On reading old books
I started out as a Poli Sci major long ago in the bygone days. And I have a minor in History. So you could say that I've been familiar with Alexis de Tocqueville's seminal work, Democracy in America for over fifty years. So how is it that I am now reading the actual book for the first time?
Well, it's like this. I learned the top ten quotes from Democracy in America from predigested books on politics or history and from lectures by people with advanced degrees. I'd never actually read the whole work, which is a whopping eleven hundred pages long (it drags in spots). So while I could tell you what de Tocqueville said about this or that (all very true and correct), there's a whole lot more that he said on related topics, some of which are particularly penetrating, while others, not so much. De Tocqueville's observations on the fate of Native Americans and enslaved Africans are particularly interesting. His predictions of an eventual Civil War seem prescient, except he assumed it would be white and black Southerners who eventually fought it out. (Close, but no cigar.) And when he bangs on and on about the manners of the Americans, I start skipping paragraphs. Anyway, I'm glad to be finally getting to grips with the whole work, and not just depending on summaries.
Likewise, I have read several works of literary criticism of The Lord of the Rings over the years, all of which cite the same passages from Old Norse as inspiration for various parts of Tolkien's work. Having since read the Eddas and other Old Norse works by themselves, I can see that the nuggets that are always quoted are just that, nuggets torn from the matrix of whole poems in which they are utterly incidental. The Eddas are not treasure troves of Tolkienian references; they are their own thing.
Once upon a time, to be considered educated, one had to have read certain things; even, to have read them in their original languages. But as time has ground on, it has been usual to get canned summaries presented by prominent writers, presented by faculty, etc. We learn what Socrates said about X, but we rarely read the Dialogue in which he said it. We learn what Irenaeus or the Didache say about Y (especially if it supports our canned theology), but we rarely read the actual ancient works in full. The Great Books Series attempted to offer a correction, which was adopted by the University of Chicago as the basis of its general education requirements, but more people probably own a set of something like the Great Books than have actually read them.
This is not to denigrate anyone's understanding of one's professional field or even one's hobby. We all know what we know, and have acquired it from all kinds of sources, including what our grandparents told us. I'm not bragging because I've read Z (whether or not in the original language). I'm just saying that there are a lot of things we should have read. We don't even have to read them all in the time we're cramming in our basic education. We've got our whole lives in which to read and enjoy all kinds of things. And I continue to read and enjoy many things, still learning and growing even at my age and level of decrepitude.
Well, it's like this. I learned the top ten quotes from Democracy in America from predigested books on politics or history and from lectures by people with advanced degrees. I'd never actually read the whole work, which is a whopping eleven hundred pages long (it drags in spots). So while I could tell you what de Tocqueville said about this or that (all very true and correct), there's a whole lot more that he said on related topics, some of which are particularly penetrating, while others, not so much. De Tocqueville's observations on the fate of Native Americans and enslaved Africans are particularly interesting. His predictions of an eventual Civil War seem prescient, except he assumed it would be white and black Southerners who eventually fought it out. (Close, but no cigar.) And when he bangs on and on about the manners of the Americans, I start skipping paragraphs. Anyway, I'm glad to be finally getting to grips with the whole work, and not just depending on summaries.
Likewise, I have read several works of literary criticism of The Lord of the Rings over the years, all of which cite the same passages from Old Norse as inspiration for various parts of Tolkien's work. Having since read the Eddas and other Old Norse works by themselves, I can see that the nuggets that are always quoted are just that, nuggets torn from the matrix of whole poems in which they are utterly incidental. The Eddas are not treasure troves of Tolkienian references; they are their own thing.
Once upon a time, to be considered educated, one had to have read certain things; even, to have read them in their original languages. But as time has ground on, it has been usual to get canned summaries presented by prominent writers, presented by faculty, etc. We learn what Socrates said about X, but we rarely read the Dialogue in which he said it. We learn what Irenaeus or the Didache say about Y (especially if it supports our canned theology), but we rarely read the actual ancient works in full. The Great Books Series attempted to offer a correction, which was adopted by the University of Chicago as the basis of its general education requirements, but more people probably own a set of something like the Great Books than have actually read them.
This is not to denigrate anyone's understanding of one's professional field or even one's hobby. We all know what we know, and have acquired it from all kinds of sources, including what our grandparents told us. I'm not bragging because I've read Z (whether or not in the original language). I'm just saying that there are a lot of things we should have read. We don't even have to read them all in the time we're cramming in our basic education. We've got our whole lives in which to read and enjoy all kinds of things. And I continue to read and enjoy many things, still learning and growing even at my age and level of decrepitude.