Author Archives: memoirandremains

Philip Rieff, The Triumph of the Therapeutic, 4.1

09 Thursday Jul 2020

Posted by in Freud, Thomas Manton

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , ,

Chapter 4: In Defense of the Analytic Attitude

This chapter concerns Freud’s defense of his analysis. To understand this, Rieff notes two distinct understanding of the “theory of theory”.  First, there was the understanding of theory bringing the human into conformity with reality: “They being what we know them to be, the intellectual and emotional task of life is to make our actions confirm to the right order, so that we too can be right.”  The model is the true paradigm. 

There is a natural inherent order which we seek to understand and then order life. The underlying order the “model” (as Rieff) calls it is the point. There is a final end, and that end is God. 

But there is another understanding of theory which sets out to destroy gods. This sort of theory “arms us with the weapons for transforming reality instead of forcing us to conform to it.” (73) There is no purpose, no final cause. Theory is merely a way of navigating an otherwise incomprehensible universe and mitigating the pain of life. “A good theory becomes the creator of power.” (Ibid.)

It is such a power creating, reality bending theory that produces Freud and Marx. 

At this point, Rieff distinguishes Adler and Jung from Freud. Freud sought merely to set forth a theory which would give on the power to choose to live any sort of life.  He would not “cure” anyone: cure was a “religious category.”  (74) “He merely wanted to give men more options than their raw experience of life permitted them.” (74)

Freud’s mechanism leaves one nowhere: you finally kill off the old gods but there is nothing with which to replace it. Rieff notes that Adler and Jung sought to construct a basis for establishing a new cure on the other-side of analysis despite their attempts. 

The end point was the Genesis 3 promise of the Serpent, “You shall be as gods knowing good and evil.” “Freud risked the correlative implication: that healthy men need no gods.” (76)

This second form of theory and its Freudian aim of a man who no longer needs the consolation of religion or the search of a pre-existing meaning and order in nature leaves man as a carver of his good.

Freud’s concept of a world freed of gods leaves every person the one who decides his own good, which has profound implications for law. In a series of cases, the courts have found this power to create one’s own “meaning” as the basis for constitutional rights: 

The Casey decision again confirmed that our laws and tradition afford constitutional protection to personal decisions relating to marriage, procreation, contraception, family relationships, child rearing, and education. Id., at 851. In explaining the respect the Constitution demands for the autonomy of the person in making these choices, we stated as follows: 

[“These matters, involving the most intimate and personal choices a person may make in a lifetime, choices central to personal dignity and autonomy, are central to the liberty protected by the Fourteenth Amendment.] [At the heart of liberty is the right to define one’s own concept of existence, of meaning, of the universe, and of the mystery of human life.] Beliefs about these matters could not define the attributes of personhood were they formed under compulsion of the State.” Ibid.

Lawrence v. Texas, 539 U.S. 558, 573-74 (2003). In the dissent of Lawrence, Justice Scalia wrote:

And if the Court is referring not to the holding of Casey, but to the dictum of its famed sweet-mystery-of-life passage, ante, at 13 (“`At the heart of liberty is the right to define one’s own concept of existence, of meaning, of the universe, and of the mystery of human life'”): That “casts some doubt” upon either the totality of our jurisprudence or else (presumably the right answer) nothing at all. I have never heard of a law that attempted to restrict one’s “right to define” certain concepts; and if the passage calls into question the government’s power to regulate actions based on one’s self-defined “concept of existence, etc.,” it is the passage that ate the rule of law. 

Lawrence v. Texas, 539 U.S. 558, 588 (2003). Scalia’s point is that all law defines some sort of public character: it is a “theory” in the first sense referenced above. But in a series of decisions involving human sexuality and procreation, the courts have adopted a Freudian theory of law, in which freedom from the “gods” of any culture can be set aside. 

But such self-carving of happiness does remain a personal decision – however personally the decision is made:

Incorporating the “mystery of life” logic into these spheres deludes individuals into thinking that personal failures in socially important roles only have personal consequences. Society thus lacks the authority to explain how the personal choice of one hurts the wellbeing of others.

