Those Philosophical Thinkers

 

When the background to our lives changes, our words may no longer work as they used to, and possibilities for seeing and understanding each other and the world may be lost. Sometimes, when it matters most, what another person is doing (what we are doing) can be obscure and dark. This is when philosophy comes into its own.

- Metaphysical Animals

What could appeal to me more than a romp around Oxford in the 1930s - 1950s, visiting one of the best bookshops, Blackwell's and the Oxford colleges for lectures and meetings, studying philosophy with those thinkers of the time, discovering how these four women entered daringly into a man's world and stood their own, becoming philosophers, showing they have the brains and courage to stand up the new standards of logical positivism and other newer versions of philosophy that fitted life's meaning into equations but choosing to leave morality out of the equations. These women (Elizabeth Anscombe, Iris Murdoch, Mary Midgely, and Philippa Foot) wanted to go back to moral philosophy teaching - about how to live a good life, asking what is moral and good, what is truth? Back to Plato and Aristotle. 

Side note, I was thrilled to read the recap of the debate in the Oxford Socratic Club with President C.S. Lewis and Elizabeth Anscombe on her criticism of one chapter (on naturalism) of Lewis's book that had just been published, Miracles. That debate has become a widely spread false story that her critique made him scuttle away and write children's books after that. Lewis invited debate, he encouraged it. He thrived on debating and was one of the best. He might have been caught in a good argument in that debate, and he proceeded to modify/edit that chapter in Miracles. Elizabeth, a Catholic, even noted in a letter to Wittgenstein afterwards that Lewis was more civil that she expected. 

WWII came along and cleared out the Oxford scenes so that as the men left for war, the old male tutors and the women who all stayed continued their education and the old ways of philosophy were able to be resurrected. At least for a time...

Philosophy asks the impossible questions. 

I enjoyed Iris Murdoch's first philosophical question at the age of 6 - "The snowdrop hangs its head, why?" "A thought provoking question," she reflected as an adult, "a good introduction to a world which is full of mysteries."

I've grown to love the idea of living into the unanswered questions and thereby embracing mystery. Rainer Maria Rilke introduced me to this amazingly poignant idea of how to live with questions in Letters to a Young Poet. Perhaps that seems lazy or passive, but it is actually an invitation to be actively watching and observing when you might live into an unanswered questions. One day, Rilke wrote, you may just live into the answer. But you must be awake to notice it.

This is where philosophy comes in. Our world shows us the shadow things, the crumbling is before us. We have deep questions. We want a nicely summed up answer, even though we know that isn't likely going to occur. In fact, it may only raise more questions. This, we don't like. However, this is what we should participate with, in a philosophical sense.

We can take consolation in philosophy, following the ideas of Boethius, who was wrongfully imprisoned and put to death. He wrote Consolations of Philosophy in 524 whilst in prison. In this slim book, he has a conversation with the "nurse" philosophy. Why would he turn to philosophy in his last weeks/days? Because it can tackle the toughest questions about life, circumstances, fortune, good and evil, fate, free will. It's a way to ask God these tough questions, just like Job did, and approach Him, not necessarily expecting answers, but taking comfort in the exploration along with knowing you don't have to rely on answers, but only God and His goodness. 

Hidden away in peace
And sure of your strong-built walls,
You will lead a life serene
And smile at the raging storm.

(Consolations of Philosophy, Boethius)

Reading one book leads to many other books, providing branches outward to other books and thinkers. That's exactly what this book did and it's one of my favourite things when that happens.

Joy is the Fundamental Thing

 

Man is more himself, man is more manlike, when joy is the fundamental thing in him, and grief the superficial. Melancholy should be an innocent interlude, a tender and fugitive frame of mind; praise should be the permanent pulsation of the soul. Pessimism is at best an emotional half-holiday; joy is the uproarious labour by which all things lives.

- Orthodoxy, G.K. Chesterton

This is the second time I have copied this passage out my hand today, because I love it so much. It is a brief summation of the way I hope and pray the I live all the time, being my best self by way of joy. Joy is the big secret of Christianity. Joy is where all things collide with beautiful sparkle of the eternal. Nothing, no circumstances can crush joy - it does not depend on emotion or a daily event happening or not. It is connection with God. It is being more you, deeper in who you are, through God.

