Dead Wake by Erik Larson

Having previously enjoyed reading The Devil in White City by Erik Larson, (which I read because I'm a sucker for cool covers/titles) I figured I would enjoy another book by him, Dead Wake. It's about the sinking of the Lusitania. We all know how this story ends, so it doesn't seem like it would make a compelling tale. However, he does a great job sucking the reader into his account, making the passengers and crew real people. By the time the fatal torpedo is fired, one can be forgiven for hoping it misses.

Larson looks closely into the stories of Captain Turner, many of the passengers, as well as the history and background of the German submariner who fired the blow and the counterintelligence agency monitoring his movement. All around, Larson paints the tragedy as a failure on many levels, as well as a lucky shot on the part of the Germans. So many things had to come together to kill the large bulk of the passengers, that it can be rightly described as a Perfect Storm. Some give it a darker patina, with hints that the British government wanted an attack on a passenger liner to succeed, thereby drawing America into the war. 

While he provides no details of a nefarious plot, it is clear that the ship was not protected like it should have been. It was also given no notice of a submarine in the area. Plus, the weather and instrument failure caused it to zig and zag (like it would have had it known of a sub in the area), but unfortunately, it "zagged" right into the path of the sub, setting up the perfect kill shot. 

While the sinking of the Titanic a couple of years earlier meant that the boat was equipped with enough lifeboats, many were collapsable canvas boats. The torpedo caused so much immediate damage, the ship listed dramatically to one side, thereby making efforts to launch all the lifeboats on one side impossible. 

This tragedy did not immediately lead to the entry of the United States into war. But it definitely set the stage a couple of years later. Americans remembered their dead. The rejoicing of the German's at the death of so many innocents still rankled. 

While most of us are familiar with the rough outline of this story, Larson fills it out in a fascinating way. By the end of the story your heart breaks for the dead and rejoices with the survivors. Larson definitely makes the case that the sinking was not foreordained. Many events contributed to the tragedy. Some are incompetence, some are luck, and some may have darker intentions. No matter what, the tale is harrowing.

Climbing Parnassus

I put a bunch of books on my Amazon gift list that looked interesting based on their similarity to other books. For Christmas, Tim purchase a few of the books for me. One was Climbing Parnassus: A New Apologia for Greek and Latin by Tracy Lee Simmons. With a name like that and a foreword by William F. Buckley Jr., I had high hopes. Fortunately the book delivered. It really changed my thinking in some ways, which is saying a lot. Usually books simply reinforce my views. This one actually made a convincing argument to which I was previously unconvinced.

I'm beginning to learn Latin.

That's kind of big, because, seriously, who learns Latin at my age? What even is the point? Right? Well that's the power of the argument made by Simmons.

The book was written in 2000, so the ideas, while not exactly promulgated yesterday, are still current and modern concerns. He begins the introduction with an indictment of modern education. "Education, that vague and official word for what goes on in our schools, has also been a trinket on the shelves of snake oil salesmen and a plaything for social planners in America for well over a century. They too have been driven by the spirit of ceaseless innovation. And we have paid a high price. The peddlers have shrouded the higher and subtler goals of learning which former generations accepted and promoted. These bringers of the New have traded in the ancient ideal of wisdom for a spurious "adjustment" of mind, settling for fitting us with the most menial of skills needful for the world of the interchangeable part. They have decided we are less, not more, than wiser people have hoped humanity might become. We are masses to be housed and fed, not minds and souls seeking something beyond ourselves." (p. 3-4)

Quite an indictment. "Masses to be housed and fed, not minds and souls seeking something beyond ourselves." Whoa. I have often said, that to the Left, people are pets. Masses to be housed and fed - not individuals with hopes and dreams every bit as important as those of the elites who want to be in charge. Then along comes Simmons to reinforce my point. 

His solution? Classical education. This he defines as "a curriculum grounded upon — if not strictly limited to — Greek, Latin, and the study of the civilizations from which they arose." (p. 15) It is not just a study of ancient wisdom, but also the languages which these cultures employed. This is where I began to think, "Well it's good enough just to study the cultures and their writings, but obviously the languages themselves are not critical. That's why we have translations." I was fully prepared to accept most of his argument, but the actual learning of the languages was another story.

The title comes from an Ancient Greek concept of scaling the highest mountain in Greece. "Climbing Parnassus once helped to form the unformed mind. The arduous ascent fostered intellectual and aesthetic culture within those who had endured the strain." (p. 20) It's hard, but ultimately satisfying. This he compares to Classical education. By studying the ancient languages as well, the student is immersed in the aesthetic and intellectual culture.

