Good morning Spendius. I hope you are well and joyful.
I did like that, "dark queen of the Manhattan night..." phrase. I detect some Romanism in that rather penetrating and clear description of the Catholic & Jesuitical essence (or is it merely High Church and academic association with the institution that produced John Henry Newman?).
I'll confess that the reading of philosophical analysis irritates me, perhaps because I don't understand it. I was a whiz at mathematics and physics in university, but struggled to pass chemistry, and didn't like it, probably for the same reason. Possibly the underlying reason is an inability to lift myself out of, or above, certain fundamental beliefs, even for a moment.
Do you know that William Bullitt, the Amerrican diplomat (he was an advisor to Wilson during the negotiations at Versailles in 1919, and a prominent figure in State department and American academic circles after that) and Sigmund Freud co-authored and published in book form a lengthy psychological study of Woodrow Wilson. They said he was dominated by some rather odd infantile perversions. Freud had never met Wilson, but Billitt knew him well. What I find most remarkable is that they wrote it at all.
GB1:-
Bullitt,W.C.Four mentions in the index of Jones.I'll look it through when I get back from polishing my nose on the buckled grindstone.It amazes me too.
From what you say it is probably the theory about the nanny/wet nurse in Frieberg.We musn't underestimate the guy though.
See you later hopefully.
I'm always joyful when free of physical pain.Toothache really pisses me off.
GB1:-
I have looked it up.Bullitt was your ambassador in Berlin.He was a personal friend of Roosevelt and used his pull to persuade the Nazis to let Freud go to England with his gold money,the paper money being useful only for firelighters.It might be surmised that Bullitt saved Freud's life and those of his family.He accompanied Freud part of the way to England.Jones mentions the book they wrote together saying that Freud did the psychology and Bullitt the politics.Bullitt sounds like an all round good bloke.
He (Bullitt)was an interesting person, and he played a role for Wilson in the Versailles negotiations somewhat like that of Keynes' for Lloyd George. He ended up quite openly contemptuous of Wilson. Your insights about how he and Freud came together have the ring of truth.
Both principals were disasters, but for different reasons. George was a capable but unwise, politician functioning beyond his depth at a critical time in history. Wilson was the fool of the era who promised much - and excited hopes that could not be fulfilled - but delivered little. he was flummoxed from the start of our parrticipation in the war by both the british and the French. (We put 800,000 troops in Europe, and they promptly put 500,000 in the Mideast in their effort to grab the fruits of the ottoman Empire). Worse he had no concept of how to put his lofty and much touted words into action and little patience for the effort.
GB1:-
I'm not one for criticising those guys.It was a complex situation and I imagine they were all pretty much exhausted.
Did our grab at the dying empire of the Ottomans get the oil industry off the ground or did Jed Clampett(?) do it.
I'm sure they all did their best under all the circumstances.
Perhaps they did as much as they could, but their actions during and after WWI wrote the script for the rest of the awful 20th bcentury.
I suspect the Ottomans would have developed the oil on their own even without our help. Products tend to find demanding markets.
We are still dealing with the aftereffects of the fall of the Ottoman Empire.
George:-
We're still dealing with the fall full stop.Why won't they stop fornicating when they know how much trouble it causes.Have a peep at that "mouth shut" thread.Poor little mite.If it could hear its mum and dad it would probably volunteer.
Perhaps they would - perhaps not. Old Ed Fitzgerald said it well.
Into this Universe, and why not knowing,
Nor whence, like Water willy-nilly flowing:
And out of it, as Wind along the Waste,
I know not whither, willy-nilly blowing.
For in and out, above, about, below,
'Tis nothing but a Magic Shadow-show,
Play'd in a Box whose Candle is the Sun,
Round which we Phantom Figures come and go.
'Tis all a Chequer-board of Nights and Days
Where Destiny with Men for Pieces plays:
Hither and thither moves, and mates, and slays,
And one by one back in the Closet lays.
Ah, Love! could thou and I with Fate conspire
To grasp this sorry Scheme of Things entire,
Would not we shatter it to bits--and then
Re-mould it nearer to the Heart's Desire!
George:-
Great stuff.Knew it as a kid.It's perfect.
What do you think of this as a distilled essence of the Jesuitical position?
"In the vast scheme of things with which he (Bloom)identifies himself the adultery of his wife becomes an unimportant event."
And by extension everything else.
It is from Frank Budgen's James Joyce and the Making of Ulysses.
It continues-
He considers the nature and desires of the human body and its functional necessities and mechanisms
"...the futility of triumph or protest or vindication:the inanity of extolled virtue:the lethargy of nescient matter:the apathy of the stars."