Orthodoxy is the spiritual journey Chesterton traces to explain, in his metaphorical, imaginative, and paradoxical ways, how he built the case and came to believe. He gives this wonderful image at the beginning of a man leaving in his sailboat from the shores of England to discover the new religion - the thing he's been searching for. Through all the exploring, he ends up landing on the same shore he left from, the same England, yet with new eyes of discovery. This is his journey of how everything he was searching for he found in Christianity, which had been there all along. He found that it filled the hole that nothing else could fill.

This passage makes makes me delight. It makes me feel whimsical. It opens my mind to the possibilities of life that is alive with joy, and has some small interludes of melancholy when life turns that way, which acts as a springboard into the joy of praise for all the blessings of being alive.

Somehow, with the grace of God, I managed to complete leading a class study of Orthodoxy and came out alive. It is a tough book, but well worth the effort, and it's not too long (under 200 pages). Though I have read it several times since college, it is a challenge. It's one thing to read it on your own and get the general ideas and take away some important key points, whilst skipping the need to fully understand every aspect. It's another thing to lead a class who has never read Chesterton before and perhaps did not enjoy his way of writing. I spent a lot of time digging into this book and learned so much. It's always the great benefit of leading a book study - I become the one in fact who gains so much from all the preparation I did. It is something I love doing. And we all got through! I hope more than anything, to convey interesting ideas to explore more deeply, thanks to Chesterton. 

Joy, which was the small publicity of the pagan, is the gigantic secret of the Christian.

Ah yes, joy is the nugget so fundamental to Christianity. It is the secret that might be forgotten most often. Jesus kind of hid his joy whilst here on earth, yet perhaps displaying snippets of it when he spent time with friends at the wedding (where he chose to perform a miracle so the enjoyment of friends could continue) and many dinner parties he attended. I love the way Chesterton ends the book with joy, and the idea of Jesus's mirth. Something we can imagine with a swelling of joy within ourselves.

Praise for Pausing

 

Two books I have recently picked up to read have been an encouraging presence to remind me to pause and appreciate. One about nature. One about monastic life around the world. Each one with the reminders that unplugging from the world for a bit is good. To appreciate nature and the creation we've been given. And what a quiet, contemplative life looks like in different monastic traditions around the world.

In The Interior Silence by Sarah Sands, we are travelling the world to different monasteries (Japan, Bhutan, England, Italy, Egypt, etc) and learning about why each place is special and set apart from the busy, distracted world that surrounds them. Some are high up in a desolate mountain peak, some are well outside a busy city in the countryside. It is a sort of tourist guide to monasteries, as our author is only staying at each place for a night or two. I would be so curious to learn about how a week or more changes the perspectives and priorities, with reflections on how it has impacted deeper thinking and inner joy from feeling closer to the Creator. The overall resounding theme of each place is simplicity. How can one live in the world but not be of the world? How can one live without the heavy burdens of worries, cares, and other difficult things we carry? And regarding the physical carrying of burdens, monks don't have possessions. So there is this counter-cultural reminder of all the stuff we have and how much we don't need. I felt the urge many times to off load many of my possessions in a fell swoop.

I enjoyed getting to learn about the places she went and how different they are culturally, especially Bhutan and Egypt. I am fascinated. Those two are dramatically different, of course, but equally fascinating. I love the notion of visiting ancient places, like in Egypt, the pyramids in the distance, and a visit to Alexandria. Modern and bustling these places are, built over much of the ancient traces. It reminds me that we are all building and treading over the bones of the dead. And the wisdom of Bhutan, perhaps extreme to a point no other nation will ever want to follow (or are they ahead of us?), in measuring happiness and limiting tourism. Closing themselves off to some extent. I am not sure how that works geopolitically, but the idea of protecting the landscape, the lifestyle, the culture, and promoting values of living simply are appealing, even if viewed as backwards by most modern nations. I am listening in those quiet moments. I am delighted to visit several (from my armchair) places of peace and contemplation, of simplicity and living out generosity. 

