As you know, my friends, it is that time of Time again when our calendar makes up for lost time and puts the year back on track, for our dating system has become about a day behind the earth's position in orbit. We call this day "Leap Day," and it occurs every 29 February. Of course, I know what you are thinking: that there was no 29 February last year, neither the year before nor the year before that; therefore, this day cannot possibly exist! That which you think is true. In actuality, there is no 29 February, and there can exist no form of "29 Februaryness." In fact, the time covered by this day in truth took place in the hours following the coming of the New Year (which by no means is an arbitrarily selected moment) for the last for celebrations of that kind. The day itself, then, is both unreal and temporally passed, offering no further causal effect in time. Because the past has passed and the present has its perpetual presence, there is no changing the past between the past at hand and the current present, so acting on this leap day time has no real or causal significance. Do you realize what this means?
We can do whatever we like on Leap Day and it will not matter! We can fly or dance or sing or leap or weep or giggle or live or die. Come 1 March (Rabbit Rabbit Rabbit! Now I shall be blessed!), 29 February will not even be a memory.
I wish you all excellent fortune with your debaucheries, gluttonies, stumping dances, and magicks.
29 February 2008
27 February 2008
Puzzling Gnosis
Good afternoon, O most noble friends. On this afternoon I wish to speak of newspaper puzzles. For a long time I have been aware that the newspapers contain puzzles, especially crossword puzzles, but such things did not interest me. As a small child I was not so clever as to be able to solve the crossword clues, especially those about strange topics like sport, cinema, and popular music. Incidentally, I still cannot answer those clues (except "Omar Sharif," who is in so very many crosswords), but now I can answer at least several other varieties of clues. For a good many weeks now, I have been periodically obtaining the newspaper's puzzles and attempting to solve them. Obviously, this all started with the crosswords, and then it expanded around them when those hit a dead end, as they invariably, consistently, and redundantly do. I absolutely refuse to look up answers or ask for help, you see, and I have yet to actually finish one. Next to the crossword, though (having failed to finish it), I first found the cryptogram, and I attempted to solve it. In short, I failed, and I have continued to fail ever since. All the same, I keep on attempting them, failing each time. Most recently, however, I encountered Sudoku, which I have been witnessing respectable people working for a couple of years now, I myself making no effort to understand these matters. For many weeks I ignored its presence by the crossword, but being entirely disinterested in the remaining clues, I decided to look over to the Sudoku puzzle, which my brother had begun with minimal (about three squares worth of) progress. Thus I resolved to display my puzzle-solving superiority by solving the grid in its entirety, having never touched such a thing before. It did not work out so nicely, but now I know how to solve a Sudoku puzzle, and it shall join the crossword in my puzzle-working ritual. Likely I shall shun the cryptogram because, unlike Poe, I hate it. If I managed to solve one, it would be another matter entirely, but as it stands I have not. Last of all, the other puzzles appear insipid, and I shall pay them no heed, so now I have a complete newspaper puzzle ritual: gleefully attempting both Crosswords, profoundly pondering the perplexities of Sudoku, and raging against the Cryptogram. Where would we be without ritual, after all? I answer, deader than gnosticism, except Mandeanism which has ritual.
21 February 2008
Postexilic Judean Politics from Persian to Ptolemaic Rule
Disclaimer: This paper was written under the influence of a rather restrictive prompt and a narrow selection of sources. For this reason I attribute any weakness contained herein to that issue with which my issue is great and brimming with frustration. Also, just because I have cited books, that does not mean I have read them. The only ones I have read entirely are the biblical ones listed there. Josephus and the other two I have just read the selections handed to me. I just happen to have detailed bibliographical information for all of them. Also, indentations are bizarre in transit between Word and 'Blogger, so I will not muss with them. Also, any alliteration in the title is purely coincidental. Any alliteration in the body of the text was probably intentional. Last, please remember that this will be graded by a sincere follower of the minimalist school.
As many Judean exiles began to return to their homeland in 539 BC, a distinctly new age in their history began, and with it also came a markedly new political order at the head of their society. From the start of this postexilic age in the sixth century BC to the decline of Ptolemaic rule of Palestine in the second century BC, the Judean rulers and elites were forced to both adapt to and resist the dynamic world around them, ever struggling with the limits of autonomy and subjugation. This conflicted relationship with the outside, taken as a whole, reflects intensely on the interior affairs of the Judeans just as well, for the relations between the Judean rulers and the outside could not fail to affect those rulers’ subjects. In order to approach this matter most effectively, a periodization should serve quite well, through which both the question of external relations and the question of internal relations among the Judean rulers shall be addressed in sequence. These are the Persian era, which is divided into the sixth century return and the mid-fifth century under Ezra and Nehemiah, and the Hellenistic era, which is divided into the brief fourth century conquest of Alexander and the third century rule of Ptolemaic Egypt.
Having conquered Babylon, Cyrus the Great of Persia sought to win the favor of his new subjects by reversing the deportation policies of his Babylonian predecessors, which generally involved removing the elite population so as to decapitate the potential for resistance. In the so-called Decree of Cyrus, a Persian inscription on a clay barrel, it is stated, “I returned to (these) sacred cities on the other side of the Tigris, the sanctuaries of which have been ruins for a long time, the images which (used to live therein…I also gathered all their former inhabitants and returned to them their habitations” (Pritchard 208). Indeed, this is an excellent summary of Cyrus’ policy from its own time and supposedly from the lips of Cyrus himself. Regardless of any validity to the latter thought, this remains a valid declaration of the Persian resettlement, and it tells precisely, though not directly, of the treatment granted to the returning Judeans. In the rationale of the pagan Persians, the gods were tied to the land, so it was only natural to return both the people and their gods whence they came. Of course, in this sweeping policy, the Judeans necessarily fell within the pagan conception, regardless of the very distinct theological differences in the Judean concept of the Deity.
The Judean God retained throughout the exile a close association with Jerusalem, but his tie remained with the people rather than the land. This is plainly observed in an episode in the book of Daniel, wherein Darius is said to have decreed that no one shall pray to anyone but himself, the king, for thirty days: “Now when Daniel learned that the decree had been published, he went home to his upstairs room where the windows opened toward Jerusalem. Three times a day he got down on his knees and prayed, giving thanks to his God, just as he had done before” (Daniel 6:10). Thus Daniel associates God with Jerusalem but does not confine him there, as Daniel himself was living in Babylon. For this reason the Persian policy incorporated the Judeans without issue, Ezra presenting a text comparable to the Decree of Cyrus:
This is what Cyrus king of Persia says:
'The LORD, the God of heaven, has given me all the kingdoms of the earth and he has appointed me to build a temple for him at Jerusalem in Judah. Anyone of his people among you—may his God be with him, and let him go up to Jerusalem in Judah and build the temple of the LORD, the God of Israel, the God who is in Jerusalem. And the people of any place where survivors may now be living are to provide him with silver and gold, with goods and livestock, and with freewill offerings for the temple of God in Jerusalem' (Ezra 1:2-4)
The Judeans were allowed to return to their homeland, and they were to restore their ancestral temple where it had stood before. As far as the Persians were concerned, this was another people restoring their god to its home. As far as the Judeans were concerned, Cyrus was practically a messianic figure for ending the exile at last.
