I Hate to Say Goodbye...

I go to the library probably twice a week.  I accepted a long time ago that I would never live long enough to read everything that I wanted to read, but I still like surrounding myself by books.  It’s a holdover from my childhood that books are among the few friends that will never abandon me; it’s always me that will abandon them.

This was the case the other day.  I went through the library’s shelves touring my favorite spot: The Fiction.  I love The Fiction.  I’ve grown up with The Fiction.  The Fiction has gotten me through a lot in my life.  But as I was browsing over the titles, I felt a little knot in my stomach and soon a weariness hung over me like a cloud.

Looking at the titles wasn’t filling me up.  If anything, I was feeling emptier.  Opening books up and reading what was in there wasn’t doing the trick.  I thought something would spark my interest, but the fire wasn’t there.

And it came as no surprise.  I’ve noticed a pattern in my life: every three to four years, I approach Burn Out.  I’ve fed so much mental and emotional energy into reading that I find myself spent and have to take some time away from the books to recharge my batteries.  After a respite of a couple months, I plunge back into reading with a vengeance.

This is my normal solution, except that this time, I find myself rather hating it.  Reading is my one true gifted talent I feel I can claim in this life.  I’ve been reading since I was two, I could read at a college level before high school, and although I have slowed down a lot since becoming an adult, I wouldn’t be surprised if I found that I go through 70 books a year—at least.

It’s a talent, though, that I have to exercise.  Taking a break would mean losing that skill.  So I’ve examined why I’m approaching Burn Out again.  I can’t accept that it’s entirely because I’ve poured too much energy in the one thing.  I think what’s really happening is that the stuff I’ve been reading has just started to bore me.  This is especially true with The Fiction.

I say this with some melancholy.  But I can’t deny that The Fiction isn’t doing much for me.  It’s time to turn to The Nonfiction.

The Nonfiction, however, is daunting.  There’s so much there.  One minute I’m looking at military history, and then I move to the biographies where there are a dozen fascinating names I want to know more about and will have time for none of them.  And then there are the arts, the sciences, the philosophies, the current events, the mathematics, and even nutrition.  It goes on and on, subjects I want to learn now but have no time for.  The question comes, where do I start?

The question came to me again this last Wednesday night.  I was at the LDS Institute of Religion, waiting for a class on “The Principles of Leadership” to begin, and naturally made my way into their library.  It’s much smaller than my local public library, but lining the walls in that small room are many challenging volumes ranging from the religious to the regular academic and even to its own fiction section.

These books old and worn.  I stood there looking at these volumes and imagined the months and probably years many of them had sat on their shelves, untouched and unknown by all the students and random walk-in who looked at them.  I wanted to cry, “What’s the reason for your existence?  Why are you here if you’ll never get read?  It certainly won’t be me who reads all of you.  I’ll never have the time!  Even if I did, I wouldn’t have the strength.”

After much meditation, there were two series in that library that had my attention.

The first series is a 54-volume set called Great Books of the Western World.  I’ve been aware of this set since I was in the eighth grade.  It was in my local library that I visited; I even borrowed a volume or two over the years but I never got far into them.

Great Books is a collection of essential classical writers from ancient time through the Nineteenth Century.  It has works from Homer, Euclid, Socrates, Plato, Shakespeare, Dante, Melville, Freud, Darwin, the American Papers, and on and on.  They’re part of what the editors considered to be the most notable voices in what they call the Great Conversation.  It’s all literature that used to be required reading in order to be considered civilized, or at least educated about the fundamentals of our world.  These are names that have crossed my way before but I’ve never looked into what they actually say.  I think it’s past time for me to become involved in the Great Conversation.

The other series is related to my religion.  There’s a 26-volume set called the Journal of Discourses.  It’s a selection of sermons and talks given by the leaders of the Latter-day Saint church during the Nineteenth Century.  I’ve had some familiarity with these in the past, read a couple things here and there, but I’ve never actually poured myself into them as I have the past couple weeks.

While this is not required reading to understand any of my church’s doctrine (all of that can be found in our scriptures) I’m finding it indispensable in connecting to a Mormon culture that is both familiar and alien to ours today.  The doctrine is all the same, and yet the way they applied and presented it to each other shows many surprising and yet moving things about the society they lived in and the trials they had to face, as well as how the truths gave them comfort.  It’s a very moving and personal experience for me.