In other words, society cannot say whether marriage ensures that children have the benefit of a mother and a father—marriage is whatever a person wants it to be. Society cannot say whether a child suffers from no-fault divorce—divorce is a personal choice. Society cannot say whether a child is raised by parents in a relationship that society needs to survive—relationships are personal.

Should the detriments of a child’s upbringing become a social harm when he takes society’s reins as an adult, that new adult now also lacks the right moral framework to refine social standards for the benefit of his children.  Life’s “mystery” about what crafts and constitutes good conduct thus endures—even when harmful consequences counsel society to encourage some choices over others from reason and experience.

William Haun, “The “mystery of Life” Makes Law a Mystery,” The Public Discourse (July 26, 2013), https://www.thepublicdiscourse.com/2013/07/10091/.  The justification for Freud’s freeing men from deformed gods is that the culture simply no longer functions nor does it provide the ability to define character and human good. These commitment therapies are simply outdated. 

Now perhaps when an occasional person behaves along their on lines there is little communal effect. Indeed, even the most prolific murderer or robber will have only limited effect upon a society of any size. But when there is no communal standards for even the most basic means of living, then the results will profoundly damaging. Freud’s theory made constitutional right will not end well when extended to all. 

As Justice Scalia noted, the doctrine applied consistently means there can be no order, which is precisely the duty of law and culture. But, as Freud contends, there is no order to be had. 

I know that an utterly chaotic society would have been a horror to Freud. I have read nowhere that he was a anarchist. But the results of his analytic theory aim in only one direction. Indeed, he felt that Adler and Jung were wrong to try find a new basis for order. 

On the other side is the first understanding of theory, that human happiness and well-being are defined not by ourselves but by God:

Men would be happy with that kind of happiness which is true happiness, but not in the way which God propoundeth, being prepossessed with carnal fancies. It is counted a foolish thing to wait upon God in the midst of straits, conflicts, and temptations: 1 Cor. 2:14, ‘The natural man receiveth not the things of the Spirit of God, for they are foolishness unto him; neither can he know them, because they are spiritually discerned.’ More prejudices lie against the means than the end; therefore, out of despair, they sit down with a carnal choice, as persons disappointed in a match take the next offer. Since they cannot have God’s happiness, they resolve to be their own carvers, and to make themselves as happy as they can in the enjoyment of present things

Thomas Manton, The Complete Works of Thomas Manton, vol. 6 (London: James Nisbet & Co., 1872), 7.

Philip Rieff, The Triumph of the Therapeutic, 3.2

07 Tuesday Jul 2020

Posted by in Freud

≈ Leave a comment

Rieff explains the process in this manner.  The entire culture functions as a superego, replete with symbolic expression and procedures for bringing the individual into conformity with the community purpose.  The individual is thus brought to health by conforming the individual to the community superego. 

The person who brings the individual into conformity with the community superego was the earlier therapist. In this role, particularly if the earlier “therapist” utilized any sacral symbolism, functioned as a “priest.”

To bring the individual into conformity to the community superego brought about a “transformation” of the individual and formed a “positive community. 

Rieff also proposes an interesting role for the estatic or ascetic religionist. Such a person by means of an extreme religious action which disestablishes prior bonds and re-establishes the individual into a new positive community, a new set of symbols. 

In contrast to a positive community where the therapist brings about a “transformation” the analytic therapist, as developed by Freud creates no positive community and engages in no commitment therapy. 

Freud’s therapy was precisely for the purpose of removing the “analysand” from any positive community. The therapist had no end of bringing the individual into conformity to a communal superego: quite the opposite. The individual was taught to understand the superego. The therapist does not propose any new community, he rather acts to free the analysand. 

When the analysand comes to the therapist, he is “buried alive  … in the culture.” (64) The previous sacral system is no longer a means of healing, but “sickness.” Freud offers not salvation, merely I suppose – although the this word is not used by Rieff – reality:

To be thus freed from a tyrannical cultural super-ego is to be properly bedded in the present world.

This does not mean those who followed in Freud’s footsteps were content to leave the individual freed from all external superego. Such persons are considered by Rieff later in the book. 

