I had decided to suspend, and maybe not resume, writing on my big blog, but it’s my intellectual sandbox, the place where I try out ideas to see how they work out. I have missed that. So gradually I’m resuming, and: here’s a post explaining why Plato’s Republic has the wrong title.
James Reason’s Swiss cheese model of failure, which I learned about from this essay.
James Bradford, one of nine students arrested for reading in the Jackson, MS public library in 1961.
In societies where freedom is under threat, an informed citizen is countercultural and deep reading is an act of resistance. Just as protest and vigilance are essential, so is the ability to read and think. In a would-be autocracy, the autocrat aims to subsume our society’s particular narratives into his master narrative — in which his name fills the headlines, his voice and image dominate the broadcasts, and his airbrushed visage appears on the facades of government. To read a book, however, is to enter a narrative that stands outside the politics-and-media maelstrom. In a would-be autocracy, even a small bookstore — with hundreds of books, classic, recent, and current — is a space of contrary narratives, where truth is recognized as both essential and complicated.
I remember listening to “Bedtime Stories,” Madonna’s 1994 album, and being surprised by a moony track called “Love Tried to Welcome Me,” which contains the lines “But my soul drew back, / Guilty of lust and sin.” This is an unacknowledged but unmistakable nod to George Herbert, one of the most enduring religious poets of the early seventeenth century, who wrote a magnificent poem that begins “Love bade me welcome: yet my soul drew back, / Guilty of dust and sin.” How Herbert, who was an Anglican priest of surpassing gentleness, might have felt about being quoted, three and a half centuries later, by somebody with a Catholic name and a conical bra we shall, alas, never know. The most gratifying irony is that, in changing the mortally ashen “dust” to the cheaper and more obvious “lust,” Madonna proved only that Herbert wrote better lyrics than she did, and I can’t help wishing that she had turned to him more often for guidance both verbal and spiritual. Papa does preach.
The conclusion of Lane’s essay, which I encourage you to read in context, is one of his finest moments — and that’s saying not a little.
Accidental glamour shot
The Republic of Plato, trans. Allan Bloom, from Book VIII:
“Mustn’t it first be told how the transformation from timarchy to oligarchy takes place?”
“Yes.”
“And really,” I said, “the way it is transformed is plain even to a blind man.”
“How?”
“The treasure house full of gold,” I said, “which each man has, destroys that regime. First they seek out expenditures for themselves and pervert the laws in that direction; they themselves and their wives disobey them.”
“That’s likely,” he said.
“Next, I suppose, one man sees the other and enters into a rivalry with him, and thus they made the multitude like themselves.”
“That’s likely.”
“Well, then,” I said, “from there they progress in money-making, and the more honorable they consider it, the less honorable they consider virtue. Or isn’t virtue in tension with wealth, as though each were lying in the scale of a balance, always inclining in opposite directions?”
“Quite so,” he said.
“Surely, when wealth and the wealthy are honored in a city, virtue and the good men are less honorable.”
“Plainly.”
“Surely, what happens to be honored is practiced, and what is without honor is neglected.”
“That’s so.”
“Instead of men who love victory and honor, they finally become lovers of money-making and money; and they praise and admire the wealthy man and bring him to the ruling offices, while they dishonor the poor man.”
“Certainly.”
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John Thorn on the history of baseball’s strike zone.