In The Brief Life of Flowers by Fiona Stafford is beautifully written. Each chapter is focused on a different flower and she begins with lovely descriptions of a location and the flower thriving. We are reminded that flowers usually represent the fragility of life, and yet they also at the same time show us how new life springs up with every season. It's a beautiful illustration of the both/and philosophy rather than an either/or view of something. We can embrace both aspects of flowers and appreciate them for their gifts in nature. The author beckons us to look at history through the eyes of the flowers, including how they were used in remedies (or how they might poisonous - looking at you, Foxgloves), and draws in many art and literary connections to the flowers, which I love anytime poets and the literary world can be connected. 

Since we are beyond midsummer, I will share this lovely passage from the chapter on roses:

Walls, sheds and garages disappear under mountainous rambling roses, which hang like suspended avalanches of pink and cream. Roses and shoot up trees to make midsummer fireworks of bright white-gold star showers, or stay close tot he ground releasing cascades of soft, small spheres over a terrace or rockery.

I first saw this book at the Oxford Botanic Garden this Spring, which is a perfect place to see such a book and read about such fascinating plants. It will always make me think of that wonderful, old botanic garden I love to visit.

The World of War and Peace

 

You dread crossing that line, and yet you still want to cross it. You know sooner or later you will have to go across and find out what is there beyond it, just as you must inevitably find out what lies beyond death. Yet here you are, fit and strong, carefree and excited, with men all around you just the same - strong, excited and full of life. This is what all men think when they get a sight of the enemy, or they feel it if they do not think it, and it is this feeling that gives a special lustre and a delicious edge to the awareness of everything that is now happening.

- War and Peace

How can one do justice to a book like this? No short or long blog post would be able to. This book is epic: it spans war time in Russia, with the impending approach of Napoleon and his French army. And yet it's small scale at the same time - It invites the reader into the families - parents, sons and daughters. Their good choices, bad choices, and everything in between. It takes you onto the battlefield dashing between bullets and explosions. Our characters we get to know are out there in danger. They are also at home dealing with those elements of family we might be familiar with.

Princess Marya stayed out on the terrace. Morning had broken into a day of hot sunshine. She could take nothing in, think of nothing, and feel nothing beyond her passionate love for her father, a love that seemed to have escaped her understanding until this moment. She hurried out into the garden sobbing, and ran down the paths between Prince Andrey's recently planted line-trees that led to the pond. 

I started reading War and Peace well over a year ago, but had to pause it often as I very often wanted to finish another book or focus elsewhere. But I decided to devote my time recently so I could finish it. The Russian tale by Leo Tolstoy fills over 1,300 pages and covers several years during the Napoleonic War mostly the years 1805 - 1812. Each chapter is like a short episode - a scene in the family or on the battlefield. Very readable these chapters are, and if you took out the Russian notions of Counts and Princesses it could read like other family dynamics. 

"Tell the King of Naples," said Napoleon stiffly, "that it is still not midday, and I cannot yet see my chess-board clearly. you may go."

The variety of characters (real and fiction) covers a huge range. From Russian families you have Napoleon on the battlefield with his officers. His pompous confidence jumps off the pages as he treads over the land into Russia. He stomps into Moscow in his victorious march. Yet you as the reader know there is a downfall coming. His end is coming. You can catch a glimpse of this in the encounter Pierre has with a French soldier. Tolstoy captures such amazing moments of humanity.

Davout looked up again and stared closely at Pierre. For several seconds they looked at one another, and it was this look that saved Pierre. The business of staring at each other took them beyond the realm of warfare and courtrooms; they were two human beings and there was a bond between them. There was a single instant that involved an infinite sharing of experience in which they knew they were both children of humanity, and they were brothers.

Pierre is capture by the French, and it is in his difficult times of being held as a prisoner that he discovers great joy in life. Pierre is a character you like from the beginning. He is large in size, large in spirit, awkward and yet loving, inheriting a fortune he doesn't really want and feels strange in. He stumbles in his status and he's always seeking out truth in his various ventures. His experience of hardship as a prisoner frees him from the binds that he had always felt around him. and you cheer him on, as he's such a likeable character. 

