Tuesday, March 23, 2004

How to read poetry

Remember, oh man, that thou art dust,
And unto dust thou shalt return

Dante was the most complete poet who ever wrote. Not only does he write one of the five poems reasonably qualifying for discussion as the best poem ever, but throughout this poem he provides amazing practical guidance. I believe sincerely, for example, that Dante's Purgatorio is one of the best books ever written on how to teach.

But in this entry, I want to show how, in the crucial 14th canto of the Purgatorio, Dante teaches his reader how to read poetry. To do so, he gives us two characters who are blinded by having their eyes stitched shut with wires as punishment for envy. They know someone is before them, but they don't know who. So they ask.

This whole passage in Dante is a meditation in how to respond to poetry, so I would urge the reader of this blog to read this canto with the purpose of learning to read poetry. Here I want to draw your attention to one important element.

Dante is asked to identify himself and where he is from (good background information for most poems). He responds by describing where he is from indirectly, never naming either his city (Florence) or the river on which it was built (the Arno). The "readers" (remember they are blind) discuss it among themselves. One says to Dante, "If, with my understanding, I have seized your meaning properly, you mean the Arno." The other responds, "Why did he hide that river's name?"

The genius of Dante is to hide so much in those two statements that unless we do what he teaches us to do we won't even see what he has done. It is common for poems to say a great deal more in one line than appears at first. One might even argue that that is precisely what makes a poem a poem. So how do we see to the "deeper meanings"?

First, we use our understanding to figure out the literal meaning of what was not stated clearly. Then we ask the critical question: Why did the poet not simply say it? Another way of saying this is, "What does the poet accomplish by speaking indirectly?"

In Dante's case, he accomplishes a great deal. First, he instructs us (as an aside, really) in how to read his poem (and at a crucial point, I might add). Second, he has something to say about the Arno and its occupants that was better said through silence. Says the "reader" who seems to know what is going on: "I do not know; but it is right for such a valley's name to perish."

To see why, read the Purgatorio. But note the first words: I do not know. When we read poetry, the precise and exact reason intended by the author is important but not the critical point. The author of any great literature is trying to get us to speculate, to move, to arouse the intellect to reason. When the student hands in an essay, the important thing is the quality of thought that went into it, not whether he anticipated the teacher's desired answer.

So when we read a poem, we should first take the time to speculate about what can loosely be called the allegorical interpretaton of the imagery. Then we should ask what the poet was able to say indirectly that he couldn't have said directly.

An example: In canto XIII, line 16 Dante has Virgil say:

Oh gentle light, through trust in which I enter here
on this new path...

The "gentle light" is the sun. So why not say, "sun"? Is it just because it is prettier? There is that benefit, but to reduce poetry to ornamentation is to disconnect beauty from truth, and that simply isn't a good idea. No, I the blind reader speculate, he calls it "gentle light" because he wants to communicate confidence in its reliability. He also wants Dante the pilgrim to see how Virgil the teacher (a gentle light himself) is dependent on the light given by God through common grace.

Now you speculate.

The foregoing is a hint - a shadow - of what Dante offers on how to read poetry and how to teach. Read this poem. Talk about it. Live with it. It will feed you for a lifetime.

Friday, March 19, 2004

My favorite blog to date (and they mention CiRCE!)

Memento, homo, quia pulvis es,
Et in pulverem reverteris

Joel Brondos is linked by World Magazine and has a wonderful blog to visit: Collarbones. Check it out and be ready for depth and levity.

Pagan Literature and my toe

The early Christians rejected pagan mythology, but they saw in the works of the immortal poets a greatness of artistic expression that they could not deny. This led to two great literary developments: one, a formal understanding of poetry and the arts to a degree that the Greeks and Romans never seem to have reached, and two, a psychological approach to the arts that the Greeks and Romans never could have attained.

I did something this morning I am willing to bet puts me in elite - or at least unique - company. I cut my toe shaving. Yes, you read that correctly (at least you did if you read what I wrote). I cut my toe shaving.

How can this be? you ask. Me too.

First, some background. I have only cut myself shaving three times in my life. The first time I have forgotten. The second time happened in 1983 the morning after I had boasted to someone that I had only cut myself shaving once. Then came this morning.

I shave in the shower because the hot water makes the skin and whiskers more receptive to a razor. This morning there was water in the bath, so I bent down in the absent minded way one does things when one is shaving to rinse the shaving cream off the razor. In so doing, I dragged my razor across my toe.

And so, I cut my toe shaving.

There is, no doubt, a deep allegory to this post, but you will have to discover it because it is beyond me.

Wednesday, March 17, 2004

CiRCE teacher training

Memento, home, quia pulvis es,
Et in pulverem reverteris

The board of directors of the CiRCE Institute met over the weekend and made some significant decisions. The biggest of them was that to fulfill our mission I need to devote my attention whole-heartedly to consulting with classical schools.

I'm very excited about this, because I have come to realize more and more clearly that many people are enthusiastic about the classical vision, but they are seeing how hard it is to implement and even, at a certain level, to understand.