Simmons raises the bar for the purpose of education to a very high level. "Liberal education ought to aim not just at furnishing the mind with serviceable knowledge and information, nor even at habituating the mind to rational methods, but at leading it to wisdom, to a quality of knowledge tempered by experienced and imbued with understanding. It should, in a word, humanize... Liberal education civilizes. It transforms us. We are better for having run its course." (p. 30) To be truly educated, learning must speak to both the mind and the soul. "The Western mind elevated this mighty philosophical aim into an ideal. The inner takes precedence over the outer, the mind and soul compose an inseparable whole, and both are fed or starved together. No option exists to train the mind alone without producing soul-deep consequences." (p. 50-51) 

"What was to be the result of all this strenuous philosophical effort? The wise citizen fit to govern first himself and then — and only then — to govern others. Precisely in this way does one become free through liberal learning: first, by acquiring the right habits; second, by intellectual strain, by learning to apprehend the Beautiful and the Good with the mind. And the mind then confirms what the soul has already learned. One can become intellectually powerful, of course, without those right habits, but what good is that? The object of the ancients was not a programmable raticinative machine. It was the cultured man or woman." (p. 59) This is the only kind of education that leads to free people. 

Modern education has given up on transmitting the values of Western Civilization. While "education" is held as a high value, no one can define what that means. Once a standard has been tossed, it's open season on what will replace it. And every opinion is just as valid as another. Modern education has created a well-fed, well-clothed, well-housed mob. The society is not longer convinced that its culture is worthy of survival. He quotes Robert Hutchins, who writes that a "system that denies the existence of values denies the possibility of education. Relativism, scientism, skepticism, and anti-intellectualism, the four horsemen of the philosophical apocalypse, have produced that chaos in education which will end in the disintegration of the West." (p. 42)

But why Greek and Latin? Why do those languages and eras have such an impact on education? "Whereas the Greeks had learned only Greek, the Romans went on to learn both Latin and Greek — and the pattern was set: to be fully educated, enculturated man in the Greco-Roman world on had to know both tongues." (p. 62) He goes on to argue, "Together Greek and Latin constituted a lingua franca for the educated, one that endured for well over a millennium that witnessed colossal turns in the life of the Western world. Indeed they survived the very nations to which they had once given voice. The classical language stood as a sign — and, some thought, a guarantor — of permanence." (p. 72) In 1834, when educators began to make a case for the removal of the classical languages, English headmaster Thomas Arnold stated, "Expel Greek and Latin from your schools, and you confine the views of the existing generations to themselves and their immediate predecessors; you will cut off many centuries of the world's experience, and ... place us in the same state as if the human race had come into existence in the year 1500." (p. 72) Today, it is worse. Today we are confined to an existence that began yesterday. 

Simmons goes on to describe the educational system of the early Greeks and Romans. Education began at home. Here they learned the language, their "letters," and the poets. At around age 7 they went off to Grammar school to gain a more formal knowledge of the grammar of the language through "constant, pulverizing drill and numbing recitation," (p. 74) where no adult cared about stifling the child's inner creativity. Next came the study of literature, specifically poetry. No one cared about "appreciation." It was the student's job to know the material, not to criticize it. "Here was brass tacks schooling, no-frills and rigorous, where the student was set to acquiring a body of knowledge — in this case, literary and cultural knowledge. No one bothered about what we call skills of 'critical thinking,' which came naturally to anyone successfully navigating this course of study. Critical thinking was a result, not a target, of classical education." (p. 75) "So the teaching was strict, the learning hard. But waiting at the far end of the journey would be civilized human beings, citizens who had learned what their culture was about and what it needed to conserve." (p. 80)

This form of education continued from the classical times throughout the middle ages and into the modern era. During that time, Christianity became fused with it, marrying its theology to the eternal search for the Good, the True, and the Beautiful. But widespread, mandatory education made it increasingly difficult to maintain the rigor required. And when the "War to end all Wars" erupted, idealism became a casualty. "Heroism was dead, at least for the time being, as was the ideal of the gentleman. So was 'useless' knowledge. A new world waited to be built. Time had run out for the niceties of learning the words of the dead. The prism of classics sharpened the colors of the world no longer. Tags of classical quotation began to fall on deaf, uninstructed ears." (p. 147)

In the 1930s Albert Nock began to call for a return the classical style and aims of education. But the teaching of something previously abandoned required an argument for it implementation. It was no longer taken for granted that educated people knew their Latin and Greek. The argument took two forms. The first was a cultural literacy premise. A Classical education was necessary to interact with all of Western Civilization that had come before. Others, however, took the position that a Classical education was necessary to the formation of a human soul. This second notion is the harder argument to make. It feels undemocratic to "form" human beings. It's hard to measure, and it can fall victim to the philosophy of the one who does the forming. Yet it is this argument Simmons believes is the stronger. We no longer form humans. Our society is the poorer for it.