I've heard it said that War and Peace doesn't really have a plot or a story, but I would argue that it follows life, which is a big story with a plot you don't know until you've run into it. Tolstoy sneaks many of his philosophical ideas into these episodes, which is an antidote to sometimes feeling overwhelmed with scenes of battle. And then there are scenes with beautiful moments sitting beside beloved characters you've been on this long journey with that cause you to pause as a reader.

"Love gets in the way of death. Love is life. Every single thing I understand, I understand only because I love. Everything is - everything exists - only because I love. Everything is bound up with love and love alone. Love is God, and dying means me, a tiny particle of love, going back to its universal and eternal source." 

Summer Pages

The hot, sultry months of summer. What is the best way to spend these sun-soaked days so intensely hot the daily temps near the triple digits? You know what I would say - get cosy inside, get a cold drink (my current obsession is iced matcha) and read good books! That is your summer homework. Pretty simple. What are your summer reads?

At Bertram's Hotel by Agatha Christie

Summer is not complete unless you read a murder mystery. Taking place at a classic English hotel on a quieter street in London, Ms. Marple goes to stay at Bertram's Hotel on holiday. It's a perfectly charming hotel, the last of the truly British hotels with real muffins, butter, and tea time. Hospitality and decor is top notch, but darkness is looming underneath the surface. Strange scenes start to occur. Characters act in suspicious ways. Ms. Marple notices these things, but kind of stores them away for later. When a murder occurs just outside the hotel, things must be solved, and Ms. Marple's excellent memory is a key to solving the case.

High Time by Hannah Rothschild

In the world of finance, crypto-currency, and shorting stocks, there's a ton of room for the rich and greedy to become more rich and greedy, to cast themselves into immoral situations. A modern book is not often my cup of tea, but this one connected with the world of finance caught my eye, as well as the location at a castle in Cornwall. It is high drama, ultra rich making things worse for themselves. Deceit in the world of finance steeps into personal relationships, breaking everything apart. Ponsi schemes still work on the foolish and desperate. It was a little bit too flashy in those ways. I think the sympathy was supposed to be with the main character, as her husband set out to leave her penniless in pursuit of his ideas, but I didn't feel sympathy for her, nor anyone in the book, for every character in this world was a deceiver.

John Milton Selected Poems

A selection of his greats. Milton wrote during the most tumultuous time in English history (their civil war). Includes some of his most well-known poems and large chunks of Paradise Lost and Paradise Regained. I haven't spent a long time studying and reading Milton, so I thought it was a good time to do that. Plus this lovely edition of the Penguin classic cover is hard to resist.

The Goldfinch by Donna Tartt 

An explosion at a museum. The 'unintentional' act stealing a painting and keeping it hidden for years (in memory of his mother killed in the explosion), the decision made as a young teen haunts Theo and changes the course of his life into a slippery slope of a dark world. Donna Tartt is a brilliant writer. She writes about one book per decade, and each is a masterpiece in its complex way. She takes you into dark worlds, but you are so drawn in as a reader, and there are deeper truths that she is wanting to show through her characters. Philosophical questions are raised throughout the book - what is a good life? Do we choose a good life, do we make it, is it handed to us? What happens when you are turning into your father (who left you and treats you badly) when you deeply loved and admired your mother and would want to be more like her? Seeing in the distance the good you want, but not being able to get there because of different transition points and the choices made at each.

A Sultry Month by Alethea Haytor 

It's June/July, 1846 in London. A heatwave spans weeks where the temperatures hit 100+ on a regular basis. This literary journey takes us into events taken from the diaries, letters, records, and news from the lives of creatives like Elizabeth Barrett Browning, Robert Browning, Thomas and Jane Carlyle, Charles Dickens, Robert Haydon. This snapshot from a hot June/July 1846 was written in the 1960s but reads like a  modern group biography, of which this is a first of its kind. When it's summer now and the long-term heat wave is ever-present, it was a perfectly timed read.

Growing with Every Step

 

Christ Church College Dining Hall Staircase, Oxford

…to understand the kind of mindset that could turn a failure into a gift.