Teachers tell me that CiRCE teacher training has enabled them to take the vision or idea of classical education and implement it in the classroom. They show a heightened clarity of purpose, increased confidence as they enter the classroom, and strategic effectiveness in their preparations.

Heads of school tell me their schools are more united than ever because the whole staff sees where the children need to go and each teacher understands his role in moving them there. When the end is understood, it becomes possible to unify the whole curriculum in its pursuit of that end.

People from all levels of involvement tell me that they better understand what classical Christian education is, what it looks like, and how to do it.

CiRCE teacher training simplifies the horrible complexity of modern instruction, which is driven by the insatiable appetite for ever more precise particularities. The net effect of this love of particularities is that no two students have anything in common and the curriculum crumbles in the hands of the bewildered teacher.

Classical education, on the other hand, is rooted in a love of what we share as humans and a recognition of an actual, universal, God-given human nature. It seeks out the universals and seeks to perfect them by identifying their ends - and the means to those ends.

We've worked with over 30 schools and 500 teachers in the last eight years. If you would like to join them or to learn more about our teacher training, call us at (704) 321-2929 visit the web site at www.circeinstitute.org or E-mail us at ttinfo@circeinstitute.org.

Tuesday, March 16, 2004

Gene Edward Veith does it Again

Memento, homo, quia pulvis es,
Et in pulverem reverteris

My teacher, Dr. Veith, has done more to explain art to the Christian world than anybody since Francis Schaeffer. The latest issue of World Magazine runs a cover article by Dr. Veith on the Christian approach to the arts. His meditations lead to some surprising discoveries and insights. Read it at their web site by clicking this link to World Magazine.

Friday, March 12, 2004

Western Civ and ed

Memento, homo, quia pulvis es,
Et in pulverem reverteris

Western civilization, which is not what we see around us, was built on education.

Education, in turn, is built on definition, which is to say, it is build on the idea that words can be defined.

Refusal to define or commitment to the idea that it is impossible to define marks the triumph of barbarism and the end of what can honestly be called western civilization. When this refusal is the mental habit of a society, that society is not civilized.

That is why Socrates, for example, and the church fathers, spent so much time defining and defending the validity of definition and the necessity to define.

Logic is the second level and everything I just said about definition also applies to logic.

Thursday, March 11, 2004

Still Practical

Remember, oh man, that thou art dust
And unto dust thou shalt return

I think I figured out this idea of being practical. Something is practical if it tells me how to do something I want to do.

That's why I frequently find the discussion frustrating. Too often we want to solve an immediate problem without looking beyond it to the purpose behind the activity that contains the problem. If a teacher, for example, is struggling to teach a child spelling, the problem might well arise from the theory of spelling that he is following. What good will it do if I teach him how to use an ineffective program more efficiently.

In short, practicality involves understanding truth, not just doing things. It involves asking why and what just as much as it involves asking how.

So at our conference we spend a lot of time thinking about what and why so as to make sure the how matters.

Because we are committed to true practicality.

I hope that helps.

Wednesday, March 10, 2004

The Practical Man

Remember, oh man, that thou art dust
And unto dust thou shalt return

So (to continue from yesterday) yes, the conference is going to be practical. Very practical. More practical than any conference I have ever attended in my whole life.

And no, it isn't going to be practical. It won't teach you how to solve the specific problem that you are trying to solve right now on your lawn mower.

Some people read the foregoing and what I wrote yesterday and conclude somehow that I am opposed to practical instruction. This is incorrect. I grew up in Wisconsin. You don't have time in Wisconsin to live a theoretical/academic life. When you aren't digging out from under the snow you are trying to fix your air conditioner. People from Wisconsin are practical.

The whole point of the last two days reflections is to say that people mean a lot of different things when they talk about being practical. The demands of life must be met - not to survive, but to be sanctified. Every act gains its value from the idea that motivates it. But there is nothing more practical about a made bed than there is about a beautiful poem.

Let's be practical. And let's begin being practical by figuring out what we mean by being practical. That way we can actually be practical when we are being practical.

Tuesday, March 09, 2004

On Being Practical

Remember, oh man, that thou art dust;
And unto dust thou shalt return.

I had a call the other day about our conference in which the caller asked if it would be practical. I have to admit, after 40 years I haven't figured out how to answer this question. What do people mean by it? It's like when my mother used to say, "Do you need that candy (or whatever)?"

Need it for what?

In just the same way: practical for what?

Was it Chesterton that said, "there is nothing more practical than a good idea"?

I can teach you how to use Shurley grammar or The Writing Road to Reading or Saxon math or any number of other programs. Heck, if I can't teach you how to do a program, give me a week. Or two hours usually. Surely that isn't what people mean by practical.

Maybe they mean we have practice sessions. Technically, that would be the difference between practice and theory. So maybe people want hands on practice. When I do in-house teacher training I try to provide this, though it does take more time. It's hard to do at a conference though.