In making the contemporary case for the study of the classics and classical languages, Simmons states, "The glorious struggle is all a part — and an indispensable part — of climbing Parnassus. Thus do we learn both to freshen and strengthen our minds so as to be worthy conduits of high thought, eloquence, and, at the very least, clarity: not bad for one minute's, one hour's, or even one lifetime's, work. We are changed by it." (p. 179) 

To point out the need to study classic languages in order to better communicate in our native tongue, Simmons references a particularly bad piece of modern writing. He points out how far we have fallen from our Classical roots. He calls today's writing "the murky, self-important lingo emanating from the lit. crit. seminar in English departments. It doesn't exist to communicate anything to the cultivated mind. It exists to confuse and impress the easily bamboozled, uneducated, fee-paying sycophants. It pretends to profundity, but it's tripe. Language like this is not hatched for civilized people." (p. 184) What an indictment!

To make the point even more clear, he quotes C.S. Lewis at length concerning the education achieved without knowledge of the classical languages. Lewis calls the dichotomy the Optative and the Parthenon. One focuses on the construction of Greek, they other on subject matter content. "When the first fails it has, at the very least, taught the boy what knowledge is like. He may decide that he doesn't care for knowledge; but he knows he doesn't care for it, and he knows he hasn't got it. But the other fails most disastrously when it most succeeds. It teaches a man to feel vaguely cultured while he remains in fact a dunce. It makes him think he is enjoying poems he can't construe. It qualifies him to review books he does not understand, and to be intellectual without intellect." (p. 188)

As the rigor and logical rules of math form the mind to think rationally and clearly, Latin and Greek "give us codes of clarity and fluency." (p. 164) Simmons goes on to argue that Latin and Greek are the best way to learn our native tongue. "Greek and Latin were so taught for so many centuries because they were not native. Their very strangeness and dissimilarity to modern languages made them a unique, irreplaceable tool of teaching for those who would comprehend the workings of language en tout. The object was to gain an understanding of words from the inside, affording the learner an intimate familiarity with their separate and diverse natures." (p. 164-165) "Any student who has invested strenuous years with Latin, both reading and writing it, will own an obvious edge with English over those who haven't. Not only has that student learned what the words mean, he has learned what they have meant; he has seen them jostling and lounging in their original habitat. They've gamboled at his feet." (p. 168) Such a fluency of language could help avoid the meaningless quarrels arising from misunderstood and misused words.

In America, we rightly revere our Founding Fathers, "when people in power did what needed to be done about as well as you can imagine its being possible." (p. 199) We cannot separate them from their Classical education. These men knew their Latin and Greek and the civilizations that produced them. "Never have so many of the wise and well-read come together to do great things; never have book learning and practical experience combined to show the ignorant and cynical forevermore what the human mind and spirit can do when properly formed. Such wisdom cannot be manufactured for the moment — nor can it be aped. It must be cultivated. And it has to come from somewhere." (p. 200) John Adams relates a time when he decided to give up his classical studies. His dad told him that he could dig ditches instead. After a few days of arduous labor, he went back to school. Later in life, he concluded that he owed all he became to that ditch. "If we wish to understand the Founding Fathers from within, we should heed one simple axiom. Don't merely read about them; read what they read — as they read it." (p. 210)

When we look at great sentences, like "We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights, that among these are life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness, that in order to secure these rights governments are instituted among men deriving their just power from the consent of the governed..." that we can really see the majesty of their classical education. These few words contain so many large ideas, concentrated into the most melodic language, encapsulated in a single sentence. Who writes like that today? Who thinks like that? Who can boil down eternal truths, connect them together, and make the case for them like that? Today we are incapable of coming up with a similarly powerful sentiment simply because we do not have the education they had. We do not have the teachers they had. We do not have teachers with the teachers they had. Those men were able to stand on the shoulders of intellectual giants and see farther because they had been bequeathed a magnificent heritage, stretching back to and encompassing the best that humanity had to offer from the previous eons. At best, we can at least start the process. But, at best we are 100 years or more from producing anything like our Founding Fathers. 

The Classics deserve a standing "beyond use." We cannot know what a child will become. "We cannot know early on what kinds of minds and souls are waiting to develop amongst the young we teach. Not all of them may be fit as lawyers, surgeons, or software salesmen; greatness of other kinds may lie ahead for some — if only they be given the climbing gear early enough so as to help them make their own way. The impact of knowledge is impossible to predict. But this we can know: Ignorance is no asset, and the empty, formless mind is surely a positive liability. Few qualities can be more useful whatever one's future may hold, than the fortified mind." (p. 213-214)

In making the final argument for the Classics, Simmons points to classically educated authors Eliot, Auden, and Lewis. " 'To lose what I owe to Plato and Aristotle would be like the amputation of a limb,' Lewis said. 'Hardly any lawful price would seem to me too high for what I have gained by being made to learn Latin and Greek.' " (p. 223)  To compare the loss of anything to losing a limb strikes me as the ultimate endorsement. That simply cannot be said for anything in education today.