Immediately following the exile, then, the Judeans were on excellent terms with their Persian overlords, but interior and local strife was far from nonexistent. The Persian administration may have commanded the Judeans’ fellow subjects west of the river to be altogether helpful (Ezra 1:4), this does not mean they were. Ezra records that the enemies of Judah, surrounding peoples, “…hired counselors to work against them and frustrate their plans during the entire reign of Cyrus king of Persia and down to the reign of Darius king of Persia” (Ezra 4:5). In reference to the temple construction, he details how regional officials sent a letter to King Darius I, causing him to order the construction to a stop (Ezra 5:3-9). At the last, though, Ezra records that Cyrus’ declaration was found, and that the Persian crown was once again showering great favor on the Judeans, including royal funding for the restoration, according to Cyrus’ declaration (Ezra 6:1-12). Here, then, is visible the consistent loyalty to the Persian king demonstrated by the Judeans as an amicable and unobtrusive force and an authority over that of hostile fellows also under the crown. Indeed, the very officials responsible for the letter were brought to aid in the restoration effort under the orders of Darius I.
In the face of the troubles just mentioned, however, there did indeed exist considerable internal trouble over the restoration of the temple. When the external pressures against the temple construction compelled the task’s cessation, it was at first an internal issue before the external support of the Persian king was returned. The forces behind the continuation of the temple’s construction were the prophets Haggai and Zechariah (Ezra 5:1). Of course, not they alone drove the construction effort but their success in convincing Zerubbabel the royal governor and Joshua the high priest to resume it, even in defiance of royal orders: “So the LORD stirred up the spirit of Zerubbabel son of Shealtiel, governor of Judah, and the spirit of Joshua son of Jehozadak, the high priest, and the spirit of the whole remnant of the people. They came and began to work on the house of the LORD Almighty, their God, on the twenty-fourth day of the sixth month in the second year of King Darius” (Haggai 1:14-15). In this case, the internal order of Judea is at strife with its Persian master, and indeed it is from strife with the Persians that the internal troubles that brought Haggai and Zechariah into action arose. The internal and external are inseparable, a point taken much further under the leadership of Ezra and Nehemiah.
Nehemiah was unquestionably a man of power, as it is noted in the book bearing his name, “…I was cupbearer to the king” (Nehemiah 1:11), unquestionably an authority close to the Persian sovereign. His association with Judea is perhaps the most direct linking of Judean internal affairs with the policies of the Persian crown. He would become, after all, the governor of Judea in the twentieth year of King Artaxerxes (Nehemiah 5:14), a direct regional authority of the Persian Empire, and furthermore, Judea was separated from Samaria and made its own province at this time, giving it far greater independence and autonomy, the governor being one of its own. Furthermore, Persian allowance and even encouragement of Judean practices, wisely granted and in line with the usual procedure of Persian law, comes forth in Ezra himself. In the book of Ezra, it is recorded that Ezra was sent with any exiles desiring to accompany with orders to establish a legal system in Judea under the Law of Moses. In the letter with which Ezra was sent, King Artaxerxes wrote:
And you, Ezra, in accordance with the wisdom of your God, which you possess, appoint magistrates and judges to administer justice to all the people of Trans-Euphrates—all who know the laws of your God. And you are to teach any who do not know them. Whoever does not obey the law of your God and the law of the king must surely be punished by death, banishment, confiscation of property, or imprisonment. (Ezra 7:25-26)
True, this was all part of the Persian policy enunciated in the time of Cyrus, but for the Judeans, recently granted an independent province, it was surely striking to then be allowed to enforce their own law, rooted in their own tradition. As with any social change, though, the enforcement and interpretation of the Law of Moses under Ezra and Nehemiah’s reestablishment of Judean society had its difficulties, as it shall be seen.
As expectation would have it, the policies of Ezra and Nehemiah, though sanctioned rulers at the highest levels of their society, were not without opposition from Judea’s adversaries without as well as from within. These local and internal struggles go hand in hand, as the bulk of the troubles tended by Nehemiah consisted of local, outside influences seeping into internal affairs, challenging the renewing Judean autonomy. There is scarcely a better example of this than Nehemiah’s first major pursuit in Judea, the reconstruction of the walls. Surrounding authorities, named as Sanballat the Horonite, Tobiah the Ammonite and Geshem the Arab (Nehemiah 2:19), are noted to have troubled the effort at every turn, and they continued to harass the Judeans even unto the wall’s completion. The book of Nehemiah impresses upon the reader that they were a constant source of threats and treachery, telling tale of all manner of deceit and underhanded practices in attempting to discredit Nehemiah and undermine his leadership (Nehemiah 6:1-14). It does indeed make sense that surrounding officials would desire regional superiority, and it is the reflection of this struggle to subjugate any rise in Judean power seen here from the Judean perspective. It also effectively vilifies the foreigners as pernicious not only to the underlying aims for autonomy, but also as morally subverted and thereby contrary to all things righteous and Judean.
Also prominently featured is the issue of intermarriage with foreigners, the dangers of which threatened to pollute the purity of the Jewish bloodline and integrate the Jews and to integrate them out of any independent existence. This was not without precedent. After the Assyrians conquered the northern kingdom of Israel in the eighth century BC and deported its elite population (II Kings 17), the land was resettled, and both the people there and their beliefs became integrated (Antiquities, IX. 288-291), this being the core of the tensions between Judea and Samaria in postexilic times, as the first century AD Jewish, Roman historian Josephus notes in his Antiquities. The focus of Ezra and Nehemiah, of course, was within Judea, which the Babylonians did not resettle following the deportation of the Judean elites. Though this kept Judea from Samaria’s fate during the exile, the returning, elite exiles had spent all their lives in the lands of outsiders and around non-Jews. Certainly, also, it is the practice of elite populations to mingle with and marry their children into other powerful families. This appears to have been the case in fifth century Judea when, in asserting Judean isolation, “…Ezra the priest stood up and said to them, ‘You have been unfaithful; you have married foreign women, adding to Israel's guilt. Now make confession to the LORD, the God of your fathers, and do his will. Separate yourselves from the peoples around you and from your foreign wives’” (Ezra 10:10-11). Indeed, this problem is noted among the returned exiles, not among the throngs that the Babylonians had left in Judea all along, implying quite distinctly the class from which the offenders came, or at least the offenders that raised the ire of Ezra and Nehemiah. Thus it was their aim in enforcing these marital restrictions to keep the rulers of the Judean society, especially the priests, independent within themselves, both for the communal survival of the society and certainly with potential problems with future inheritances in mind, as well.