At this point, Rieff merely posits that analysis is a means of psychologically detaching oneself from broken symbols which are symptoms of an earlier, no longer functioning community: “The analytic therapy developed precisely in response to the need of the Western individual … for a therapy that would not depend for its effect on a symbolic return to a positive community.” (61)

Philip Rieff, The Triumph of the Therapeutic, 3.1 (Community and Therapy)

07 Tuesday Jul 2020

Posted by in Freud, Psychology

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , ,

The prior post on Triumph of the Therapeutic may be found here.

Community and Therapy, Chapter 3

In this chapter, Rieff begins with an understanding of mental health as provided by means of a symbolic system. By means of a symbolic system, the society creates a matrix in which the individual person can achieve a character ideal. To be a functioning person, the person must belong to a “positive community” which “offers some sort of salvation to the individual through participant membership.” (60)

In this scenario, the system works if the individual functions reasonably well. The system will need a sufficiently robust symbolic format and mechanism for involvement in that system. 

For the individual to function well, the individual not may but must participate in the communal life: it was only the life of the community that the life of any individual would be sufficiently well served.

Rieff then subsumes the history religion and culture into a concept of therapy:

Ultimately, it is the community that cures. The function of the classical therapist is to commit the patient to the symbol system of the community, as best he can and by whatever techniques are sanctioned. (57)

Rousseau provided a seeming break from this concept by introducing the idea that the individual must break free from the confinements of the community. But in the end, Rousseau ended up in the same place, because he merely posited the creation of a new community in the future.  

Marx took Rousseau a step further and argued that the community was utterly broken and that all that currently existed is cash interactions. But Marx was still looking for a community, just a new future community where the individual could finally be integrated into the communal whole.

From a slightly different perspective, De Tocqueville considered the possibility of a wholly democratic society where all communal bounds would be broken down and all life would be private.

But for all that, Rieff contends that prior to Freud, mental health was a matter sociology: it was obtained by means of integrating the individual to the society’s system to simultaneously define and give room for expression of the individual. 

At this point, Rieff places Freud as the one who provides a therapy to the individual when no positive community exists. 

Thomas Campion: When to Her Lute Corinna Sings

30 Tuesday Jun 2020

Posted by in Literature

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , ,

This little song by Thomas Campion (1567-1620) speaks of the beauty of Corinna’s voice as she sings. The poem works in two stanzas with a quick development of a seemingly simple idea. And yet this simple idea in its perfectly balanced symmetry of concept and structure is deceptive. 

When to her lute Corinna sings

Her voice revives the leaden strings, 

And doth in highest notes appear

As any challenged echo clear;

But when she doth of mourning speak

Ev’n with her signs the strings do break. 

And as her lute doth live or die,

Led by her passion, so must I:

For when of pleasure she doth sing,

My thoughts enjoy a sudden spring,

But if she doth of sorrow speak,

Ev’n from my heart the strings do break.

In the first stanza, the lute which accompanies her voice is made better and is commanded by the beauty of her song. The strings are “lead” until they are revived by her voice. The word “revived” is interesting, because it is to live again – not to live at all. But it seems the idea is that the lute is silent until Corinna starts to sing. 

Accompanied by her lute, Corinna sings “to her lute”.  The singer and the lute form a closed circle. The strings come to life (as presumably did last time only to die when she stopped singing last); and the strings become filled with sorrow, when her voice becomes filled with sorrow. 

This reminds of Orpheus, whose song could make rocks and trees dance. As Shakespeare’s short poem reads:

ORPHEUS 

Orpheus with his lute made trees

And the mountain tops that freeze

    Bow themselves when he did sing:

To his music plants and flowers

Ever sprung; as sun and showers

    There had made a lasting spring.

Every thing that heard him play,

Even the billows of the sea,

    Hung their heads and then lay by.

In sweet music is such art,

    Killing care and grief of heart

    Fall asleep, or hearing, die.

That remarkable power of song then works not merely upon the inanimate lute, but upon the poet.  The poet enters this closed circle: What happens between Corinna and the lute now brings him into its charm: 

And as her lute doth live or die,

Led by her passion, so must I:

The passions in Corinna’s voice bring along the poet. The lute which perhaps changes insensibly changes the sensible poet. The passions of her voice are so profound that he no longer has say over himself:

So must I. 