"English essayist William Hazlitt wrote that it is hard to find within people formed intellectually by means other than a classical education 'either a real love of excellence, or a belief that any excellence exists superior to their own. Everything is brought down to the vulgar level of their own ideas and pursuits.' ... An education saturating anyone in these great works of the classical past cannot help but enhance the minds and hearts of those enduring it. Our horizons broaden. We not only learn of principles discovered two or three millennia ago, we begin to grasp them. We become bigger, more tolerant, more generous. We grow up." (p. 228)

He continues to make a very strong case until the end of the book.

He convinced me. 

But the most persuasive argument was simply writing this summary. I found it better to quote him time and again because what he wrote was so succinct and perfectly encapsulated his thought. The clarity of his writing became even more clear in trying to summarize it. In short, I really couldn't. I could have quoted the entire book and just about did. 

I want to be that kind of writer.

The First Hostage by Joel Rosenberg

I enjoy Joel Rosenberg's books. I've read just about all of his fiction, as well as most of his non-fiction.  He came to my attention when he was noted for writing fiction seemingly "ripped from the headlines." He explained that the secret to his success was simply Scipture. He was following the prophecies and giving them a modern "what if?..."

While his books are interesting, they are not particularly examples of classical literature. They are fast food. This particular book, The First Hostage, is the second in a series of J.B. Collins novels. J.B. Is a hard-boiled reporter on assignment covering a peace conference in the Middle East. When the president disappears at the end of the last book, The Third Target, J.B. is right in the thick of the action.

He is with the King of Jordan, providing a witness as history unfolds. Eventually it becomes clear that the President has been taken hostage by ISIS. The forces of peace have only a couple of days to find him and save his life.

The book is exciting, but predictable. All ends well. J.B. is moving closer to giving his life to the Lord at the urging of his brother. J.B. looks to be getting the girl. Of course it doesn't really end. Like most serialized stories, this one awaits a sequel.

Lord of the Flies by William Golding

Lord of the Flies by William Golding begins in media res with an unnamed, insecure, overweight, and bespectacled boy finding another, older, confident peer, Ralph, as they stumble on the shore of the deserted island upon which they find themselves. Eventually our anonymous child lets slip that others have mocked him with the name of “Piggy.” Of course, in the manner of cruel boys, Ralph proceeds to call him the hated nickname. Eventually they find other boys, similarly abandoned to their fate. It is not made explicitly clear, but they seem to be the survivors of a plane crash. Jack arrives on the scene leading a band of choir boys who sing angelically as they approach the group. A small pissing contest ensues as Ralph and Jack determine the pecking order. Eventually an exploration of the island commences, and the boys discover they are truly alone.

With Ralph the recognized leader, he begins to organize the fledgling society. They find a large conch shell. Piggy suggest that possession of the conch will confer the power to speak at the rowdy meetings. It is determined that a large fire will be needed to send up constant smoke signals to lead rescuers to their location. Piggy’s glasses are used to start the fire. But the budding civilization is marred by rumors of a snake in the camp and potentially missing young boys. 

As can be predicted, progress on creating a civilized society proceeds in starts and stops. Ralph and Piggy work to get the structures built. Jack takes some of his boys off to hunt the feral pigs roaming the island. He becomes increasingly frustrated at his lack of success. The fire is neglected, and in the chaos, a young boy named Simon wanders off on his own.

Eventually a ship is spotted off the horizon. Yet in his lust for the kill, Jack has let the fire go out. In order to start another one, he viciously attacks Piggy, breaking one lens of the treasured glasses in the process. For complaining about his treatment, Piggy is denied the meat that Jack has finally procured and is sharing with the group. Ralph’s attempts to reinstate order and restart the fire-tending duties falter as the group becomes obsessed with rumors of a beast roaming the island.

Ralph and Jack try to determine once and for all if a beast is actually stalking them and turn up nothing. Meanwhile, Simon, in his wanderings has started to slowly lose touch with reality. This is becoming a common malady. Jack, with his obsession for killing pigs, has implemented a tribal mentality within his followers, complete with war paint and nakedness. In a bloody ceremony, they take a newly slaughtered pig’s head and post it on a stick, all paying homage to the “Lord of the Flies.”

Simon discovers the “beast” is actually a long-dead parachuter. Half-mad from his time spent alone in the jungle with the Lord of the Flies, he rushes to tell the others of his discovery. In the middle of their own power play, Jack has his tribe violently dancing, chanting, “Kill the beast.” While Ralph and Piggy helplessly look on, the group pounces on the unrecognizable, advancing Simon, slaughtering him like a pig.

The power quickly shifts to Jack as his groups seeks to rout out any others they feel are insufficiently devoted to their cause. Ralph and Piggy make up an increasingly small group as Jack’s triumphant boasts about his ability to feed them siphons even the most loyal away. Needing Piggy’s glasses to start a fire to cook their meat, they beat him up and go after Ralph as well. Eventually the barbarian tribe throws Piggy from a cliff and hunts down Ralph, wounding him. They take the twins, Samaneric, hostage, and lose all resemblance to a civilized group. 