This disciplining of Judean high society was by no means limited to the marriage issue, though. The decrees against usury also played very prominently in the ruling classes, as Nehemiah decried the apparently significant trouble wrought upon Judean society by its widespread practice. First describing the dire straits of poverty, the book of Nehemiah recalls, “I pondered them in my mind and then accused the nobles and officials. I told them, ‘You are exacting usury from your own countrymen!’ So I called together a large meeting to deal with them” (Nehemiah 5:7). Further complicating the matter was that the indebted had begun to sell their children into slavery in foreign lands, which was obviously entirely unacceptable to the likes of Nehemiah. Indeed, in an isolationist society struggling to cast out foreign influence, the loss of population to foreigners would prove to be terribly injurious, and the fact that it was imposed by completely internal forces seems the ultimate insult to top it all off. Once again, the enforcement of the Law of Moses and its interpretive application to the situation at hand served the unifying and segregating ends of Ezra and Nehemiah, those representatives of both Persian authority and of Judean independence.
When the Persian Empire fell before Alexander the Great in the fourth century BC, the Judeans found themselves under a new, Hellenistic master. Josephus gives a romanticized account of Alexander’s encounter with Jerusalem in his Antiquities with a simultaneous praise of Judean virtue and strike against Samaritan duplicity. He first describes how a dream of Alexander’s compelled him to bow before the Judean God at the sight of the high priest in his vestments, who had been commanded in a dream of his own to go out of the city therein with a great multitude to meet Alexander (Antiquities, XI. 331-335). Afterward, Alexander showed great favor to the Judeans, granting them all manner of freedoms to maintain the traditional customs allowed under the Persians, even allowing some to join his army with the same promise (Antiquities, XI. 338). Now, in this situation, Josephus says that the Samaritans broke their oath of loyalty to the Persians as soon as Alexander’s approaching victory became evident, whereas the Judeans would not break their own oath even in the face of Alexander’s army (Antiquities, XI. 315-321), highlighting the continued hostilities between Judea and Samaria, regardless of the ruler to which they might be subject. Whatever the details, the Judeans received favorable treatment from Alexander’s administration, this much is granted. Indeed, there was scarcely any immediate change in the Judean way of life between Persian and Greek rule, excepting the destination of their tribute. Thus the next notable progression would be the continued development of the Hellenistic world under Ptolemaic Egypt, the Diadochic kingdom that gained control of Judea following Alexander’s death.
Under Ptolemaic rule, new issues did indeed come into being among the Judeans as the Judean elites assumed positions of power in the new order, one known for the prevalence of bribery and for its system of tax-farming. In addition, the period was defined by consistent conflict between Ptolemaic Egypt and the Seleucid Empire, a conflict which extended into the world of the Judean elites, dividing many between factions of Ptolemy supporters and Seleucid supporters. The latter point is visible in the life of Hyrcanus, as recorded in Josephus’ Antiquities. Hyrcanus became a favorite of Ptolemy essentially by bribery with his father’s money (Antiquities, XII. 216-221), and Josephus writes that this greatly incensed his brothers, to the point that they met him in battle, causing him to flee across the Jordan (Antiquities, XII. 222-223). There he constructed a fortress, where he lived out the remainder of his life until committing suicide in the reign of Antiochus IV Epiphanies around the year 168 BC. Josephus informs his readers that Hyrcanus’ reasoning behind killing himself was his “seeing how great was the power which Antiocus had, and fearing he might be captured by him and punished for what he had done to the Arabs…” (Antiquities, XII. 235-236). Just as all hope was lost for Ptolemaic Egypt to regain control of Judea and its surroundings; all hope for Hyrcanus was also lost. This rather direct tie between Hyrcanus’ conflict and the conflict between the Ptolemies and the Seleucids is strongly indicative of a mirrored factional struggle on the same grounds among the Judean elites. Again it is outside meddling bringing strife among the Judeans, but internal struggle fuels its own flame.
Before this abrupt conclusion with the coming of Seleucid rule, though, there are indeed interactions between the Judeans and the Ptolemaic rulers to be considered, particularly in relation to the common elitist practices of bribery and tax-farming, the two of which often go hand in hand. Among the Zenon papyri, for instance, there are featured the details of gifts for both Apollonios in one letter and to King Ptolemy in another. These letters came from a certain Toubias, a Judean of notable importance to be able to address a letter directly to Ptolemy himself (Tcherikover 126-129). It is worth asking, for what other purpose would he send these luxurious gifts but to keep the favor of his superiors? Furthermore, Hyrcanus’ father, Joseph, made his fortune as a tax-farmer, according to Josephus’ less than historical, but not entirely unhistorical narrative. Joseph began to win over Ptolemy when “he himself…hospitably received the envoy sent by Ptolemy; and after presenting him with valuable gifts and entertaining lavishly for many days, he sent him on ahead to the king…” (Antiquities, XII. 165). Invariably, this prompted the envoy to speak very highly of Joseph with the king, a fact of which Joseph took full advantage when he charmed the king into granting him tax-farming rights later on. Of course, also, Hyrcanus later mirrored his father’s actions on a far more grandiose scale, as noted. The heroic romanticizing of these characters by Josephus goes very far in showing the general acceptance of the aforementioned system, not at all unlike that of the Romans of Josephus’ day, among the Judean elites. It was not a matter of opposing its unsavory aspects; it was a matter of maintaining the Law of Moses as far as the political order would reasonably allow.
Indeed, by no means does Josephus concede such a thought as that the Judean nobles might be falling heavily under foreign influences. On the contrary, he provides the episode between Joseph and his brother, Solymius’ daughter. Joseph, greatly desiring a dancing-girl he saw while dining with Ptolemy in Alexandria, requested that his brother, whose daughter they had taken to Alexandria to find a suitable, Jewish husband from the large Jewish population in that city as part of the dispersion, help him cover this unlawful amorous pursuit. Instead, Joseph’s brother sought to protect Joseph from scandal, and instead provided his own daughter to the drunken Joseph (Antiquities, XII. 186-188). Eventually, she became his second wife and the mother of Hyrcanus. This surviving preoccupation against foreigners but not against a lesser sin which could go unnoticed demonstrates most of all the importance of appearance among these elites. Whereas nothing lawful could come of Joseph’s relationship with the dancing-girl, a legitimate marriage was produced from the brother’s trick, and this is all that would be seen. In general terms, this meant that they could be functionally a part of the foreign, in this case Ptolemaic, society, while retaining the tie to Judea and its customs, remaining distinctly Jewish. This is the strange synthesis of the internal morality dictated by the Law with the external politics of the foreign rulers.
Even upon the return from Babylon, the Judeans were faced with a conflict between external politics and their internal affairs, and this played significantly upon the Judean ruling class, which was necessarily part of both systems, even in contradiction. At that time, a hostile world lay all around, and the Persian Empire’s policy was the province’s protection. Thanks to its overlord was it able to build itself up as a distinct entity, not in spite of it. Rather, in spite of its neighbors did Judea resurrect itself independently. As time drew on, Persian policy continued to align with Judean aims, as the Persian Empire made Judea its own province, appointed Nehemiah to be its governor, and sent Ezra to establish its legal system, which he did according to the Law of Moses, of which he was called a scribe. The work of Ezra and Nehemiah at last ensured the continued existence of a place called Judea, inhabited by its own Judeans, and thisplace and its people continued to change beyond them, especially with the inundation of Hellenistic influences in volumes far greater than ever before after Alexander’s conquest. The Judean elites were then forced to adapt to or reject a new sort of society and a new set of rulers under the Egyptian Ptolemaic dynasty. As always, the question of foreign influence was essential to the Judeans’ approach to the situation, and the gamut of responses was concocted. None of this, however, on any account broke Judean society down. Not even the exile achieved such a feat as that. Instead, the Judean rulers were able to maintain throughout this period basically good relations with their superiors while simultaneously maintaining internal independence, even in the face of often incessant regional struggles or, later, factional strife. Though conflict was a constant, it seems that the advancement of this history depended upon it.
