Matus: Boring, Trivial, Mundane

Irvin Leigh Matus, an extraordinary Shakespeare scholar who died recently, said this back in 1989. “Get a 9-to-5 job? No way. When you have a mind like mine, such a wonderful mind, well, to have it virtually imprisoned in the boring, trivial and mundane would be torture.”

Matus was homeless for a long time while pursuing his research. He wrote two critically acclaimed books on the Bard, but would not–perhaps could not–hold a regular job or I guess even an irregular job. I offer you his quote above both to point you to an interesting obit on him and as a writing prompt. What would a wonderful mind do in a regular job? How would a genius handle the everyday humility needed for living under God?

Stop Laughing, It's Not Funny

From our Practical News Desk: Scientists have learned chimpanzees will laugh at things they don’t find funny. Just like people who will laugh in order to share the moment, even when the moment isn’t funny, chimps will laugh in order to bond with each other and no doubt optimize their evolutionary progress in order to whip us up in the next generation–or two.

Chimp Yoga

Laugh at that, you puny man.

The remains of the week

For some reason, the immortal Andrew Klavan’s web site has been down most of the week, but I see it’s up again now. Here’s his report of his attendance at the Tea Party Patriots American Policy Summit in Phoenix.

“Now, this is very high-level intellectual material,” I told the crowd, “and I know you’re just a bunch of knuckle-dragging, Bible-thumping tea partiers who might not be able to understand its subtlties. And some of you may be asking in your simple, silly way, ‘Hey, what’s the difference between post-modernism and lying?’”

What, indeed?

A couple items from Joe Carter’s ever-interesting Thirty Three Things post at First Things blog:

Facebook Blamed In 1 in 5 Divorces in the U.S.

In the end, Facebook is a social tool. For single people, social networks can help them meet that special someone. Even for marriages, social networks can help further along a relationship. Just like with any other social medium, however, even the most innocent of intentions can turn ugly with improper use.

You don’t need to be a psychologist to realize that Facebook can accelerate the process. Stories of people whose marriages were destroyed by affairs that began on social networks abound on the Internet.

You know, I was a conscientious objector in the sexual revolution. Now I seem to be using Facebook and missing all the most… interesting stuff.

I’m beginning to think I’m kind of clueless.

Yoga Is Not As Old As You Think… Nor Very Hindu, either


The reality is that postural yoga, as we know it in the 21st century, is neither eternal nor synonymous with the Vedas or Yoga Sutras. On the contrary, modern yoga was born in the late 19th/early 20th centuries. It is a child of the Hindu Renaissance and Indian nationalism, in which Western ideas about science, evolution, eugenics, health and physical fitness played as crucial a role as the ‘mother tradition’. In the massive, multi-level hybridisation that took place during this period, the spiritual aspects of yoga and tantra were rationalised, largely along the theosophical ideas of ‘spiritual science,’ introduced to India by the US-origin, India-based Theosophical Society, and internalised by Swami Vivekananda, who led the yoga renaissance.

In turn, the physical aspects of yoga were hybridised with drills, gymnastics and body-building techniques borrowed from Sweden, Denmark, England, the United States and other Western countries. These innovations were creatively grafted on the Yoga Sutras—which has been correctly described by Agehananda Bharati, the Austria-born Hindu monk-mystic, as ‘the yoga canon for people who have accepted Brahmin theology’—to create an impression of 5,000 years worth of continuity where none really exists. The HAF’s current insistence is thus part of a false advertising campaign about yoga’s ancient Brahminical lineage.

Maybe those Christian yoga groups aren’t as dangerous as we thought…

"Deposed Crime Kings"

Over at The American Culture, where my byline can occasionally be seen, scholar Curt Evans has posted two essays on the “Golden Age” of English mystery writing, refuting the common view that a few female authors are all you need to know about the period. He has posted a two-part essay, here and here, entitled “The British Golden Age of Detection’s Deposed Crime Kings”:

All four of the Crime Queens have been in print in paperback every decade since, while most of their male Golden Age contemporaries languished after their deaths.

It makes sense, then, that the idea of four Crime Queens has solidified over the last sixty years. Even so, this notion is chronologically ahistorical. Not until the very tail end of the Golden Age, or even just after, about 1938-1941, can all four Crime Queens truly have been said to have risen to dominance in the world of British crime fiction. Even Christie and Sayers, who appeared earlier on the mystery scene, in 1920 and 1923 respectively, really only began to tower over most of their male contemporaries in the 1930s, say 1930 to 1935.

There are some good reading suggestions here, if you can find the books.

A deficit of pity

I’m not qualified to judge the legal merits of the Supreme Court’s decision in the matter of Albert Snyder vs. Westboro Baptist Church today, but that won’t stop me from expressing my moral horror at what seems to me a deeply perverse and dangerous ruling.

World Magazine reports:

Chief Justice John Roberts wrote the majority opinion, concluding that under the First Amendment, even despicable speech is protected if it concerns a public matter. “A group of parishioners standing at the very spot where Westboro stood, holding signs that said ‘God Bless America’ and ‘God Loves You,’ would not have been subjected to liability,” he wrote. “It was what Westboro said that exposed it to tort damages.” But Roberts acknowledged that the speech itself was odious: “Westboro believes America is morally flawed; many Americans might feel the same about Westboro.”

The opinion noted that the case was decided based on the specific circumstances of Matthew  Snyder’s funeral, and shouldn’t be construed as a broad ruling. Westboro protestors stood on a public sidewalk more than 1,000 feet from the funeral, complying with local laws. Albert  Snyder reportedly only saw the tops of the signs at the funeral, and didn’t see what they said until afterward, meaning he wasn’t a “captive audience,” Roberts wrote, a condition for the court to restrict speech.