In their zeal, they set the island on fire, trying to smoke out Ralph. The large conflagration attracts the attention of a nearby British cruiser. As the captain alights upon the shore he sees Ralph running towards him, being chased by Jack and his tribe. After remarking that the boys seem to be having a bit of fun, Ralph collapses before him into a sobbing mess. 

Golding, in a later interview, states that the purpose of the novel “is an attempt to trace the defects of society back to the defects of human nature. The moral is that the shape of a society must depend on the ethical nature of the individual and not on any political system however apparently logical or respectable.” (p. 204) As such, he tries to present a realistic scenario of human nature left alone to its own devices. He uses children and boys to negate the effects of a lifetime of civilizing and the tension that would exist between the sexes. He is trying to show civilization stripped of all of its supporting structures. 

He contrasts Ralph and Jack to show us two competing visions of society. On the one hand is Ralph, trying valiantly to preserve the vestiges of civilization. Opposing him is Jack. Jack is introduced to us a literal choir boy. But in his quest for power, he quickly devolves into a barbarian. 

We see the struggle in an exchange the boys engage in over whose turn it is to speak, since Piggy has the conch and Jack is interrupting. “‘The rules!’ shouted Ralph. ‘You're breaking the rules!’

‘Who cares?’

Ralph summoned his wits.

‘Because the rules are the only thing we’ve got!’

But Jack was shouting against him.

‘Bollocks to the rules! We’re strong —we hunt!’”

Ralph tries to implement order through the use of the conch and modesty through the maintaining of a shirt when most others have stripped down. Ralph’s is ultimately a losing battle. He barely escapes with his life. Piggy represents the voice of reason that is rejected and destroyed because it comes in an unattractive package. 

The story is told by an omniscient narrator, in long winded, descriptive sentences, punctuated by short bursts of dialogue. This contrasts the island as a “character” in the story, unrelenting, disinterested, beautiful, yet deadly, and existing long before the boys arrive, existing long after they leave, to the immature and childish boys. In short, they never had a chance. Nature and human nature conspire against civilization. Even the civilized forces that pick the boys up at the end are part of a military that is traveling around the world to annihilate the enemy. They are grown up Jacks. In this way, the story doesn’t so much end as shift to another setting. 

I sympathize with Ralph throughout most of the story. Although he starts off a bratty boy, taunting Piggy and doing his best to make Piggy feel insignificant, in his quest to maintain order, he comes to value Piggy and his opinions. Jack scares me. He scares me because he is us. He is so terrifying because Golding is exactly right that the forces of the barbarian will dominate the forces of civilization if left to their own devices. 

As to the question of the human condition, Golding definitely makes the argument that human nature is violent and tribalistic, but we have managed to dress it up in “civilized” institutions. I disagree somewhat. While our nature remains violent and tribal, those maligned institutions help channel it in a more productive manner. They keep us from becoming wholly Jack. They may cover up the real nature, but getting that real nature under some sort of control is a worthy goal. I believe that writing, as he did, after World War II definitely colored his thesis. He brooks no argument in clearly making the case that mankind is, at its core, barbaric. Reason cannot exist long in this world. 

Inferno by Dante

Continuing with Hillsdale College's online Great Books 101 course, I read the Inferno by Dante, translated by Anthony Esolen. The wonderful thing about this course is that I have been able to use it as an excuse to force myself to read books I wouldn't normally pick up. It has certainly been eye-opening how accessible the books are. My assumption was that old, classic books would be difficult to understand and engage with. I haven't found that to be true at all. It seems they are classics for a reason. Everyone can access them and the themes are universal. My only issue with this particular book was the unfamiliarity with the various people Dante finds as he journeys into Hell. In his day, the names would have brought instant recognition. Today, many are lost, even to scholars. It's unfortunate because it would have made the reading that much richer. To be able to access the history that goes along with each name would have made Dante's placement and commentary that much fuller. But as it is, the poem survives anyways as a classic tale of human nature.


Dante begins by waking in a wood. He does not know how he got there or where he is. He looks up a mountain to see the sun rising over it. He has a sense that he should go up there, but he is suddenly confronted by savage beasts, blocking his way. Into his terror appears a man who causes the beasts to disappear. Answering Dante's question as to his identity, he reveals  himself to be the long dead Virgil, author of the Aenid, one of Dante's inspirational texts. Virgil is there to lead Dante in a journey through the Inferno, or Hell. Dante wonders how it is that he, a mere ordinary mortal, should be allowed to see what only those like Paul and ancient heroes have seen. Virgil replies that it is at the special request of Dante's deceased love, Beatrice. They have Divine permission and protection to travel the depths.

After crossing the river Acheron on Charon's ferry with the other souls, they enter the first of nine layers of concentric circles which move ever downward towards the deepest depths of Hell. This is called Limbo. As a virtuous, but nevertheless unbaptized man, it is the home of Virgil. Here we find other pre-Christians, like Socrates and Plato, as well as many other Greeks, and unbaptized infants. Their eternal fate is simply knowing they missed out on salvation. It is not a place of torment, but of hopelessness.