But then, come to think of it, we provide a lot of hands on practice, because teaching is the communication of an idea and we have lots of discussion time. That's the best hands-on practice you can have for teaching.

Maybe they mean "are you going to talk about practical things?" And this I can't answer because I don't know what different people consider practical. For example, one might mean classroom management. Well, yes we will be talking about that at this year's conference. But what is practical about classroom management if what you are teaching efficiently isn't worth teaching. We're going to talk about justice. What could be more practical?

Another might mean college admissions. Dr. John Seel gave a great talk about that last year. You can purchase it through the web site if you are interested. But what could be less practical than going to college for the wrong reasons?

Maybe they mean something you can do with your hands without thinking about it. But if they mean that they are so far removed from thinking about education that they should be removed from the classroom.

I guess what they must mean is that practical things are things we do and theoretical things are things we think about. That's why I get lost. We're talking about education. Education has to do with thinking. How can you talk about the act of thinking without talking about thinking about thinking?

Education isn't rocket science. It is far less predictable, reliable, or precise. It is far more complicated, poetic, and artistic. If we get the theory wrong, our practice doesn't stand a chance. So we are going to talk about very practical things at our conference.

Things like:
What is justice?
How can I become just?
How can I establish justice?

What could be more practical?

Saturday, March 06, 2004

Conference Update

Remember, oh man, that thou art dust;
And unto dust thou shalt return.

We are days away from final confirmation of the precise location of our summer conference! It looks like Christian Brothers University will be the place. Click on the link and you can see their facilities (if it doesn't work, the url is www.cbu.edu/Resources/map/). We won't have the marble atrium, but we'll have diamonds in its place. The only kind of diamonds that matter, that is.

Baseball diamonds.

Bring your glove.

And a swimming suit.

Take a tour of the campus by clicking on the link above. Looking at the buildings and the years they were built is an architectural lesson in itself!

On March 8 we will announce the ricipient of this year's Paideia Prize for lifetime contribution to classical education.

David Hicks.
Dr. Louise Cowan.

And now...

Speaking of the conference, my friends at Memoria Press advertised the CD set from the 2003 conference in their catalogue and they tell me they are back-ordered. If you haven't ordered a set yet, you will want to think seriously about doing so. Go to the web site at www.circeinstitute.org and click on the resources page if you'd like to see what's available or to order directly from us. You'll see a list of the extraordinary speakers and the things they spoke on.

Five talks you mustn't miss:

Ken Myers: A Beautiful Spirit; the Grace of Humility
Evan Wilson: Education to Order the Soul
Dr. Anthony Gordon: Why the Poor Need the Classics
Tracy Lee Simmons: Climbing Parnassus
Dr. Louise Cowan: Paideia Prize Speech; Beauty and Suffering

Friday, March 05, 2004

Great Schools

If you want to see the web site for a great school, visit Roxbury Latin School and read around.

John Eliot founded Roxbury Latin in 1645 in Roxbury, Massachusettes. 2004 marks the 400th anniversary of Eliot's birth.



Remember, Oh man, that thou art dust
And unto dust thou shalt return

A Hymn for Lent:

Lord Jesus, think on me
And purge away my sin;
From earthborn passions set me free
And make me pure within.

Lord Jesus, think on me
With care and woe opprest;
Let me Thy loving servant be,
And taste Thy promised rest.

Lord Jesus, think on me
Amid the battle's strife;
In all my pain and misery
Be thou my health and life.

Lord Jesus, think on me,
Nor let me go astray;
Through darkness and perplexity
Point Thou the heavenly way.

Lord Jesus, think on me,
When flows the tempest high;
When on doth rush the enemy,
O Saviour, be thou nigh.

Lord Jesus, think on me,
That, when the flood is past,
I may the eternal brightness see,
And share Thy joy at last.

Bp. Synesius, 375-430
Translated by A.W. Chatfield

If you aren't engaged in a lenten discipline, may I make a suggestion?

Read one canto each day of the Purgatorio. It is all about what lent is all about.

An all too brief excerpt from Mandelbaum's translation:
Why have you let your mind get so entwined,
My master said, that you have slowed your walk?
Why should you care about what's whispered here?
Come, follow me, and let these people talk:
Stand like a sturdy tower that does not shake...


Wednesday, March 03, 2004

Remember that you are dust;
And to dust you shall return

In the end, aesthetics and ethics are identical.

To begin with, they are analogous to each other.

The question of aesthetics is the question of propriety.
The question of ethics is the question of propriety.
Propriety is determined by the nature and purpose of the activities and artifacts.

The bridge between ethics and aesthetics is manners.

Of all human expression, the one continual question we need to be asking is this: Is it appropriate?

That doesn't make it easy to be just - just possible.

Monday, March 01, 2004

Remember that you are dust;
And to dust you shall return.

Thomas Oden has a bold new book on the market called "The Rebirth Of Orthodoxy." To see what his thinking is like, read this interview with Michael Horton in Modern Reformation.

Secularism is dying. Modernism is post. What's next? Temporary new challengers and one permanent answer: the gospel in all its blessed fulness.