There is this idea of having two mindsets – fixed and growth, spans all areas of our lives from our own intellect, business, goals, and relationships. It can be summarized in this succinct question the author of Mindset poses –

“What are the consequences of thinking that your intelligence or personality is something you can develop, as opposed to something that is a fixed, deep-seated trait?”

The author defines the fixed mindset as being ‘carved in stone.’ With only a certain set amount of knowledge and intelligence, a certain character, and certain moral compass, the fixed mindset person is set out to have to prove himself over and over. When faced with a challenge or difficulty, they don’t bother to look at themselves, they complain, they do nothing, they stay in bed, they cry, they eat, they pout, they blame others.

In contrast, the growth mindset is defined as having belief that your ‘qualities are things you can cultivate through your efforts, your strategies, and help from others.’ The idea being that no matter what talents or interests you have you can grow through learning and trying. This growth minded person might wonder – why would I worry about proving myself over and over when I could be getting better and learning more? A deep passion for learning is fostered. When faced with a challenge, the growth mindset will move forward focusing on the learning over time, not about being perfect now.

Using many examples from her life, stories she has heard, research she has done, and from celebrities of all kinds, Carol Dweck takes the reader through all areas of life to show how her thesis of mindsets plays out in corporations, individuals, small groups, relationships, and parenting. She points out that while in one area we could be growth minded, in other areas we might still remain in a fixed mindset. We need to be attentive to this and then it’s up to each of us to work on it. She borrows wisdom from many who have learned this, such as the basketball coach John Wooden who said “you aren’t a failure until you start to blame. What he means is that you can still be in the process of learning from your mistakes until you deny them.” This concept is a key to maintaining a growth mindset, for if it’s always someone else’s fault, you are never willing to look within yourself for things to improve. Instead ask: what can I do to learn from that experience? How can I use that as a basis for growing and learning?

I remember when Enron fell from its pedestal in 2001. In the years to come I studied their mistakes in my accounting classes in college. The author uses Enron as a prime example of a corporation having a fixed mindset, by putting complete faith in talent. Enron created a culture that was fixated on big talent, worshiping the look and feel of being successful in their talent, and thereby pushing themselves into a fixed mindset. They thought they were all brilliant and had no flaws. With this outlook as a corporate culture, nobody was willing to say there was any vulnerability in the company, nobody was willing to admit a mistake or provide feedback for improvement and work together.

On the other side of the coin, we are reminded of some good leaders who have restored companies by putting their ego aside, and being open to new ideas and welcoming changes that are for good. Taking the leader mentality from “me me me” to “we”.  A company is more than one person. What these leaders with a growth mindset have learned is to select people for their mindset, not for their status, degrees, and certifications.

As I was reading this book, I began to quickly notice within myself whenever I was falling into a fixed mindset about something, and I also easily see that play out in other people. The book presented me with the reminders and examples of keeping a growth mindset in all areas of my life. It is very simple to remember fixed vs. growth, but it’s another thing to be observant to it and address it. With this book and its language as a tool, I have been able to incorporate it into my daily life, opening myself to a deeper realized growth mindset.

Learning from Kierkegaard

 

For as the Good is only a single thing, so all ways lead to the Good, even the false ones: when the repentant follows the same way back...Wherever a man may be in the world, whichever road he travels, when he wills one thing, he is on a road that leads him to Thee!
- Søren Kierkegaard

This little paperback book, Purity of Heart, is to will one thing, printed in 1961 is a perfect example of why I love shopping at used bookstores so much (especially in the UK), because I never know what I will find that is no longer in print and I'd never see anywhere else. Some treasure will be tucked in between other books minding their own business when suddenly my eyes will catch the spine that has the familiar and comforting name "Kierkegaard". A favourite author, thinker, philosopher, theologian, writer. I smile and gently pull the small book off the shelf. How long was it sitting there? Was it waiting for me? For a mere £3.00 this unknown title (to me) gets to come home with me.

This time, at the Oxfam Charity Bookshop on St. Giles in Oxford, I found an armful of treasure, this Søren Kierkegaard being one of them. The shop is a stone's throw away from The Eagle and Child pub and just north of the centre of Oxford. I've been in this shop countless times, and I never leave emptyhanded. Downstairs is where I found this treasure. Standing in the same spot I have stood so many times before. Finding different books each time. Each visit filling me with inspiration from these books.