The next circle is for those guilty of lust. These souls, notably Paolo and Francesca and Helen of Troy, are swept up in a storm gale. Unable to control themselves in life, they are unable to control their movement in Hell. Around and around they fly. It is in this level they encounter Minos, the judge of which level a soul will descend.

After escaping Cerberus, the mythical three-headed dog that guards hell, they descend to level three, the place of the gluttonous. It is here that the souls, who were never satisfied in life, endure a punishing rain of sewage. They are subjected to an overabundance, a punishment fitting for those who couldn't get enough. It is here that Dante meets Ciacco, a fellow Florentine, who tells Dante of the future of his beloved city. One quirk of Hell is that the damned can see the future, but not the present. They know what will happen, but are never sure of what is happening.

They continue onto the fourth circle where the avaricious find their home. No one is directly named here, but as they push their boulders at one another, they jeer and mock each other. As they sought more and more material goods in life, so they are eternally bound to their boulders, a manifestation of their greed, eternally striving in their Sisyphean task.

In the fifth circle they find both those condemned by wrath and the sullen. It is in this level that they encounter the river, Styx. On its banks the wrathful are forever fighting, never winning their battles. They are confronted by Filippo Argenti, a personal enemy of Dante's. He is eventually ripped to pieces by the others at the river. Of course, he will not die, but will be reconstructed to repeat this process again. Such is the justice of Hell. They cross the river with Phlegyas as their ferryman to encounter the high walls of Dis. This walls seems to separate the levels of sin. Beyond this wall are those who more actively engaged in their sin. At this point they encounter the demons who guard the gate and will not let them pass. They must wait for an angel to appear to open the gates for them.

Now in the sixth level, Dante meets more fellow Florentines including Farinata, a part of the warring political factions. He also meets his friend's father. They have a discussion as to whether or not the man's son is already dead. This is where we come to understand the dead are destined to never know the present. These heretics, who denied the existence of a soul, are condemned to reside forever in burning graves, suffering bodily pain.

As they descend into the seventh circle, the home of the violent, they pass the tomb of Pope Anastasius just on the inner rim of the sixth circle. While not a heretic, he did try to compromise too much, thereby not really upholding the truth.

The seventh level is divided into three parts according to whom the violence was done against - self, others, or God. Those who did violence to God are further divided into the blasphemers, Sodomites, and usurers. This circle is guarded by the Minotaur and the Centaurs guard the banks of its river, Phlegethon. In this boiling river are the murderers who are shot at as they try to escape. They spilled blood and will now spend an eternity bathing in it. Notables in this area include Alexander the Great and Attila the Hun. One can presume Hitler would find his home here if Dante lived today. Those who committed violence against themselves are entombed as living trees. Like trees, their branches break, but as humans, they bleed. Those who hurt themselves are to be constantly hurt by others. Dante meets a famous poet, Pierre della Vigna, who killed himself when imprisoned and subjected to slander. This needless death of an honorable man and the conflation of the created with the creator, causes some sympathy from Dante, but ultimately these are below the murders of others. The violent against God suffer rains of fire on a burning desert landscape. The blasphemers are forced to lay flat on the burning sand. It recalls Moses, removing his sandals because he is standing on holy ground. These sprawl on the ground, naked and exposed as they tried to hide the truth. The Sodomites must run continually through the burning fire. Dante alludes to the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah with the raining sulfur. This violence against God denies the natural order of man. Virgil summons the monster Geryon by throwing Dante's belt over a cliff and flies on his back to the eighth circle. On the way, they fly over the usurers, those who demanded unreasonable interest. This is considered violence against God because it attacks the honest value of labor, causing others to be caught in a trap they could not get out of no matter how hard they worked.

Dante has slowed down considerably in his writing by this point of the story. He has ceased describing one level per canto and now devotes several cantos to each area. I believe this is a deliberate way to closely examine those ways in which certain sins most offend a holy God.

We are halfway through the poem, but only to the eighth circle, that of the fraudulent. Like the violent, Dante give separate areas to different types of fraud. This level has ten ditches or what Dante calls "malebolges" - evil pouches, connected by bridges. They cannot go in the ditches, but they can look down into them.

The first is filled with the seducers and panderers. These run back and forth, whipped by demons.

The second is full of the flatterers and excrement, a physical representation of what they heaped on their listeners.

The third pouch holds the Simonists, "those who use church offices for profiteering," who rest upside down in baptismal founts, their feet burned according to the depth of their sin. The irony is that they turned their office upside down. In addition, instead of washing other's feet, their own feet are burned. But the most dramatic part of this poem is that not only is a pope found here, but he prophesies that the current pope will join him!

The diviners and astrologers fill the fourth hole. Punished for thinking they could foretell the future, their heads are screwed on backwards. They are forced to forever walk the circumference of the circle, never knowing what lies in their path.