Bibliography
The Bible: II Kings, Ezra, Nehemiah, Daniel, Haggai. New International Version. Zondervan, Grand Rapids, Michigan: 1984.
Josephus, Ralph Marcus tr. Jewish Antiquities. Harvard University Press, Cambridge, Massachusetts: 1987.
Pritchard, James ed. The Ancient Near East. Volume 1, An Anthology of Texts and Pictures. Princeton University Press, Princeton: 1958.
Tcherikover, Victor and Alexander Fuks, eds. Corpus Papyrorum Judaicarum. Harvard University Press, Cambridge, Massachusetts: 1957.
14 February 2008
St. Valentine's Day Massacree
Happy St. Valentine's Day, O noble friends. On this day we commemorate martyrdom of St. Valentine of Rome under Claudius II, the very god-emperor on the coin I received for my birthday, in addition of several other martyred St. Valentines about whom I have no comment. Of course, we also must celebrate pagan fertility, for tomorrow is Lupercalia! I do not know how you plan to commemorate this excellent Roman festival, but allow me to tell of you of my acts on this day, beginning at six o'clock of the morning, the true beginning of any day, for that is the purpose of any weblog, to yell out into the aether all manner of dull details of daily existence!
At 6:00 am I sleep soundly, dreaming of something that I do not recall any longer. My excellent good friends certainly were not involved, though, as I did not awake with a warm bosom and happy thoughts. Fortunately, my dreams must not have been dark, either, as I did not awake in inexplicable misery.
At 7:05 am my alarm sounds. This is not pleasing to me, as it interrupts my dreams and forces me to face reality. I am not friend to the alarm. It is informed that I should prefer to snooze.
At 7:10 am my alarm tells me to cease snoozing. I tell it that I am not finished snoozing, and that I shall continue to snooze for as long as the will to snooze yet compels me to snooze.
At 7:15 am my alarm tells me once again to cease snoozing. I again tell it that I am still not finished snoozing, and that I shall continue to snooze as long as the will to snooze yet compels me to snooze.
At 7:20 am my alarms tells me once again that it is time to cease snoozing. I agree, so I rise from my bed, proceeding to engage in hygiene.
At 7:41 am I return to my room and ponder what I shall wear on this day. Observing my closet I find three shirts and two pairs of pants. Two of the shirts are beige, and one shirt is grey. Finding that decision difficult, I turn to pants. They are both the same, being blue jeans, so I take the pair nearest to me. Returning to the shirts, I reason within myself that if I wear the grey shirt, I will be left with naught but beige, but if I wear a beige shirt, I shall be left with both beige and grey. This compels me to choose beige, in the name of balance. Last I must find a pair of socks. Opening my sock drawer, I find several colors of socks: light grey, dark grey, beige, navy blue, and black. There are three pairs of light grey socks, which also happen to be my favorite color for my socks. I choose the lightest of the light grey socks. Having done these things, I dress myself.
At 7:48 am I don my coat, gloves, and satchel (which is far too excellent a word to pass up, even if it is not the most accurate descriptor). A mighty thirst, however, overcomes me, so I drink of the water that rests upon my dresser.
At 7:50 am I realize that I have ten minutes to reach my destination, which happens to be a ten minute walk away. I depart.
At 8:00 am I arrive at my destination, which is The Development of Christianity, as taught by Dr. Edwin Yamauchi. Again, I encourage you, my friends, to read his books.
At 9:15 am I depart thence walking, enduring the elements at a slower pace, causing my walk to near fifteen minutes in length.
At 9:28 I arrive once again in my room, and I notice the unfinished Greek work on my desk, due at 11:00 am. I listen to Jethro Tull's Heavy Horses and finish that wretched task.
At 9:47 am, still listening to Heavy Horses, I complete the appointed Greek translation (in this case the rare horror of English to Greek) and activate my computer. I visit most of my usual internet destinations, and then I come to my own weblog.
At 10:06 am I begin writing of my St. Valentine's Day, as recorded here now.
At 10:23 am I must choose a new music to hear, Heavy Horses having ended not long before. The latter album always fills me with great joy according to association. Now I hear Debussy's La Mer.
At 10:28 am I ponder the immense humor inherent in the word "snooze," and I use it an obscene number of times as I describe the acts of my St. Valentine's Day.
At 10:46 am La Mer ends. I think about going out to learn Greek.
At 10:50 am I realize that I must find my way to my Greek class by 11:00 am, despite the fact that it is a fifteen minute walk away. I walk with great expediency.
At 11:01 am I arrive for Greek, but I am on time.
At 11:56 am I complete the learning of Greek on this day, and I go out and across a courtyard to another stately edifice where I must learn philosophy.
At 12:02 pm I take a seat in the front room of this stately edifice, and sitting there I muse. The things I muse about are these: snow, ice, sunlight, moonlight, starlight, the latter three reflected on the former two, trees, icy trees, water, flowing water, music, poetry, romance, and phantoms.
At 12:19 pm I take myself upstairs to learn philosophy. I learn several things, none of them philosophical. Also, I learn several other things, all of them philosophical.
At 1:47 pm I am released from philosophizing, and I stare out the window for a short while. for the sun is shining across the frozen trees. Afterward I depart, planning to meet myself for a repulsive luncheon alone in celebration of St. Valentine's Day.
At 2:06, having obtained my repulsive luncheon, I eat it. It consists of a sandwich and potato-like substance. Someone forgot to put the swiss cheese on my sandwich, making me sad thereby, and the potato-like substance was much too hot. Thus did I eat a truly repulsive luncheon.
At 2:16 pm I divined that I must replenish my supplies of water and juice, both of which I love to drink, so I walk to the shop down the hall from the repulsive food court. Now, in purchasing water, I am given three options. The first is a very large bottle of tap water which tastes of government tampering, sure to impurify my precious bodily fluids. I do not purchase this water. The second is a lesser bottle of tap water, also tasting of government tampering, but it possesses a bit more class. All the same, I do not purchase it. The third choice is purified water that claims to come from lands far away. I do not know about lands far away, but this water has been purified of government tampering at least, so I purchase it. The juice selection is much simpler: cherry-pomegranate and blackberry-blueberry. I would purchase pomegranate-blueberry, but I already have some. Having paid for these things, I return to my room, braving the lessening cold and witnessing the inevitable fleeting of profound beauty, that is, the melting of the frozen trees. I recall my wanderings in the frozen field last midnight under clear, starry skies, thereby fulfilling several dreams of mine.