It is involuntary. 

The circle is then completely closed: the poet is subsumed back into the image of the lute. Note the progression here from “thoughts” (which belong to the man), to “strings” which belong to the lute:

For when of pleasure she doth sing,

My thoughts enjoy a sudden spring,

But if she doth of sorrow speak,

Ev’n from my heart the strings do break.

His very heart has become the lute. This ability to bring the conceit (the controlling thought) from lute to poet to lute is an aspect which raises Campion from the great mass of versifiers. 

There is then one final twist to the poem: the poem itself is an artifact. Corinna is gone. I have no idea who she is. Her voice was there in a moment and has disappeared forever. But this poem remains being as the echo of her voice

And doth in highest notes appear

As any challenged echo clear;

The reader who follows along with Campion can, by the work of imagination, enter into this circle of Corinna and her lute by means of the poem. Corinna’s voice does charm by means of this echo and we enter into this singular moment by means of the poem from 400 years ago. 

And in that the moment is no loner singular, but is transported across time and space. Such things may not “mean” anything to the great powers of countries and armies and economies and science. But there is a beauty here in art which should make the mighty blush. The politics of James (King of England) cannot affect now like Corinna’s song has by means of Campion’s poem.

One final note: I have always found it striking that the Bible routinely portrays heaven as filled with music.

The soprano Jennifer O’Loughlin:

Another thought on Taylor and Tennyson

26 Friday Jun 2020

Posted by in Psalms, Uncategorized

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

,

The great difference between the two poems lies in the way the poet perceives himself on coming to God. Taylor sees himself as wretched and weak; Tennyson, while giving some acknowledgement of sinfulness, comes as a “saint”.

Psalm 6 is also a poem of coming to God, which begins:

Psalm 6:1–3 (AV)

1 O LORD, rebuke me not in thine anger, neither chasten me in thy hot displeasure. 2 Have mercy upon me, O LORD; for I am weak: O LORD, heal me; for my bones are vexed. 3 My soul is also sore vexed: but thou, O LORD, how long?

Charles Spurgeon, in The Treasury of David, writes:

“Have mercy upon me, O Lord; for I am weak.” Though I deserve destruction, yet let thy mercy pity my frailty. This is the right way to plead with God if we would prevail. Urge not your goodness or your greatness, but plead your sin and your littleness. Cry, “I am weak,” therefore O Lord, give me strength and crush me not. Send not forth the fury of thy tempest against so weak a vessel. Temper the wind to the shorn lamb. Be tender and pitiful to a poor withering flower, and break it not from, its stem. Surely this is the plea that a sick man would urge to move the pity of his fellow if he were striving with him, “Deal gently with me, ‘for I am weak.’ ” A sense of sin had so spoiled the Psalmist’s pride, so taken away his vaunted strength, that he found himself weak to obey the law, weak through the sorrow that was in him, too weak, perhaps, to lay hold on the promise. “I am weak.” The original may be read, “I am one who droops,” or withered like a blighted plant. Ah! beloved, we know what this means, for we, too, have seen our glory stained, and our beauty like a faded flower.

And so, while not the only thing to say on the topic, Edward Taylor has come in the vein of the one who was weak.

A Comparison of Tennyson and Edward Taylor

26 Friday Jun 2020

Posted by in Edward Taylor, Tennyson

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

, , , , , ,

(This lovely picture is entitled “Alaska Moonlight” by JLS Photography.)

St. Agnes’ Eve by Tennyson forms an interesting counterpart to the Taylor’s Was There a Palace of Pure Gold (Meditation 24).  Both poems are driven by the desire to be with God.  

Both concern a present a present desire to be with God and the need to be fit for such a translation. But despite the similar concern the effect and content of both poems is remarkably different. 

The First Stanza:

Deep on the convent-roof the snows 

Are sparkling to the moon: 

My breath to heaven like vapour goes; 

May my soul follow soon! 

The shadows of the convent-towers 

Slant down the snowy sward, 

Still creeping with the creeping hours 

That lead me to my Lord: 

Make Thou my spirit pure and clear 

As are the frosty skies, 

Or this first snowdrop of the year 

That in my bosom lies. 