Coming back to Kierkegaard's writing is like coming back to a close friend. One who doesn't let me slip by, getting comfortable in my own pride. A friend who comforts me and then challenges me. I've known him a long time, and have taken comfort in his obedient Christian thinking, he who criticized his culture at the time of being too lackadaisical, making Christianity too easy, watering it down. Kierkegaard recognized that being a true Christian has a cost. It is not easy, and he wrote books about the complexities of being a Christian, and he actually lived it out, making the tougher choices of faithfulness. This little book, however, isn't one of his creative complex debates written in a pseudonym, but rather an edifying discourse that a pastor might present to his congregation. 

This slim work is bringing the attention to remorse, confession, pardon. Seeking to will one thing.

Something has come in between. The separation of sin lies in between. Each day, and day after day something is being placed in between: delay, blockage, interruption, delusion, corruption.

 But life gets in the way. Through distractions and interruptions - oh how Kierkegaard knows us, even from his perspective in the 1840s! Each chapter is a discussion of one of those barriers to willing one thing (great moments, the reward disease, egocentric service of the good, willing out of fear), and then chapters to discuss the price of willing one thing (commitment, loyalty, suffering, listening, living as an "individual", occupation and vocation).

Only the Eternal is constructive. The wisdom of the years is confusing. Only the wisdom of eternity is edifying.

 It all comes down to the individual, as much of his philosophy across all his books stresses this. Kierkegaard wrote a lot about the individual, meaning, the ultimate thing that matters is our one-on-one personal relationship with God and how we portray that in the world with eternal perspective. You can follow the crowd all your years, you can try to hide behind others' thoughts and ideas without forming your own, but in the end God is desiring of you as an individual, no third party is going to speak on your behalf when you come face-to-face with God.

For in the outside world, the crowd is busy making a noise. The one makes a noise because he heads the crowd, the many because they are members of the crowd. But the all-knowing One, who in spite of anyone is able to observe it all, does not desire the crowd. He desires the individual; He will deal only with the individual, quite unconcerned as to whether the individual be high or low station, whether he be distinguished or wretched....Each one shall render account to God as an individual. The King shall render account as an individual; and the most wretched beggar, as an individual. No one may pride himself at being more than an individual, and no one despondently think the he is not an individual, perhaps because here in earth's busyness he had not as much as a name, but was named after a number.

How do we, then, live our lives? Kierkegaard challenges us with questions to probe us - if you throw yourself into the world around you, directing attention outwards, relating yourself as yourself the individual with eternal responsibility? Or do you fold into the crowd, excusing yourself with others, blending in and avoiding any topic that indeed falls into anything about responsibility? Kierkegaard is talking here about eternal responsibility, things that matter, the big questions. Avoiding thinking for yourself by "joining the crowd in its defiance, thinking that you were many" and hiding in the crowd's strength. You are not "many". But in eternity, it will be asked of you whether you may have damaged a good thing, and you, the individual must answer, as eternity strips away the crowd.

Yes, Kierkegaard is challenging. He is complex. I wrote in the margins toward the beginning of the book next to a certain passage - "S.K., always making things more difficult". And it's true. He even wrote about how he makes things more difficult and complex, but he is writing about truth and deep philosophical issues of humanity, and he doesn't shy away from the true cost of being a disciple of Jesus. He was frustrated with Christianity being watered down, to make people feel good and smoothly fit into culture. He saw the danger of this. I think his words feel more important today than they were in his day.

Coffee with Augustine and Plato

 

Lately I have been sharing many mugs of coffee with some great thinkers of antiquity and late antiquity. I dance around these two thinkers quite often, as they are referenced and discussed in many books I read. Rather serendipitously I have been reading them at the same time, almost as if they were speaking to one another, though from different centuries 375 BC to 400 AD. 

"...no two of us are born exactly alike. We have different natural aptitudes, which fit us for different jobs."
"We have indeed."
"So do we do better to exercise one skill or to try to practice several?"
"To stick to one," he said.