Between these two series, that makes 80 books to work my way through, and these are no lightweights.  This is a full-on commitment that will take me at least three years to get through, because this time I’m not reading for mere pleasure; my aim is comprehension.

They won’t be the only books I read during this time.  Besides my daily scripture study, I have books I’ve borrowed from uncles that I still have to finish.  I have a monthly book club and ever since I joined, there’s been only one book I never finished (and which I feel no sorrow over.)  A couple books I put hold on the library I still feel are worth my time to read when they finally come.  And when I get my hands on anything by Hugh Nibley, the world stops.

But the truth is, these 80 books have become Priority #1.  I don’t know if I’ll be able to consider myself truly educated anymore unless I put forth the effort and lift myself to new heights of knowledge I’ve never dared reach for in the past.

Between this new challenge, plus my never-ending cycle of schooling, I knew that I was going to put this blog back on hiatus.  I planned to update once a month, probably on the last Saturday of each month, at least until I was on my way to a career.

After tonight, I realize that it won’t just be a hiatus.  This is going to be goodbye.

I’m prone to taking long walks after school, both as a way to clear my head and also to put in the only exercise I seem capable of anymore.

No matter how far I go or how late it gets, I always find my way to a park not far from home.  I have to stop there because I love this park.  I love the trees, the playground that’s there, the families that come there, and the solitude when I’m the only one present.  Often, there are few things I love better than lying on my back and gazing up at the stars.  It’s one of the few places in the city itself where the lights don’t quite obliterate the universe above.  It looks quite beautiful.

It was dark before I made it back to the park so it was the perfect time to look at the sky.  It’s almost a full moon tonight, and seeing the moonlight shine through the clouds was simply sublime.  I could never capture that sight in a photograph and it killed me that there was no one around to share that moment with.

As I wondered at how lovely the moon was, this thought impressed my mind:  Do you want a terrestrial glory or a celestial one?

Perhaps nobody outside the Latter-day Saint community will appreciate this question, but I’ll try to explain.

In Paul’s first letter to the Corinthians, you’ll find him talking about the resurrection from the dead in chapter 15:

“There are also celestial bodies, and bodies terrestrial: but the glory of the celestial is one, and the glory of the terrestrial is another.  There is one glory of the sun, and another glory of the moon, and another glory of the stars: for one star differeth from another star in glory.”  (1 Cor. 15:40-41)

Further revelation given through Joseph Smith elaborates on these glories as being part of where all mankind will someday end up.  The glories of the sun, moon, and stars are symbols of what are called the celestial, terrestrial, and telestial glories, respectively.

There’s a lot of concern about the eternal worlds where we eventually end up.  The lowest, the telestial, is the place where those “who are liars, and sorcerers, and adulterers, and whoremongers, and whosoever loves and makes a lie” go.  I don’t feel worried about going there.  While I’m confident that there will still be temptations that will continue to plague me in the future that could set me down there, I know my heart and frankly, I’ve worked too hard to be an honest and good man to ever want to descend down that path.  I have no love for that destiny.

The question that came to me tonight, Do you want a terrestrial glory or a celestial one? is a rather unsettling one for me.  What unsettles me is that I didn’t have an immediate answer.

I know what my answer should be.  The whole doctrine of my church with its accompanying rituals, covenants, and practices are all designed to lead us to the celestial glory, the one whose glory is typical of the sun.  It’s not that the terrestrial glory is a bad place.  Like the moon is brighter than the stars—far brighter, in fact—so too is the terrestrial glory greater than the telestial.  The scriptures say this about the terrestrial inhabitants:

“Behold, these are they who died without law; and also they who are the spirits of men kept in prison, whom the Son visited, and preached the gospel unto them, that they might be judged according to men in the flesh; who received not the testimony of Jesus in the flesh, but afterwards received it.  These are they who are honorable men in the earth, who were blinded by the craftiness of men.  These are they who receive of his glory, but not of his fullness.  These are they who receive of the presence of the Son, but not of the fullness of the Father.  Wherefore, they are bodies terrestrial, and not bodies celestial, and differ in glory as the moon differs from the sun.  These are they who are not valiant in the testimony of Jesus; wherefore, they obtain not the crown over the kingdom of God.”  (D&C 76:72-79)

Again, it’s not a bad place to end up.  It’s just not a fullness, as it says.  They receive the presence of the Son, or Jesus Christ, but not the fullness of the Father.

In other scriptures, we learn that what determines our final placement in the eternities is our willingness to obey certain laws, or the laws that govern each kingdom of glory.

