. These French people said that you should live in a way which made you feel real, and that the real thing to do was the right thing too. Mma Ramotswe had listened in astonishment. You did not have to go to France to meet existentialists, she reflected; there were many existentialists right here in Botswana. Note Mokoti, for example. She had been married to an existentialist herslf, without even knowing it. Note, that selfish man who never once put himself out for another -- not even for his wife -- would have approved of existentialists, and they of him. It was very existentialist, perhaps, to go out to bars every night while your pregnant wife stayed home, and even more existentialist to go off with girls -- young existentialist girls -- you met in bars. It was a good life being an existentialist, although not too good for all the other, nonexistentialist people around one.
Sunday, September 18, 2005
Friday, September 16, 2005
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