At 2:28 pm I reach my dwelling, and I deposit my beverages in the refrigerator. Also, I turn my computer on, desiring to relate to my dear beloved friends my St. Valentine's Day celebrations. As that begins, I recall the three "Candy-Grams" I purchased last week to be delivered on this day. It is clear to me that they were never sent, despite the fact that I paid for them, as none of the intended recipients, three fellows in the corridor who would not understand, received them. They all were supposed to contain inappropriate passages from my poem, The Cockatrice. This is all very disappointing, for I had so been looking forward to the reactions of these individuals receiving anonymous, strange poetry.
At 2:40 pm I begin recounting my acts once again, also playing "Echoes," by Pink Floyd. "Echoes" ends shortly after 3:00, and I do not listen to anything else, as I must depart for unpleasantness at 3:15 or so.
At 3:20 pm I cease once again writing, taking up my coat and other necessary possessions, going out to face considerable boredom and longsuffering.
At 3:31 pm I arrive slightly late to be educated in Ancient Jewish History according to the radical minimalist interpretation spawned out of Julius Wellhausen's principle of higher criticism in the historical interpretation of the Hebrew Scriptures. While there, the professor spoke the word "right" 329 times over a period of one hour and fifteen minutes. On 24 January he spoke it 261 times and on 29 January he spoke it 268 times. Statistically speaking, he has spoken it an approximate mean of thrice every minute or once every twenty seconds, and that is just asinine. Today he even said, "That would be wrong, right?" It is very funny especially when I realize that I frequently do not agree with him. "Right? Right?" he says. "Wrong," I say.
At 4:51 pm, the villain having run his class late, I depart for the great fun of piano studio class, which consists of an hour and a half of listening to my fellow piano students play, the interest of which runs the gamut of thoroughly excellent to numbingly dull, followed by the upperclasspeople and graduate students commenting upon the performance.
At 6:26 pm piano studio class ends, and I return to my room and gather my things in preparation for an early departure. I have stated before that I am taking Friday off on the grounds that I can do so with little effect.
At 6:57 pm transport my things to the automobile that will take me away.
At 7:05 pm the automobile takes me away. The radio begins to distress me shortly thereafter, so it is changed to WGUC 90.9 FM, which is playing love songs and romance-associated music. It plays several nice pieces of music, including a Borodin string quartet, but then it begins to play some less nice music, so I cease listening to the radio, instead resorting to the compact discs. On the way back I obtain a dinner of "fast food."
At 7:58 pm I arrive at home to my lush river valley, and I dine on my "fast food." I also dine on a salad of field greens, and I drink a delicious cherry-pomegranate juice. The lights are dimmed, and I accompany my meal on the synthesized harpsichord. It is very nice, and I wish my friends could have been there.
At 8:00 pm, in the meantime, my family turns on the television to watch Lost, which I watch with them. First the previous week's episode is played. I missed it last week, so I watch it at this time. An hour later, the new episode is broadcast, garnering my interest.
At 10:07 pm I play the piano to myself for a brief while. It is Bach's Two-Part Invention in Bb, that is number fourteen, and I play it several times.
At 10:28 pm I engage in my nighttime hygiene ritual. As I do this I philosophize. The things about which I philosophize are these: blasphemy, ontology, the inversion of ontology, double-edged swords, modes of analysis, the simplification of the whole, form, Platonic Forms, ideal forms, qualities, and illusions.
At 11:05 pm I return to my underground lair, where I decide to watch insipid television in the form of cartoons. It is time, I think, for a bit of mindlessness.
At 12:07 am I remind my friends that my days change at 6:00 am. Also, I take up typing the acts of my day once more. I am also watching the film Batman Begins at this point, which have discovered is being broadcast on the television.
At 12:56 am I complete my St. Valentine's Day romance, wishing my noble friends an excellent St. Valentine's Day, also. Until I decide to sleep I shall muse some more on musical matters, for I have several ideas, both musical and esoteric, that need writing.
In conclusion, I provide a work of poetry (the most appropriate Art for St. Valentine's Day), about which I make no claims of quality or indeed any positive claim at all, except that I wrote it, that the numbers (not the dates, mind you) associated therewith are of importance, and that it was composed on the following dates:
12 October 2007, 7 December 2007, 8 December 2007, 18 December 2007, 20 December 2007, 29 December 2007, 13 January 2008, 28 January 2008, 8 February 2008, 12 February 2008.
You might think it should be longer or better, but it is not so, alas!
________
Best it be that thy savor be sung
with reveries rung
on bells heavenly hung
high atop peaks aethereal (where
mountain mists most fair
linger long in the air)
on a crystalline carillon carved in twilight,
but befallen by night,
gilded in pale moonlight,
and an arcane chorus calls out over the moor
that neither valley nor
hilltop hears not the roar
of obscure echoes and shadowy dreams
conjured alone in the misty moonbeams.
At 6:00 am I sleep soundly, dreaming of something that I do not recall any longer. My excellent good friends certainly were not involved, though, as I did not awake with a warm bosom and happy thoughts. Fortunately, my dreams must not have been dark, either, as I did not awake in inexplicable misery.
At 7:05 am my alarm sounds. This is not pleasing to me, as it interrupts my dreams and forces me to face reality. I am not friend to the alarm. It is informed that I should prefer to snooze.
At 7:10 am my alarm tells me to cease snoozing. I tell it that I am not finished snoozing, and that I shall continue to snooze for as long as the will to snooze yet compels me to snooze.
At 7:15 am my alarm tells me once again to cease snoozing. I again tell it that I am still not finished snoozing, and that I shall continue to snooze as long as the will to snooze yet compels me to snooze.
At 7:20 am my alarms tells me once again that it is time to cease snoozing. I agree, so I rise from my bed, proceeding to engage in hygiene.
At 7:41 am I return to my room and ponder what I shall wear on this day. Observing my closet I find three shirts and two pairs of pants. Two of the shirts are beige, and one shirt is grey. Finding that decision difficult, I turn to pants. They are both the same, being blue jeans, so I take the pair nearest to me. Returning to the shirts, I reason within myself that if I wear the grey shirt, I will be left with naught but beige, but if I wear a beige shirt, I shall be left with both beige and grey. This compels me to choose beige, in the name of balance. Last I must find a pair of socks. Opening my sock drawer, I find several colors of socks: light grey, dark grey, beige, navy blue, and black. There are three pairs of light grey socks, which also happen to be my favorite color for my socks. I choose the lightest of the light grey socks. Having done these things, I dress myself.
At 7:48 am I don my coat, gloves, and satchel (which is far too excellent a word to pass up, even if it is not the most accurate descriptor). A mighty thirst, however, overcomes me, so I drink of the water that rests upon my dresser.
At 7:50 am I realize that I have ten minutes to reach my destination, which happens to be a ten minute walk away. I depart.
At 8:00 am I arrive at my destination, which is The Development of Christianity, as taught by Dr. Edwin Yamauchi. Again, I encourage you, my friends, to read his books.
At 9:15 am I depart thence walking, enduring the elements at a slower pace, causing my walk to near fifteen minutes in length.
At 9:28 I arrive once again in my room, and I notice the unfinished Greek work on my desk, due at 11:00 am. I listen to Jethro Tull's Heavy Horses and finish that wretched task.