As a non-lawyer, what I see here is a symptom of a larger problem in American life. There seems to be a greater concern with satisfying “jot and tittle” legal points, than with doing justice. Jesus said, “You give a tenth of your spices—mint, dill and cummin. But you have neglected the more important matters of the law—justice, mercy and faithfulness.” (Matthew 23:23)

In order for society to work, the people need to believe, a) that the laws are for their protection, and b) that the people who administer the law are morally sane.

It seems to me this decision calls both principles into question.

I could find a bright side in this decision, if I wanted to. I could say, “Well, if the detestable expressions of Westboro Baptist Church are legally protected, my own politically incorrect speech is probably pretty safe.”

But I cannot feel that way.

I will not feel that way.

In any case, the protection of an insane legal system is not be relied on.

I wrote about “zero tolerance” rules a few days ago, how authorities are more and more enforcing rules without thought or sympathy, regardless of the harm it may do.

This decision looks to me like an instance of the same thing. They upheld the letter of the statute. They missed (I would contend) its purpose entirely.

Our judicial system, to all appearances, has utterly abandoned its mandate (which I consider a divine mandate) to restrain evil. It’s possible to nurture discussion and debate about the most radical and controversial issues, while still preventing people from purposely causing children to cry.

One of my favorite moments of drama in Scripture comes from the story of David. The prophet Nathan comes to the king, to confront him over his sins of adultery and murder. He engages the king’s emotions by telling a story about a rich man who, instead of killing one of the sheep out of his own vast flocks to feed a guest, steals a poor man’s only sheep, a family pet.

David burned with anger against the man and said to Nathan, “As surely as the Lord lives, the man who did this deserves to die! He must pay for that lamb four times over, because he did such a thing and had no pity.”

Then Nathan said to David, “You are the man!” (2 Samuel 12:5-7)

The members of Westboro Baptist Church have no pity. More and more in our culture, I fear, we are at the mercy of people who have no pity.

The One From the Other, by Philip Kerr

The One From the Other

I was looking for an excuse to buy more of Philip Kerr’s Bernie Gunther books. The acquisition of a Kindle provided it. Glad I did, though The One from the Other is far from my favorite of the series.

The Bernie Gunther novels, in case you’re not familiar with them, are classic Hardboiled mysteries in the Raymond Chandler tradition, except that they’re set in Germany, beginning in the 1930s. Bernie, the hero, is a sometime policeman and sometime private detective, a decent man living a life of quiet desperation, trying to retain both his pulse and his integrity in an increasingly Kafkaesque environment. His success at the latter has been mixed, at best.

After a flashback prologue, The One From the Other opens in 1949. Bernie is attempting, with no success, to run a hotel in Dachau. After a strange encounter with an American CIA agent, he admits he’s in the wrong business and moves to Munich, to set up shop as a detective again. He moves his wife, who is institutionalized with clinical depression, to that city as well, where she soon dies.

He is hired by a beautiful woman to look for her husband, a fugitive war criminal. A Catholic, she wants to remarry and needs proof of his death. This sets Bernie on a convoluted trail that leads him to discover dead bodies, get beaten up and shot at, and lose a finger. Gradually a complex conspiracy is revealed, involving a secret organization of ex-Nazis, the CIA, and the Catholic Church.

Frankly, I thought Kerr leaned too much on plot clichés this time out. Sinister CIA and Roman Catholic conspiracies have been done to death, and have (frankly) gotten offensive. He might have tried to surprise us a little.

But all that is redeemed, for me, by the interesting character of Bernie Gunther and the remarkable hard-boiled prose, such as this:

Starnberg itself was a smallish town built in terraces at the north end of the Würmsee…. The sapphire blue water was studded with yachts that shone like diamonds in the morning sunlight. It was overlooked by the ancient castle of the dukes of Bavaria. “Scenic” hardly covered it. After only a minute of looking at Starnberg, I wanted to lift the lid and eat the strawberry crème.

As I said, not the best Bernie, but an entertaining read nevertheless. Cautions for language and adult themes.

The Saga of Bjørn

First, thanks to Ian Barrs, whose blog I linked to a few days ago, for his flattering review of The Year Of the Warrior today, at Man Of the West.

Below, behold the Saga of Bjørn. It’s well-done and funny, and even relatively authentic, considering the sort of thing it is. But the theology is WRONG, WRONG, WRONG!

Gave me a chuckle, though.

The Saga Of Biorn from The Animation Workshop on Vimeo.

Tip: Eric at Grim’s Hall.

Meadowland, by Thomas Holt

Meadowland
The Thomas Holt who wrote Meadowland is the same person as the Tom Holt whose humorous mythical books, like Who’s Afraid of Beowulf and Expecting Someone Taller, I’ve praised before in this space.
The same wit is in evidence in Meadowland, his 2005 novel about the Viking discovery of America, but all in all it’s a very different kind of book.
The narrator is John Stetathus, a eunuch and accountant in the service of the emperor of Constantinople in the year 1036. He is commanded to accompany a shipment of gold through Greece to Sicily, along with three members of the emperor’s personal army, the famous Varangian Guard, made up mostly of Norsemen. One of the guards is a large and rather dull young man called Harald Sigurdson, whom Viking buffs will immediately recognize as the future King Harald Hardrada of Norway. The other two are Kari and Eyvind, a pair of elderly Icelanders. Continue reading Meadowland, by Thomas Holt

Book Reviews, Creative Culture