"He" is Socrates. After Socrates died (executed by the re-instated democracy after an uprising), 30 years later Plato wrote The Republic, putting together conversations including Socrates and friends, to engage in what they would have discussed as philosophers. As they discuss their version of an ideal city if they could build their own, they lay out the dynamics of a society in their terms. An overarching theme of Socrates is unity of the virtues - he believed it wasn't possible to possess one without the others. Embracing good in truth, and what is best for the whole of the community is also mentioned again and again. Things that none of us would have trouble with. 

The ancient world of politics of Rome and Greece, however, would be rather disturbing to us today. Equality is not what we view as equality. Justice is not what we would view as justice. Grasping the ideas and society of their pre-Christian era, while full of familiar terms and some similar aspects, seems like a foreign landscape at times. An ancient realm before Christ had no thoughts toward God as we would think of God, in the scope of our post-Christian modern day. But they believed in gods, and sacrificed to them for good fortune.

Plato writes his arguments through Socrates's dialogues that in their created ideal city philosophers would be the rulers. As nobody else is as detached from money, power, and selfish inclinations than philosophers. The Republic is set out to be a sort of "constitution" for this newly established (imagined) city.

Augustine came later, after Christ, and was the Bishop of Hippo (North Africa) for the majority of his life (he lived 354 AD - 440 AD). He knew Plato's writings, indeed, he was a Platonist before he converted to Christianity. He uses Plato's parables in his own teachings. You can sense his prior learning as a philosopher infused in his writings.

No one doubts that we are driven towards knowledge by a twofold force: the force of authority and the force of reason. I am, therefore, resolved never ever to deviate from the authority of Christ, for I find none so powerful. But as to what the most subtle reasoning can pursue - for I am so stirred up that I yearn impatiently to apprehend what the truth is, not only by believing but also by understanding - I am confident at the moment that what I will fund among the Platonists will not be opposed to our sacred mysteries.

Augustine wrote about a different city, The City of God, which is in fact one of his great books (a hefty one as well, over 1,100 pages) in which he targets paganism. He writes human history from the clashing aspects between two cities - the earthly city and the City of God. Or in the Biblical sense - Babylon and Jerusalem. Augustine himself said "Both cities are now mixed up together; at the end they will be separated." 

Often authors and thinkers do speak to one another across space and time. Across the ages. Across the room. My Plato book was jumping up from my coffee table to my desk where Augustine was sitting when he heard his name mentioned. How fun it is to be amongst such authors, ready to jump at the chance to dialogue.

Pages and Coffee - Bookish Notes

 

Reason has moons, but moons not hers
Lie mirror'd on her sea,
Confounding her astronomers,
But O! Delighting me.

- Evelyn Underhill

Have you been reading anything wonderful lately?

I am working my way through my lovely stack of books I purchased whilst in Oxford. It's one of the best ways to fondly recall a trip -  through books. Where I bought that book and why it caught my eye. The place I bought it. The day and all the goodness that was had. The memories of England bookshops. It is a great, pure delight to me.

In an Oxfam bookshop I picked up a distinctly blue Oxford University Press book on Wordsworth, the poet, printed in 1950. A short intro on his life and how he developed his well known masterpieces, such as "Lyrical Ballads", "Lines Composed above Tintern Abbey",  and "The Prelude". I usually pay more attention to his friend and fellow poet (with whom he wrote "Lyrical Ballads") Samuel Taylor Coleridge, so it was lovely to focus on William Wordsworth to gain more insights and analysis on his poems. He was, along with Coleridge, the genesis of the Romantic Poetry movement that gained momentum after them. They looked to nature when society was suddenly shifting dramatically to the reductionist thinking of scientism.  

I am becoming such an admirer of Evelyn Underhill. I have one book and keep coming across her in various ways, through other writers, but I don't often see her books around. Thankfully, in an Oxfam charity shop I did find this lovely slim volume of her collected papers printed in 1946. Mostly lectures from the 1920s-1930s. Evelyn was a poet, writer, and spiritual leader. In 1922 she was the first woman lecturer to have her name on the Oxford University list. She answers questions about what is mysticism, and what it isn't. She gives lectures about prayer, worship, contemplation, and to teachers, encouraging them in their roles as leading the next generation through life's challenges. 