Summary: The poet is perhaps a nun of some sort “the convent-roof”; or at least a deeply religious person. One a cold night, while looking over the moonlight snow, the poet’s breath fogs and lifts toward heaven. That leads to a thought of the poet’s soul likewise ascending:

My breath to heaven like vapour goes; 

May my soul follow soon! 

In this desire to be with God, the present time consists of “shadow” and “creeping hours”.  Thus, the prayer that the poet’s spirit may ascend. Like Taylor the poet prays that the soul be purified, “Make thou my spirit pure and clear.” But unlike Taylor there is no meditation on one’s own sinfulness. In fact, the sense is different. The poet’s mediation is made a convent and the sense is a cold, chaste, unworldly desire. 

There are two other marked differences between the poets. Taylor rhythm and imagery are complex, contradictory, often jarring. But Tennyson writes great polish. 

The rhythm is meticulous held in check to draw attention precisely as the poet intends:

DEEP on the CONvent-ROOF the SNOWS 

Are SPARKling TO the MOON: 

My BREATH to HEAven like VAPour GOES; 

MAY my SOUL FOLlow SOON! 

The initial deep slows down the entire scene. The line break, the semicolon and the two accented syllables slow down the movement of the verse and throw the emphasis on the initial syllable of the prayer, “MAY”. 

The imagery is all of a picture: nothing which is not organic to the scene intrudes. A cold night, the snow, the moon, the freezing breath are all of the same event.  

Taylor by contrast would draw together images which have a certain conceptual link, even if in “nature” they would never be found together. Taylor would bring together any number of beautiful images, even if those images have no natural correspondence in the “real world.” I could image Taylor writing of moonlight and the glint of a fish’s scales and the sunshine and a white flower and a ruby, because they all flash light: eventhough sun and moon can never both shine at once.

Here is another similarity to Taylor. Tennyson’s prayer acknowledges an unfitness for heaven, robes are “soiled”, the candle is pale, earthy. Taylor would rail and bemoan his unfitness. Tennyson is more Platonic and less moral. Tennyson sees the physical body as an ontological impediment. Taylor seems the human trouble as more profound.  Both speak of new clothes, but Taylor is more desperate and disgusted. Tennyson sees the current trouble being merely the need for an invitation to ascend:

As these white robes are soil’d and dark, 

To yonder shining ground; 

As this pale taper’s earthly spark, 

To yonder argent round; 

So shows my soul before the Lamb, 

My spirit before Thee; 

So in mine earthly house I am, 

To that I hope to be. 

Break up the heavens, O Lord! and far, 

Thro’ all yon starlight keen, 

Draw me, thy bride, a glittering star, 

In raiment white and clean. 

When Tennyson comes to the doors of heaven, he will be cleared of “sin”; it will be a purging at that time and place,

For me the Heavenly Bridegroom waits, 

To make me pure of sin. 

Taylor too sees the need for the work to be on God’s side: “Oh! That my heart was made thy golden box.” And both see that they will be admitted by God’s grace. But there is one point on which they profoundly differ:

He lifts me to the golden doors; 

The flashes come and go; 

All heaven bursts her starry floors, 

And strows her lights below, 

And deepens on and up! the gates 

Roll back, and far within 

For me the Heavenly Bridegroom waits, 

To make me pure of sin. 

The sabbaths of Eternity, 

One sabbath deep and wide— 

A light upon the shining sea— 

The Bridegroom with his bride! 

In Tennyson’s poem, the one who is praying has no conflict in the passions. The desire to be God is perfect and consistent: just like the flow of the poem’s language. All of is a consistent piece. The poet desires to be God. The poet trusts that God will work and raise the poet up. 

Taylor too has faith in God’s work and a desire to be God. But in Taylor there is a profound sense of the conflict and inconsistency of religious desire.  

Tennyson’s prayer contains no conflicting emotion.  The covenant towers which reach up toward heaven cast moon-shadows upon the earth. Time on earth creeps. The breath and soul ascend to God by their own nature movement. 