At 9:47 am, still listening to Heavy Horses, I complete the appointed Greek translation (in this case the rare horror of English to Greek) and activate my computer. I visit most of my usual internet destinations, and then I come to my own weblog.
At 10:06 am I begin writing of my St. Valentine's Day, as recorded here now.
At 10:23 am I must choose a new music to hear, Heavy Horses having ended not long before. The latter album always fills me with great joy according to association. Now I hear Debussy's La Mer.
At 10:28 am I ponder the immense humor inherent in the word "snooze," and I use it an obscene number of times as I describe the acts of my St. Valentine's Day.
At 10:46 am La Mer ends. I think about going out to learn Greek.
At 10:50 am I realize that I must find my way to my Greek class by 11:00 am, despite the fact that it is a fifteen minute walk away. I walk with great expediency.
At 11:01 am I arrive for Greek, but I am on time.
At 11:56 am I complete the learning of Greek on this day, and I go out and across a courtyard to another stately edifice where I must learn philosophy.
At 12:02 pm I take a seat in the front room of this stately edifice, and sitting there I muse. The things I muse about are these: snow, ice, sunlight, moonlight, starlight, the latter three reflected on the former two, trees, icy trees, water, flowing water, music, poetry, romance, and phantoms.
At 12:19 pm I take myself upstairs to learn philosophy. I learn several things, none of them philosophical. Also, I learn several other things, all of them philosophical.
At 1:47 pm I am released from philosophizing, and I stare out the window for a short while. for the sun is shining across the frozen trees. Afterward I depart, planning to meet myself for a repulsive luncheon alone in celebration of St. Valentine's Day.
At 2:06, having obtained my repulsive luncheon, I eat it. It consists of a sandwich and potato-like substance. Someone forgot to put the swiss cheese on my sandwich, making me sad thereby, and the potato-like substance was much too hot. Thus did I eat a truly repulsive luncheon.
At 2:16 pm I divined that I must replenish my supplies of water and juice, both of which I love to drink, so I walk to the shop down the hall from the repulsive food court. Now, in purchasing water, I am given three options. The first is a very large bottle of tap water which tastes of government tampering, sure to impurify my precious bodily fluids. I do not purchase this water. The second is a lesser bottle of tap water, also tasting of government tampering, but it possesses a bit more class. All the same, I do not purchase it. The third choice is purified water that claims to come from lands far away. I do not know about lands far away, but this water has been purified of government tampering at least, so I purchase it. The juice selection is much simpler: cherry-pomegranate and blackberry-blueberry. I would purchase pomegranate-blueberry, but I already have some. Having paid for these things, I return to my room, braving the lessening cold and witnessing the inevitable fleeting of profound beauty, that is, the melting of the frozen trees. I recall my wanderings in the frozen field last midnight under clear, starry skies, thereby fulfilling several dreams of mine.
At 2:28 pm I reach my dwelling, and I deposit my beverages in the refrigerator. Also, I turn my computer on, desiring to relate to my dear beloved friends my St. Valentine's Day celebrations. As that begins, I recall the three "Candy-Grams" I purchased last week to be delivered on this day. It is clear to me that they were never sent, despite the fact that I paid for them, as none of the intended recipients, three fellows in the corridor who would not understand, received them. They all were supposed to contain inappropriate passages from my poem, The Cockatrice. This is all very disappointing, for I had so been looking forward to the reactions of these individuals receiving anonymous, strange poetry.
At 2:40 pm I begin recounting my acts once again, also playing "Echoes," by Pink Floyd. "Echoes" ends shortly after 3:00, and I do not listen to anything else, as I must depart for unpleasantness at 3:15 or so.
At 3:20 pm I cease once again writing, taking up my coat and other necessary possessions, going out to face considerable boredom and longsuffering.
At 3:31 pm I arrive slightly late to be educated in Ancient Jewish History according to the radical minimalist interpretation spawned out of Julius Wellhausen's principle of higher criticism in the historical interpretation of the Hebrew Scriptures. While there, the professor spoke the word "right" 329 times over a period of one hour and fifteen minutes. On 24 January he spoke it 261 times and on 29 January he spoke it 268 times. Statistically speaking, he has spoken it an approximate mean of thrice every minute or once every twenty seconds, and that is just asinine. Today he even said, "That would be wrong, right?" It is very funny especially when I realize that I frequently do not agree with him. "Right? Right?" he says. "Wrong," I say.
At 4:51 pm, the villain having run his class late, I depart for the great fun of piano studio class, which consists of an hour and a half of listening to my fellow piano students play, the interest of which runs the gamut of thoroughly excellent to numbingly dull, followed by the upperclasspeople and graduate students commenting upon the performance.
At 6:26 pm piano studio class ends, and I return to my room and gather my things in preparation for an early departure. I have stated before that I am taking Friday off on the grounds that I can do so with little effect.
At 6:57 pm transport my things to the automobile that will take me away.
At 7:05 pm the automobile takes me away. The radio begins to distress me shortly thereafter, so it is changed to WGUC 90.9 FM, which is playing love songs and romance-associated music. It plays several nice pieces of music, including a Borodin string quartet, but then it begins to play some less nice music, so I cease listening to the radio, instead resorting to the compact discs. On the way back I obtain a dinner of "fast food."
At 7:58 pm I arrive at home to my lush river valley, and I dine on my "fast food." I also dine on a salad of field greens, and I drink a delicious cherry-pomegranate juice. The lights are dimmed, and I accompany my meal on the synthesized harpsichord. It is very nice, and I wish my friends could have been there.
At 8:00 pm, in the meantime, my family turns on the television to watch Lost, which I watch with them. First the previous week's episode is played. I missed it last week, so I watch it at this time. An hour later, the new episode is broadcast, garnering my interest.
At 10:07 pm I play the piano to myself for a brief while. It is Bach's Two-Part Invention in Bb, that is number fourteen, and I play it several times.
At 10:28 pm I engage in my nighttime hygiene ritual. As I do this I philosophize. The things about which I philosophize are these: blasphemy, ontology, the inversion of ontology, double-edged swords, modes of analysis, the simplification of the whole, form, Platonic Forms, ideal forms, qualities, and illusions.
At 11:05 pm I return to my underground lair, where I decide to watch insipid television in the form of cartoons. It is time, I think, for a bit of mindlessness.
At 12:07 am I remind my friends that my days change at 6:00 am. Also, I take up typing the acts of my day once more. I am also watching the film Batman Begins at this point, which have discovered is being broadcast on the television.
At 12:56 am I complete my St. Valentine's Day romance, wishing my noble friends an excellent St. Valentine's Day, also. Until I decide to sleep I shall muse some more on musical matters, for I have several ideas, both musical and esoteric, that need writing.
In conclusion, I provide a work of poetry (the most appropriate Art for St. Valentine's Day), about which I make no claims of quality or indeed any positive claim at all, except that I wrote it, that the numbers (not the dates, mind you) associated therewith are of importance, and that it was composed on the following dates:
12 October 2007, 7 December 2007, 8 December 2007, 18 December 2007, 20 December 2007, 29 December 2007, 13 January 2008, 28 January 2008, 8 February 2008, 12 February 2008.