To do great things for souls, you must become the agent and channel of a more than human love.

The inspiration of the painter, the musician and the poet, and often that of the scientist and explorer too, contains a genuine element of worship. All that is best in these great human activities is not done for our own sake; it points right away from us, to something we humbly seek and half-ignorantly adore. It is offered at the shrine of a beauty or a wisdom that lies beyond the world. 

- Evelyn Underhill

Mixed into every few books, one must solve a murder. It's just a requirement to solve a puzzle by gathering the clues before one can move forward into another book. This time, it was The Murder in the Bookshop by Carolyn Wells. I picked this up in Waterstones, a large chain bookshop in the UK that is always good for browsing, a charming vintage looking mystery from the 1920s. Oh these golden age mysteries, they are just so fun. All the old fashioned methods of solving a murder are unknown to us today with all our technology, but the deductions and clues collected take time and a lot of looking for the right thing to lead one to the murderer. As I read these older mysteries I think about how quickly a murder like this one that takes place in the bookshop would have been solved today with camera footage. Kind of wipes out the ability to write a modern murder mystery in this similar capacity. I love going back to these old methods of deduction and thinking about motives and clues, reasons for behavior that is often puzzling, and figuring out in the end how it was all done.

I am also reading through a (not purchased in Oxford) chunky book Augustine In His Own Words, a collection of Saint Augustine's great writings from many of his books - not the lightest of reading, certainly philosophical and historical; I am learning so much and loving it. I was only really familiar with his Confessions, but he wrote so much more than that (he was a bishop as well as a great orator and had all his sermons in his head) and it was time for me to dive in.

Take Time for Tea

 

One of the best things about taking time for tea is that it does exactly that. It takes time. It is a lovely process of slowing down, waiting for the leaves to steep, pouring and letting it cool enough to sip. The clanking sound of teacup on saucer signals to me time for writing, reading, thinking, talking, and resting. Depending on if I am alone or with someone. You can't have a cup of tea in a ceramic cup and saucer on the go. You must sit there and enjoy it. Ideally, you have a pot of tea on the table, so you can refill your cup. This in itself is a beautiful reminder of appreciating the little things and being present in the moment.

My favourite places to have tea in Oxford are Vaults & Garden and the Weston Library. Pictured here. I could visit these places every single day and not grow weary of them In fact, we kind of almost did visit each spot almost daily (perhaps not but close to it). And when we did not go, I missed being there enjoying tea and the atmosphere. 

The Vaults and Garden Café is inside the grand University Church St. Mary the Virgin. It is in a room from 1320 called the Congregation Room where meetings used to be held in the church for the community. With vaulted ceilings and beautiful framed windows, I never grow tired of the space. It gets really crowded at lunchtime, so patience is required as the queue to get in can be long. Outdoors there are tables as well, but you are at the mercy of the weather, which in England can be a bit temperamental. However, sitting outside offers the loveliest view of the Radcliffe Camera. The food served is organic and local, with a seasonal menu changing everyday. It's not only a favourite tea spot, but also lunch spot of mine. Warm and comforting food (soups, rice, potatoes, chicken, curry, fresh vegetables), plus a huge array of cakes (even a gluten free vegan banana bread cake! Heavenly!). The tea is unmatched. They use a high quality loose leaf tea selection, and I highly recommend the Earl Grey and the Jasmine Green. Serving trays are all William Morris prints - a lovely sight every time. You might even see the former Archbishop of Canterbury Rowan Williams sitting outside in the garden for some lunch!

The Weston Library has a café inside Blackwell Hall. With views of the Bodleian Library above your head, it's a perfectly bookish space. I could sit there for hours. The Bodleian exhibits are also there, across Blackwell Hall, as well as one of the Bodleian gift shops. The café has a large selection of cakes, teas, and salad/sandwich lunch. I recommend the peppermint tea for a perfect afternoon break with a cake or treat. People watching here is grand. Out the front windows is Broad Street and within the Hall are many visitors who come and go.  

Writing about these two spots makes me miss them - missing their atmosphere and delicious teas and thoughts. There's nowhere else like them. Are there places like that for you?