Taylor objectively sees how much better it is to be with God. But then he sees the conflicting desires of his heart which also seeks the earth. Taylor confesses to a desire contrary to God. Taylor is in love with the earth. The breath ascends upward from the convent. But Taylor would also be thinking of the warm bed which waits within, and of the good meal waiting in the morning.

Tennyson’s poem is the prayer of a “saint” who experiences no contrary desire. It is far more beautiful than Taylor’s conflicted mess. Tennyson’s saint would never call herself, “More blockish than a block.” She is a saint, after all. 

But that I thinks makes Taylor’s poem more honest. Tennyson’s saint has achieved a sort of earthly perfection. While Taylor’s penitent is horrified at his conflicted hearts which desires those things which are at odds with his own happiness. As John writes, “If we say we have no sin, we deceive ourselves and the truth is not in us.”

Tennyson’s saint admits to some lurking imperfect, but the poem does not express that terrified sense of sin which makes up Taylor’s meditations.

Edward Taylor, Was there a palace of pure gold.3

24 Wednesday Jun 2020

Posted by in Edward Taylor, Worship, Worship

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , ,

Having fully set out the problem, Taylor prays for a resolution. If he is not adequate by nature, then he seeks to be made adequate by grace. That is, it is not a work of Taylor’s effort, but a work of God, “this worthy work of thine.”

The prayer is threefold: first that his heart be made a sacred vessel (thy golden box); second, filled with the correction disposition (love divine); third, offered up to God.

Oh! That my heart was made thy golden box

Full of affections and of love divine

Knit all in tassels, and the true-love knots,

To garnish o’re this worthy work of thine.

This box and all therein more rich than gold

In sacred flames I to thee offer would.

The image of gold is used for those things most proper to God.  In the previous stanza the poet notes that he had tied “knots” – had decorated the “earth’s toys” lovingly with flowers; but in this stanza, the God-given new heart would decorate the be a “golden box” impossibly knit together from tassels and flower (knots). 

The box would contain “affections” and “love divine”. 

The golden box so decorated would be more wonderful than a mere gold box. 

And last, the box would then be offered up as a sacrifice to God. He would spend this box “in sacred flames.”

The concept of sacrifice here may sound odd, because a fiery sacrifice would be the destruction of the golden box. While Taylor is perfectly willing to mix metaphors (a golden box made of flowers), the concept here is more likely the concept of a “living sacrifice”:

Romans 12:1 (AV) 

1 I beseech you therefore, brethren, by the mercies of God, that ye present your bodies a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable unto God, which is your reasonable service. 

If he so reworked and remade, then he will be fit for that heavenly pleasure he desires:

With thy rich tissue my poor soul array:

And lead me to thy Father’s House above.

Thy graces’ storehouse make my soul I pray.

Thy praise shall then wear tassels of my love.

If thou conduct me in thy Father’s Ways,

I’ll the golden trumpet of thy praise. 

The word “tissue” does not here mean an insubstantial paper. The older meaning was a cloth interwoven with gold or silver: the clothing of royalty. And so dress me like a prince and lead to the Father’s House. 

Father’s House comes the Lord’s words in the Upper Room:

John 14:1–2 (AV) 

1 Let not your heart be troubled: ye believe in God, believe also in me. 2 In my Father’s house are many mansions: if it were not so, I would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you. 

By the way, “mansion” does not mean separate enormous houses: the Greek here speaks of a place to live, a dwelling place. 

The prayer to be led, is a common prayer in the Psalms; which undoubtably was behind Taylor’s prayer in the poem. For instance:

Psalm 43:3 (AV) 

3 O send out thy light and thy truth: let them lead me; 

let them bring me unto thy holy hill, and to thy tabernacles. 

He prays not merely to be led, but rather for the entire renovation of the soul to be a storehouse filled with grace. The idea of grace is free work of God in him: it is the good which God does and gives. 

Then finally being filled with God’s grace and no longer a “leaden mind”, a “blockhead”, he will burst forth in praise. In fact, the praise will be “tassels” a decoration of his love: thus bringing the image of a decorated heart again into view.

This time, if God will bring Taylor to that “Palace of Pure Gold” he will no longer be dumb but will now offer praise. 