The fifth ditch contains the grafters or those who bribed public officials. They resided in a river of boiling tar, guarded by a group of demons united in their buffoonery and mutual contempt. This is public service gone horribly awry.

In the sixth chasm, we find the hypocrites. Once again, we see religious figures forced to pay for their sins. These wear heavy lead cloaks that are guilded on the outside, a manifestation of their hypocrisy. These weighted down souls, traverse the ditch ever-so-slowly, while trampling across a naked Caiaphas, crucified to the ground.

We see the thieves in the next hole. As they are constantly bit by serpents, they transfigure into the snakes, then they burst into flames, only to regenerate and have the process repeated. Their transmission speaks to their lack of boundaries in life, taking what wasn't theirs.

The eighth ditch contains the fraudulent counselors. Here we find Ulysses and Diomedes. These are constantly engulfed in a flame. Interestingly, Dante gets Ulysses to tell the tale of how he died. Discontented at home, he convinces men to join him in a journey beyond the sea. Although this tale is original to Dante, it was so popular, it made it into the Ulysses' mythology. We also hear of the corruption of the still alive Pope Boniface.

Next to last, we find the sowers of discord. Here resides Mohammed. Since they divided peoples and nations in life, their bodies are slashed and dismembered.

"The last of the Evil Pouches is stuffed full of confidence men, quacks, charlatans, imposters, and assorted clever artists of various bunk. They are the dry rot of a people. Afflicted with this or that lingering and nauseating disease, in Hell they now sit propped against one another like pans in an over, or they scratch themselves ceaselessly like flea-ridden dogs." (p. 503) Like the entire circle, this pouch is further divided into those who falsified metals, persons, coins, and words.

Finally they descend to the final, ninth circle of Hell. Here they find the traitors. Once again, there are different levels as Dante and Virgil approach the final level of the Inferno. This final circle is also subdivided. He first encounters the very dull-witted giants. These thought to subvert God by the strength of their raw power. Here, they are left with little brains and their power does them no good. Here we also find the traitors to family, homeland, guests, and benefactors. Once again, many religious figures permeate this level. In one particularly gruesome encounter, Dante finds a man chewing on the brains of an archbishop who betrayed him and his family. Soon, Dante notices a wind blowing and the temperature dropping.

At the very bottom level, we encounter Satan, chomping on Brutus, Judas, and Cassius, the most infamous of all traitors. Satan himself is biggest traitor of the all. He is encased in ice from his waist down and his wings flap furiously as he tries to free himself. It is this motion that creates the wind and keeps the ice frozen. Dante eschews the usual picture of Hell as burning hot. He believes light and warmth belong to God. Eventually, by climbing down Satan's hide and then reversing themselves as they pass through the center of the earth, they emerge in the Southern hemisphere, ready to venture onto the next epic, that of Purgatory.

The imagination of Dante is stunning, but one of the most shocking part is his inclusion of real people. He has definitely not only passed judgment on them and placed them in Hell, he has decided exactly which part they will inhabit. It's fascinating how he pulls no punches, even condemning those still alive and in power. It's also interesting that he makes no distinction between mythical figures and real human beings. Ulysses occupies the same universe as Virgil and Socrates, along with the Minotaur and the Cyclops.

It would definitely be helpful to be familiar with all the people he references in order to understand the nuances of their placement. However, it's still a good book for the imagery and the meaning behind the ironic punishments. Clearly, Dante has put a lot of thought into this. I really believe he is onto something. Obviously, we cannot know what Hell is like, but Dante engages in a vivid thought experiment asking us to journey with him into the Inferno.

I got a lot of use out of this chart. It does an excellent job of describing each level and who resides therein.

The History of the Medieval World by Susan Wise Bauer

After reading Susan Wise Bauer’s The History of the Ancient World, I continued on by reading The History of the Medieval World. I’m sure I will also read, The History of the Renaissance World at some point soon. 

I enjoy reading her history books because, although long, they are relatively quick snippets of historical happenings as she jumps from country to country. This gives the reader a chance to see what else is going on “meanwhile, back on the farm,” so to speak. 

The only thing I struggle over is the fact that this summary will take me FOREVER!. I write these so that I don’t forget the material that I spent weeks reading. I know writing it up is a good exercise, but it’s a little like eating broccoli. Good for me, but hard to swallow.

So here goes.

The book opens on Constantine and his conversion to Christianity. The extent to which his faith was genuine can be debated, but politically, “he saw in Christianity a new and fascinating way of understanding the world, and in Christians a mode of what Roman citizens might be, bound together by loyalty that transcended but did not destroy their local allegiances.” (p. 7) Christianity would be the glue that would hold the disparate empire together. However, like all totalitarian rulers, Constantine would only be able to hold the empire together through the force of his will. His sons waited in the wings to grab power and Persia watched for an opportunity to attack.