You might think it should be longer or better, but it is not so, alas!
________
Best it be that thy savor be sung
with reveries rung
on bells heavenly hung
high atop peaks aethereal (where
mountain mists most fair
linger long in the air)
on a crystalline carillon carved in twilight,
but befallen by night,
gilded in pale moonlight,
and an arcane chorus calls out over the moor
that neither valley nor
hilltop hears not the roar
of obscure echoes and shadowy dreams
conjured alone in the misty moonbeams.
11 February 2008
In Celebration of Myself
Happy birthday! Happy birthday! Happy birthday to me!
My friends, I tell you the truth on this eleventh day of February, that it is a day to celebrate my being, more so than other days. I bid you all, make a festival among yourselves with song and revelry, thereby bringing joyfulness overflowing unto all the multitudes. Shame on The Man for leaving his institutions open on this day, doing injury to the revelry, which shall all the same bring joyfulness overflowing unto all the multitudes!
Yesterday I hosted my own revelry, and I was gifted with several new possessions, as per the usual practice of celebrating one's being. I tell you of these:
I. A Greek New Testament, for reading the New Testament in its original tongue. I am much enthused to put it to use in the near future. Of course, I did have the good sense to also posses a dictionary to compensate for my very much lacking Greek vocabulary.
II. God and Other Minds by Alvin Plantinga (1967), which I understand to be one of the most important texts in the philosophy of religion to arise in the latter half of the twentieth century.
III. The Kalam Cosmological Argument by William Lane Craig (1979), which I understand to be another of the most important texts in the philosophy of religion to arise in the latter half of the twentieth century.
IV. Harper's World of the New Testament by Edwin Yamauchi (1981), which he references often in his lectures on the same subject. On a side note, the Good Doctor Yamauchi has found his work cited in the books of William Lane Craig, J. P. Moreland, and Lee Strobel (especially), to name a few.
V. A pocket watch, the likes of which I have long dreamed of acquiring. I shall use it when attending cultural events, along with my vest, with which I was also gifted.
VI. Stormwatch, which is a Jethro Tull album which I have been wishing to hear. I still have not heard it because it decided to remain in the mail for far too long where it remains even now.
VII. A third century Roman coin from the reign of Claudius II. The latter emperor was deified as part of the imperial cultic tradition, and I think it is neat to possess a coin with a pagan god on it.
VIII. I remind my friends of my excellent musical machine, which I love dearly.
IX. A personal five-day vacation from the Academy, from the coming Friday until the following Wednesday. Thanks to President's Day, the Academy has chosen to place my Monday classes on Tuesday of next week. I have no Monday classes, so I get Tuesday off, also. The preceding Friday I am simply choosing not to appear at my solitary Greek class, on which day there is nothing notable on the syllabus.
X. It will be snowing soon. It is nice to see that the Divinity has once again chosen to gift me in this way. My friends might recall the snow of ice of almost precisely one year ago in the area of my home.
Aside from these gains, I shall speak of yesterday's revelry itself, which consisted of feasting and socializing among my dear beloved relatives. The feast was particularly excellent, even more excellent than an ordinary feast. The socializing may have been excellent; I do not know. I do not understand about conversational matters, hard though I try. The revelry brought happiness to me at least; therefore, it must have been successful. For this reason I encourage revelry among my noble friends, that the same happiness might be attained in celebration of me.
May all your festivals be groovy. You have my blessing.
My friends, I tell you the truth on this eleventh day of February, that it is a day to celebrate my being, more so than other days. I bid you all, make a festival among yourselves with song and revelry, thereby bringing joyfulness overflowing unto all the multitudes. Shame on The Man for leaving his institutions open on this day, doing injury to the revelry, which shall all the same bring joyfulness overflowing unto all the multitudes!
Yesterday I hosted my own revelry, and I was gifted with several new possessions, as per the usual practice of celebrating one's being. I tell you of these:
I. A Greek New Testament, for reading the New Testament in its original tongue. I am much enthused to put it to use in the near future. Of course, I did have the good sense to also posses a dictionary to compensate for my very much lacking Greek vocabulary.
II. God and Other Minds by Alvin Plantinga (1967), which I understand to be one of the most important texts in the philosophy of religion to arise in the latter half of the twentieth century.
III. The Kalam Cosmological Argument by William Lane Craig (1979), which I understand to be another of the most important texts in the philosophy of religion to arise in the latter half of the twentieth century.
IV. Harper's World of the New Testament by Edwin Yamauchi (1981), which he references often in his lectures on the same subject. On a side note, the Good Doctor Yamauchi has found his work cited in the books of William Lane Craig, J. P. Moreland, and Lee Strobel (especially), to name a few.
V. A pocket watch, the likes of which I have long dreamed of acquiring. I shall use it when attending cultural events, along with my vest, with which I was also gifted.
VI. Stormwatch, which is a Jethro Tull album which I have been wishing to hear. I still have not heard it because it decided to remain in the mail for far too long where it remains even now.
VII. A third century Roman coin from the reign of Claudius II. The latter emperor was deified as part of the imperial cultic tradition, and I think it is neat to possess a coin with a pagan god on it.
VIII. I remind my friends of my excellent musical machine, which I love dearly.
IX. A personal five-day vacation from the Academy, from the coming Friday until the following Wednesday. Thanks to President's Day, the Academy has chosen to place my Monday classes on Tuesday of next week. I have no Monday classes, so I get Tuesday off, also. The preceding Friday I am simply choosing not to appear at my solitary Greek class, on which day there is nothing notable on the syllabus.
X. It will be snowing soon. It is nice to see that the Divinity has once again chosen to gift me in this way. My friends might recall the snow of ice of almost precisely one year ago in the area of my home.
Aside from these gains, I shall speak of yesterday's revelry itself, which consisted of feasting and socializing among my dear beloved relatives. The feast was particularly excellent, even more excellent than an ordinary feast. The socializing may have been excellent; I do not know. I do not understand about conversational matters, hard though I try. The revelry brought happiness to me at least; therefore, it must have been successful. For this reason I encourage revelry among my noble friends, that the same happiness might be attained in celebration of me.
May all your festivals be groovy. You have my blessing.
10 February 2008
The Viola or: The Lonesome and Weeping Gael
Happy midnight or thereabout, my friends. On this night I shall speak in praise of one of the finest of orchestral instruments, the viola. I have a special love of the viola which I have harbored for many years, and the writing of viola parts has always provided me with immense pleasure, notably more so than other instruments. This is not without reason, and indeed this reasoning has not gone undone before.
The viola is a very profoundly melancholy instrument, and some of the best orchestral passages consist of a lonesome viola melody briefly weeping over some soft secondary part only to be swiftly swept away, leaving a longing in the listener for more of the same. The brilliance of the effect is just that: it necessarily evokes its intended expression in the listener. Berlioz observes this in his 1846 book, Treatise on Instrumentation. With my particular tastes in music (basically dark, otherwise aethereal), how could I fail to adore such sound?