“For he who is not able to abide the law of a celestial kingdom cannot abide a celestial glory.  And he who cannot abide the law of a terrestrial kingdom cannot abide a terrestrial glory.”  (D&C 88:22-23)

I know the laws required for the celestial glory.  I’ve been taught them all my life.  But looking over these scriptures, I find myself saying that I know I’m an honorable man, but do I find myself blinded by the craftiness of men?  In other words, am I convinced to follow paths that aren’t completely in line with the gospel I’ve been taught?  And also, am I truly valiant in my testimony of Jesus?

It boils down to, if I were to die now and move onto the eternities, would I be comfortable going into a celestial glory, or would I feel more at home living the laws of only the terrestrial realm?  It’s a serious question that I never considered I would have, and yet it seems that this is something I need to devote more of my life to answering.

I suppose that with this new “quest” of self-discovery, I have to make some sacrifices and remove things that would distract me from these new goals of mine.  Reading these two series and also working to answer my question will occupy much of my time, and that means letting go of what has been so important to me in the past.

Including this blog.

It’s never had a large audience, and I honestly never expected it to.  But I know the names of several of you that have, family and friends, and I’d like to say thank you for thinking that what I had to say was worth taking time out of your day to read.

It’s been over two years since my first writing, and with this, my total posts will be 207.  I don’t know the total number of words that amounts to, but I’m sure it would at least be the length of one book.  That’s incredible to me.

I’ll miss this.  I really will.  But I’m glad to be ending this project on my own terms, and I’m rather excited to see what the next step is going to take.

I wish you all the best.  Really, I do.

Another Nod to EdX

I’ve been taking several EdX classes for a while and it is fascinating how much there is to learn.  Because of the number of classes I take and my limited amount of time, I do little more than audit the classes.

I watch all the videos, as they’re my source of dictation.  I should probably be working from more school approved sources, but I can’t bring myself to do it.  I read as much literature as I can from the required and recommended readings, but again, time is limited.  I don’t always quite make it.  The tests and assignments, though, I generally don’t bother.  I really don’t have the time for those and is the main reason that I don’t quite get any certificates in any of the classes.

If you are looking to further improve your education but don’t have a lot of time or inclination to pay, do give www.edx.org a try.  And if you’d like, I have a few recommendations.

Harvard’s Professor Gregory Nagy (pronounced NAHJ) teaches a course called “The Ancient Greek Hero.”  I wasn’t a complete dunce when I signed up for this.  I’d read The Odyssey twice and The Iliad in college; gone through several of Socrates’ plays in high school (including all the Oedipus stories); and I’d even dabbled a bit in Herodotus, albeit not very much.

I thought I had a grasp on what these stories were about.  Professor Nagy taught me I had no clue.

You can’t look at these works from the context of our culture.  You have to look at them in light of ancient Greece’s culture.  Achilles wasn’t just a character in a war story, he was a vital part of their belief system.  The ancient Greeks saw him as an object of worship.  They wrote songs about him, he was part of their rituals, their myth cycle, and even as an example of how to achieve an unwilting glory.

It took taking the entire course for me to get it.  I’m going to retake the course as soon as it comes up again.  In the back of my mind, I always knew that Greek culture is the root of Western civilization; I just never grasped how much.  And while it’s not a culture I seek to emulate, I think it’s an important one to learn about.

One that just started is McGill University’s “Food for Thought.”  It’s a chemistry class of sorts all focused on food and how it affects our bodies.  I’ve just finished the second, but that still leaves plenty of time to sign up and take full advantage of the course.

They’re going over all the science, or lack of science as the case may be, that goes into the study of food.  They spend a good deal going over the scientific method, the laborious process of what it takes to publish any new scientific research, and how the media and other “helpful” nutritional authors constantly skew the facts and why the public keeps falling for it time and time again.

Then there’s the fun facts about our diet, what we need, and how we get it.  Vitamin C is crucial for the prevention of scurvy, a particularly nasty disease that plagued humanity for centuries, usually sailors and soldiers with insufficient supplies.  The Native Americans saved Jacques Cartier’s men in the Sixteenth Century by making a tea of white cedar tree’s needles, which have a sufficient amount of vitamin C to heal them.  Later, limes were a staple in long voyages.

These days, we tend to rely on oranges as a vitamin C staple, but did you know that green peppers have far more vitamin C in them than any citrus fruits?  I had no idea.