Thomas Hardy On a Fine Morning

19 Friday Jun 2020

Posted by in Thomas Hardy

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , ,

How can one have comfort in an impersonal accidental universe? This was a great problem for Hardy. The world will simply calmly destroy us.

So he asks the question where can I find solace?

It can’t be from our actual experience:

Whence comes Solace?—Not from seeing
What is doing, suffering, being,
Not from noting Life’s conditions,
Nor from heeding Time’s monitions;
But in cleaving to the Dream,
And in gazing at the gleam
Whereby gray things golden seem.

There is just an accident a surprise which permits him to see grey appear to be gold. Even shadows are turning to sun.


Thus do I this heyday, holding
Shadows but as lights unfolding,
As no specious show this moment
With its irised embowment;
But as nothing other than
Part of a benignant plan;
Proof that earth was made for man.

That last line is the key: I am somehow meaningful. The earth is meant for human life.

This is the point where Hardy differs from Lewis. That surprise of joy led Hardy to have a moments accident – a dream. For Lewis the surprise of joy requires an explanation: it can’t be grounded in life experience which is suffering. Where then?

Misery requires no explanation of life is a bare cosmic accident: why should the ends meet? Darwin only requires existence not the good true or beautiful: those have no anchor in a world of chance. Beauty is purposeful, ordered.

Hardy can’t give a better explanation for his morning than “dream.”

Edward Taylor, Was there a palace of gold.2

18 Thursday Jun 2020

Posted by in Edward Taylor

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , , ,

What could possibly motivate God to show grace? And if God were inclined in general to do good, why would he do good to such a one as the poet? This is a central mystery in Christianity as Paul write in Romans 5:8, “But God commendeth his love toward us, in that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.”  

Christ does not die so that we will be loved. Rather, God loves us first. The cross is provided because God loves us – not so that God will love us. 

This leads to the paradox which Taylor considers: If God does me so much good, why do I return so little?  Love naturally begets love; but the love which Taylor shows to God is nothing compared to the love which God has shown him.

What aim’st at, Lord? That I should be so Cross.

My mind is leaden in thy golden shine.

Though all o’re Spirit, when this dirty dross 

Doth touch it with its smutting leaden line.

What shall an eagle t’catch a fly thus run?

Or Angel dive after a mote int’sun?

What is the intention of God, when Taylor is 

Lead; where God is gold

Dross, filth; where God is Spirit.

What motivation could there be? Why would an eagle waste its time to capture a fly; or an angel chase a speck of dust.

How then can Taylor remedy the trouble? He will take “vengeance” upon himself for his improper response to God’s love. 

And yet, all he can muster is a mismatch: I should have actual tears in my eyes for my wretchedness, but all I can offer is the idea: these words, this poem:

What folly’s this? I fain would take, I think,

Vengeance upon myself: But I confess,

I can’t. Mine eyes, Lord, shed no tears but ink.

My handy works, are words and wordiness.

Earth’s toys wear knots of my affections, nay,

Though from thy glorious self, they stole away.

The trouble is in Taylor’s affections. Affections are deeper word than an emotion; it is the emotion with the matching desire. To love or hate are both affections; but rather than a brief feeling, the affection deeper, more settled. 

Taylor knows that he should love. Then not loving well, he should have sorrow for his sinful lack of love. But he cannot even manage that sorrow. The trouble is his heart is set too fully upon “toys”. 

A “knot” is a bouquet of flowers. The image is the various “toys” being dressed with loving affection.

To understand Taylor, you must understand how Taylor thought:

Love not the world, neither the things that are in the world. If any many love the world, the love of the Father is not in him. For all that is in the world, the lust of the flesh, and the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life, is not of the Father, but is of the world.

1 John 2:15-16. This does mean a hatred of human beings: there is a command to love human beings. This does not mean destruction of the world. The world is given as a stewardship: it belongs to God, but cared for by us. In John, the “word” means the system of being in rebellion against God. 

You must think of the world like the Witch’s House in Handsel and Gretel: it is made of candy, but it is a trap. Having fully set out the problem, Taylor must 

Edward Taylor, Was there a palace of gold.