Furthermore, the viola covers my favorite range of notes (my favorite note is perhaps Bb3) all the while using a somewhat archaic clef, which is of course the alto clef. Interestingly, there are also soprano and tenor clefs that use the same shape on different lines of the staff, the former being thoroughly unused today, and the latter finding most of its use in the upper trombone parts. This arose (like most musical matters) in vocal music. In using this alto clef, the viola defies its instrumental fellows, which is a fine thing for it to do. Indeed, the viola has reason to be lonely, for there is none like it, so it needs the friendship of those who see its individual might. We will not stand for those who say it is simply an enlarged, mutant violin. The viola is itself, and it deserves to be acknowledged as such.
Last, there are certain associations that the viola has developed in its history that are not to go ignored, and I refer particularly with its eighteenth century marriage with Ossianic poetry, another note of Berlioz. Admittedly, I do not know much about Ossianic poetry. Besides a general knowledge of its supposed Gaelic origins, I have read only very little of it, and that was quite by chance; however, the association is interesting to me, as it shows clearly that the viola is clearly the most Gaelic of all the instruments (just as the cymbals are the most Turkish of all the instruments), and this is its most important association, to the extent of my concern. This is a very significant point, but more on it later, I hope.
In summary, I think it is clear that the viola is absolutely indispensable, but that the writing of a viola part is not to be taken at all lightly, as it so often is. It is a basic point of orchestration (noted clearly by Rimsky-Korsakov in his Principles of Orchestration) that the strings are the most essential instrument type. This immediately brings the viola into a high position within the orchestra. It must now only be granted its due among the strings as more than some perpetual harmonic filler or doubler of some other instrument.
Anyone who has no love for the viola has no love for me. But anyone who has love of the viola has my love also.
The viola is a very profoundly melancholy instrument, and some of the best orchestral passages consist of a lonesome viola melody briefly weeping over some soft secondary part only to be swiftly swept away, leaving a longing in the listener for more of the same. The brilliance of the effect is just that: it necessarily evokes its intended expression in the listener. Berlioz observes this in his 1846 book, Treatise on Instrumentation. With my particular tastes in music (basically dark, otherwise aethereal), how could I fail to adore such sound?
Furthermore, the viola covers my favorite range of notes (my favorite note is perhaps Bb3) all the while using a somewhat archaic clef, which is of course the alto clef. Interestingly, there are also soprano and tenor clefs that use the same shape on different lines of the staff, the former being thoroughly unused today, and the latter finding most of its use in the upper trombone parts. This arose (like most musical matters) in vocal music. In using this alto clef, the viola defies its instrumental fellows, which is a fine thing for it to do. Indeed, the viola has reason to be lonely, for there is none like it, so it needs the friendship of those who see its individual might. We will not stand for those who say it is simply an enlarged, mutant violin. The viola is itself, and it deserves to be acknowledged as such.
Last, there are certain associations that the viola has developed in its history that are not to go ignored, and I refer particularly with its eighteenth century marriage with Ossianic poetry, another note of Berlioz. Admittedly, I do not know much about Ossianic poetry. Besides a general knowledge of its supposed Gaelic origins, I have read only very little of it, and that was quite by chance; however, the association is interesting to me, as it shows clearly that the viola is clearly the most Gaelic of all the instruments (just as the cymbals are the most Turkish of all the instruments), and this is its most important association, to the extent of my concern. This is a very significant point, but more on it later, I hope.
In summary, I think it is clear that the viola is absolutely indispensable, but that the writing of a viola part is not to be taken at all lightly, as it so often is. It is a basic point of orchestration (noted clearly by Rimsky-Korsakov in his Principles of Orchestration) that the strings are the most essential instrument type. This immediately brings the viola into a high position within the orchestra. It must now only be granted its due among the strings as more than some perpetual harmonic filler or doubler of some other instrument.
Anyone who has no love for the viola has no love for me. But anyone who has love of the viola has my love also.
05 February 2008
Soulful Things
My friends, it is time we got some Soul around here. Just dig it. Now let me relate some advice to you about musicians which was once related to me. When you meet a musician, there is something you must ask, and that is whether that musician has Soul.
"Do you got Soul?" you ask.
"I be down with your groove, Soul-sibling; ain't no one got Soul like me," says the musician.
Then it is possible to say that, yes indeed, the musician is a true musician, full of Soul, for no true musician lacks Soul, which instead overflows in abundance. Then you may both groove righteously into the setting of the sun. So I am told.
"Sjuzhet!"
"Gesundheit! That is, Health! That is, The Living God bless you!"
"Fabula!"
Aristotle tells us that there are three types of Soul: the vegetative Soul, the perceptive Soul, and the rational Soul. The vegetative Soul belongs to trees, which are able to nourish themselves with sunlight and water and things. The perceptive soul belongs to beasts, in addition to the vegetative soul. Beasts have both the power to nourish themselves and to perceive at least some senses, often allowing for independent locomotion. Trees do not do these things, for they lack the proper Soul. A rational Soul has been granted to mankind, and no others. Mankind can not only nourish itself and perceive with the senses, but also mankind can ponder, understand, and create, the latter being the most important. In this way mankind is more Soulful than the beasts and the trees.
Therefore, O friends, it would be better to converse with the musician, or any Artist for that matter, as follows:
"Do you got rational Soul?" you ask.
"I be down with your groove, rational Soul-sibling; ain't no one got rational Soul like me," says the Artist.
Only then do we find the Artist to be truly human. A Norway Spruce or a Squirrel therein would never respond in such a way, not being Soulful enough to do so. May we humbly thank Aristotle for granting us these sensations, that we might understand them, being rationally Soulful.
I am glad you are all so Soulful, my friends.
"Do you got Soul?" you ask.
"I be down with your groove, Soul-sibling; ain't no one got Soul like me," says the musician.
Then it is possible to say that, yes indeed, the musician is a true musician, full of Soul, for no true musician lacks Soul, which instead overflows in abundance. Then you may both groove righteously into the setting of the sun. So I am told.
"Sjuzhet!"
"Gesundheit! That is, Health! That is, The Living God bless you!"
"Fabula!"
Aristotle tells us that there are three types of Soul: the vegetative Soul, the perceptive Soul, and the rational Soul. The vegetative Soul belongs to trees, which are able to nourish themselves with sunlight and water and things. The perceptive soul belongs to beasts, in addition to the vegetative soul. Beasts have both the power to nourish themselves and to perceive at least some senses, often allowing for independent locomotion. Trees do not do these things, for they lack the proper Soul. A rational Soul has been granted to mankind, and no others. Mankind can not only nourish itself and perceive with the senses, but also mankind can ponder, understand, and create, the latter being the most important. In this way mankind is more Soulful than the beasts and the trees.
Therefore, O friends, it would be better to converse with the musician, or any Artist for that matter, as follows:
"Do you got rational Soul?" you ask.
"I be down with your groove, rational Soul-sibling; ain't no one got rational Soul like me," says the Artist.
Only then do we find the Artist to be truly human. A Norway Spruce or a Squirrel therein would never respond in such a way, not being Soulful enough to do so. May we humbly thank Aristotle for granting us these sensations, that we might understand them, being rationally Soulful.
I am glad you are all so Soulful, my friends.
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