As for minerals, we tend to think of bananas as a primary source of potassium, but it turns out that potatoes have more potassium by far than our most popular tropical fruit.

On the subject of minerals, they spend an entire section just on calcium.  This is deserved because calcium is vital for our bones and teeth and the lack of it can lead to osteoporosis, a bone disease that decreases your bone mass and density, which will lead to a higher chance of fractures.

Women, this is especially important for you.  On average, women tend to develop osteoporosis earlier in life than men, and it most commonly occurs after menopause.  Get calcium in your system.

There are all other sorts of classes, from math to history, science and English, current events and philosophy.  These are just a couple I’ve enjoyed and think important, but check it out for yourself.  They’re adding new courses all the time, and the subjects are varied and wonderful.  Enjoy!

Revisiting Teaching Literature

Teaching literature is difficult, especially around the high school stage.  This is because most teenagers have lives, they want to be social, and reading is about as nonsocial an activity as they come.

I currently belong to a book group, and we have had many invigorating and wonderful discussions about the books we read together, but the fact is, it’s only social after we’re done with whatever we picked for the month.  The reading part is as lonely as it gets.

I read all through school, and while I would participate in several different activities, most of my time was occupied with my nose in a book.  It wasn’t rare to find me walking to class with a paperback in one hand and almost walking into a tree as I went to the next period.  I spent a lot of time by myself.

Most teenagers are not me.  They want social lives and they’re pretty good at getting them, too.  Why do they want to read when it cuts into the most important aspect of their lives?

Besides, which, a lot of the books teachers assign can be downright horrible for two reasons: One, the book really is bad; or two, the book is confusing and they don’t understand why it’s important that they spend so many weeks involved with these various stories.

I’ve never forgotten a conversation we had my freshman year.  We had just finished John Steinbeck’s Of Mice and Men and were discussing the ending.  Before this, we had read Romeo and Juliet, and we understood that the next book coming up was going to be William Goldman’s Lord of the Flies.  One of the girls in my class had had it.

“Why are we reading so many books about death?  This doesn’t make me happy.  It just makes me feel depressed.”

“I hate to break it to you,” our teacher said, “but people die.”

That was the weakest answer to the best question ever asked the whole time I was in school.  Yeah, people die; we knew that.  We were teenagers for crying out loud; several of us already had relatives that passed on, myself included.  Why did that mean we had to read it?

I’m not going to answer that question in this post, although I may try in the future.  I just give this as an example of the disconnect students have in understanding the purpose behind the classics and why they should read.  I sure didn’t get the point behind Of Mice and Men until a couple years later, and by then, I found other Steinbeck novels I much preferred over that one (Cannery Row I will recommend to anyone.)

I switched high schools my junior year, and they did something rather incredible: they combined English class with History.  There was still a lot of grouching (did you expect anything else?) but the complaint I never heard was, Why is this important?

Because it was American history, the books we read would correlate with the time period we were studying.  During the Colonial Era, we were reading short stories like “Rip Van Winkle” and after, Benjamin Franklin’s autobiography.  For the Civil War, it was The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, one of the best books I’ve ever read.  For the Roarin’ Twenties, The Great Gatsby.  Great Depression, The Grapes of Wrath.  McCarthy Era, The Crucible.

And I could go on.  Now, I’m confident that most of my classmates still didn’t read any of our assigned literature.  But when it came time to talk about it, nobody could argue that they didn’t see the point.  We were discussing and learning how each book was relevant to our American culture, why it had lasted so long, and what we could still learn about ourselves in those books today.

                   ***

All of this is my usual meandering to come to this point: Books matter because of the impact they have on our culture.  They comment on societies, force us to look at ourselves, occasionally, they will even create new cultures and new ways of behavior.

Some books are easier to understand because they’re part of our culture, or our shared experiences.  The reason Harry Potter became such a phenomenon, partly because it’s a fun and charming fantasy, but moreover, it was very familiar to our own experiences.  We could relate to difficult families, school, sports, awe of nature, the shops, vacations, the politics, the social ladders, and yes, that battle of good versus evil and coming to terms with the meaning of life and death.

I had a lot more I wanted to say, but it didn’t come together well when I wrote it down.  So I’ll just close saying  that I don’t know how to instill the love of reading in another person, but I feel that progress could be made in teaching literature if the students can be told and shown the cultural context behind the work, and how it has made us the people we are today.