16 Tuesday Jun 2020

Posted by in Edward Taylor, Literature

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, ,

The poem begins with a fantastic, impossible scene of the throne of God. The subjective, if such a place actually existed, does not deny the existence of such a place, but rather underscores the desire:

The image only in generalities tracks any biblical scene. The references to gemstones here – and in Scripture – as well as impossibly beautiful, even absurd (a cushion of sunshine, what could that even as a concrete item?) hints to the reason why such things even exist as gemstones: They are concrete items to act as metaphors to the heavenly original. They give us an inkling as to the marvel. It is sort of a reverse Platonism. Rather than the earth being a copy of the heavenly; the earth is given as a metaphor for the heavenly.

Was there a palace of gold, all ston’d 

And pav’d with pearls, whose gates rich jaspers were

And throne a carbuncle whose king enthroned 

Sat on a cushion all of sunshine clear

Whose crown a bunch of sunbeams was: I should 

Prize such as in his favor shrine me would.

A carbuncle is a ruby. 

Thus, if there were such a place, I would give anything to be there. But how could I ever gain entrance? 

There are only two possibilities: To earn it or to receive as a gift. And Taylor, being a Christian, knows that salvation is of grace; not of personal merit:

Was there a palace of gold, all ston’d 

And pav’d with pearls, whose gates rich jaspers were

And throne a carbuncle whose king enthroned 

Sat on a cushion all of sunshine clear

Whose crown a bunch of sunbeams was: I should 

Prize such as in his favor shrine me would.

The Lord of perfect purity is the one who opens (opes) the entrance. Standing behind this scene is the concept of Psalm 24:

Psalm 24 (ESV) 

A Psalm of David. 

1    The earth is the Lord’s and the fullness thereof, 

the world and those who dwell therein, 

2    for he has founded it upon the seas 

and established it upon the rivers. 

3    Who shall ascend the hill of the Lord? 

And who shall stand in his holy place? 

4    He who has clean hands and a pure heart, 

who does not lift up his soul to what is false 

and does not swear deceitfully. 

5    He will receive blessing from the Lord

and righteousness from the God of his salvation. 

6    Such is the generation of those who seek him,

who seek the face of the God of Jacob. Selah

7    Lift up your heads, O gates! 

And be lifted up, O ancient doors, 

that the King of glory may come in. 

8    Who is this King of glory? 

The Lord, strong and mighty, 

the Lord, mighty in battle! 

9    Lift up your heads, O gates! 

And lift them up, O ancient doors, 

that the King of glory may come in. 

10    Who is this King of glory? 

The Lord of hosts, 

he is the King of glory! Selah

Who may enter into this holy place? Only one who is perfect. Who is such a one? The King of Glory. And who is the King of Glory? Jesus Christ. The psalm is commonly taken as a reference to the Ascension of Christ into glory. 

The poet is thus being offered entrance into this impossible, heavenly scene. 

And important point of contrast which will be developed in this poem is the matter of words. Here note that the words of the king upon his throne are embellished with more radiance than sunshine. 

And so we come to the contrast which marks Taylor’s mediations: The Lord is all of glory, but I am not. 

This is a point which is under considered when academics discuss “Calvinists”. Election does not give rise to a thought of superiority but rather of confusion, How am I here? It is not merit, but impossibility. And the stark understanding of human nature is not a matter of despair, but rather of hope for remaking the world. 

Thy milk white hand, my glorious Lord, doth this:

It opes this gate and me conducts into 

This golden palace whose rich pavement is

Of precious pearls; and to this King also. 

Thus, thron’d and crown’d: whose words ‘bellish’d all

With brighter beams, than e’re the sun let fall.

There two marvelously awkward line breaks here. The first line “I” following a pause hurries on to the second line, like a tumble down the stairs. Also the break from the third to fourth line works perfectly: My affections fly On toys. The short half line of two syllables followed by a remaining line of 8, puts tremendous force upon the insufficient object of affection. I love toys! 

We so often love the good things God gives things, we love the gift more than the one who has given the gift. The poet would rather have the toys than the hand. 

And this is the great fault of human beings: our affections are curved back up on ourselves as Augustine notes.