It is in the unsmiled smile of his equanimity that the bowstring of the lord of 7 Eccles Street most loudly twangs.
The bit in speechmarks is Joyce.Rest Budgen.
It's gone very quiet hasn't it?
I'm currently engaged in trying to read Finnegans
Wake.Again.I'm improving.Care to join in?
I believe your critic's piece did indeed capture part of the essence of the Jesuitical teaching.
The logical structure began with a contemplation of the power of Aquinas' Uncaused Cause proof, in relation to the origins of the universe and ourselves -- one is confronted with an essentially unsatisfying endless regression of cause and effect, or alternatively a recognition of the hand of the creator. From this emerges the recognition that, of all the blind leaps available, the greatest and least plausible is to atheism.
In learning how to live and think one regards observable natural law - a discernable manifestation of the hand of the creator.
Then with due regard for the message of the Testament one can understand the nature and gradations of virtue, and of sin.
Excesses in the expression of natural appetites are just that. While sinful, they are trivial compared to the development and expressions of appetites contrary to the laws of nature - the emphasis here not so much on the sexual as on things like intolerance, greed, and deliberate cruelty.
In that school Molly's adultery was indeed inconsequential.
I once did the rounds in Dublin with a cousin on Bloom's day. It was fifteen years ago and Dublin still had the quality of rundown seediness that was once its chief characteristic, but which has faded with the youthful prosperity.
I'll confess to never having attempted Finnegan's Wake. I read the Dubliners & Portrait of the Artist long ago and felt I understood them well, but didn't like the perspective of the writer. I enjoyed Ulysses much more. I would be glad to be guided in the mysteries of Finnegan ( by the title was a takeoff on an old barroom song of the same name).
George:-
I was rather hoping you would guide me.I hold Joyce in very high esteem.He grew me up.
I think the key to FW is hard work and patience but that's the key to everything worthwhile isn't it.Do you think Dylan is influenced by JJ.There are a lot of concordances.Reading about Dylan's years in Minneapolis it is hard to imagine he hadn't been told about this wordsmith.And one page of Joyce must have hooked him.
I'll look around for the song.
I'm willing to jointly tackle the Finnegan challenge - on a basis of equal ignorance.
Interestingly, I was growed up on Dostoievsky - I found an old Constance Garnet translation of Crime and Punishment on a bookshelf in the house when I was 14 or 15, and - I was hooked. I had finished Brothers Karamazov before I learned about Hiawatha. Meanwhile we were reading the odd Dubliners storys from Joyce in school.
Couldn't open the link - not a Times Suscriber. Bob Dylan? I was living in Monterey California in 1967, and witnessed his emergence on the folk/rock divide (along with the Jefferson Airplane) first hand. All things considered, I liked the earlier stuff better.
George:-
I'm not a subscriber either.I just click on and up it comes.Give it another go.It has worked for me with Lola's links.(No pun intended).
Last night I read something Joyce said about Dostoievsky.I'll look back for it.
There's a neat piece of FW been put on the Dylan thread.Easy starter.
George:-
I found that quick.Budgen is talking here-
I asked him (Joyce) if he did not think Dostoevsky (sic) a supremely great writer.
"No," said Joyce,bluntly."Rousseau,confessing to stealing silver spoons he had really stolen,is much more interesting than one of Dostoevsky's people confessing to an unreal murder." (Page 184 ibidem)
Also on p191 the following-
Joyce rarely talked of perversity or crime.One saw in him none of that natural awareness of sexual perversity characteristic of Proust,none of Dostoevsky's preoccupation with the nightmare of crime.Both these aspects of life he saw from without,and in the main they were to him comic.
I had never thought Proust particularly perverted.I found him a joy all through 3 summer months.I did have a go at your man once but it was a little scary so I let it go.Is it scary?I like prankquean students.
George:-
Today has gone.
I wonder where Lola is.
I had to work today. I'm behind on an article I'm writing with a June deadline. And I actually made money today. Yay!! I'll be able to pay the rent. Then this evening, I had to go to a meeting and I have another on Wednesday night at which I am presenting a case for discussion.
But I have a post in mind about Freud, Bullitt/Wilson. But that will have to wait for tomorrow. It's off to bed with me now.
Lola:-
Frank Harris spoke loads of languages fluently and he finished up advising us lads to not bother with any but our own.He reckoned it damaged one's appreciation of your native language.And what Frank said is good enough for me.
Hence I am flummoxed.
The last bit means "goodbye" doesn't it.
It does mean good-by but it also means, until we meet again.
Do you know the author, Mr. Spendius, lover of questions?