Meanwhile, in the East, the Han dynasty fell and the Jin took its place. However it couldn’t hold onto the “Mandate of Heaven” for long. The north fell to barbarian tribes, while the East remained in Jin control longer. Yet it was unstable. During this time, Buddhism increased in influence with the population.

After the death of Constantine, as expected, his three sons battled for power. Eventually, his second son Constantius prevailed, yet he was eventually forced to share power with his cousin, Julian. Upon the death of Constantius, Julian assumed full control. He renounced Christ and tried to return the Empire to its former glory by returning to the Roman religion. After dying in a battle with the Persians, he position went to Jovian. He returned the empire to Christianity, but he was a weak leader and left no heir.

Eventually co-emperors Valentinian and his brother Valens rule the empire, but repeated attacks and loses to the surrounding barbarian nations weaken the divided empire. After the death of Valens, Theodosius takes over in the East. He tries to enforce one “catholic” church. By making the Goths allies instead of enemies he buys a time of peace. However, he has only papered over the real differences between the peoples. After killing a power rival out of Britain, a Spaniard named Magnus Maximus, and marrying the sister of Valentinian II, Theodosius assumes the head of the entire empire. He also finds he has to subject himself to a very powerful church and must ban any act of worship to the old Roman gods. 

Upon the death of Theodosius, his young sons (ages 18 and 10) take the helm, each one taking half. However, they are only the puppets of powerful generals, Stilcho in the West and Rufinus in the East. After killing Rufinus, Stilcho crosses paths with the powerful Eutropius who eventually banishes Stilcho from any position of power in the East. The Empire has officially turned against itself.

The Western half of the Roman Empire begins to crumble as the Vandals move all the way in and sack Rome. The echoes of this debacle would be felt all the way in North Africa where a monk named Augustine writes Confessions and City of God based on Rome’s fall. Meanwhile, in the East, Theodosius II and the church struggle with theological issues, barely even registering the calamity on the other side.

While the West becomes slowly taken completely over by the barbarians, the Huns are amassing power to the North. Eventually the sister of the emperor agrees to marry Attila the Hun in order to make space for peace. But before Honoria can can marry him, Attila attacks Italy, defeating the Western emperor. Eventually the Pope make a peace with Attila, effectively ending the Huns opportunity for nationhood. Attila goes on to marry another woman and dies the night of the ceremony, leaving an enormous power vacuum. 

In order to strengthen the East, the emperor tried to enforce an orthodoxy on the people in opposition to the Roman pope. In Persia, they too believe more orthodoxy will help cement their power. Therefore they turn to the persecution of Christians, Jews, and Armenians for political reasons. 

Meanwhile, over in the barely civilized lands of England, Ireland, and Scotland, the Irish tribes are united by Niall. At the same time, a Roman slave named Patrick escapes captivity. But he returns to Ireland, bringing with him the Christian message. In Britain, Vortigern struggles to hold onto power and invites the Angle and Saxon tribes to help him fight against the Picts. Britain will never be the same again. Eventually a leader named Ambrosias Aurelianus will give birth to the Arthurian legends. 

Over on the continent, the Western Roman Empire officially disintegrates due to multiple barbarian attacks. In a crushing, and ignominious end, the last emperor is kidnapped and not replaced. It is there that St. Benedict leads a very devout group of followers. The Eastern half is not faring well either. They have tried to maintain the fiction that they still are a Roman Empire, but it is increasingly in the hands of barbarian leaders. Finally, the East loses all contact with the West. Justin and his nephew Justinian rise to power with the support of the “Blue” fans.

While the West is ruled by various barbarian tribes, these people groups battle to make themselves powerful nations. Clovis rises to the top of the Frankish king candidates. “From 509 until his death, Clovis ruled from his new capital, Paris, as the first Christian king of the Franks, the first law-giving king of the Franks, the first king of all the Franks. His descendants, taking their name from the legendary warrior Merovech, would occupy the throne for the nest two centuries as the Merovingian dynasty — the first royal dynasty of the Franks.” (p. 175)

Justinian involves himself in a very controversial marriage an actress and ex-hooker. She is a newly converted Christian and together, they work to reform the complex laws that have evolved in the East. On the authority of Christ, they expel heretics and try to purify the faith. They seek to revive the old Roman Empire. He is able to have some success wresting old lands from the barbarians, but plagues, intrigues, and the Persians trouble him at home. Upon his death, his incompetent and possible mad nephew, Justin II takes over.

While China is the most advanced civilization in the Far East, the 3 kingdoms of Korea engaged in continuous battles for supremacy on the peninsula. Japan, meanwhile, starts to unify, tentatively accepting Buddhism, following the Chinese example, and creates a “Mandate of Heaven” of their own. Over in China, the short-lived Sui dynasty finally manages to unite China. They reinforce the Great wall and build the Grand Canal. As they try to take advantage of Korean infighting, they suffer defeat. Eventually the Tang dynasty replaces the Sui. 

Clovis’s kingdom splits in 3 upon his death. This leads to constant war between the areas. Finally, 3 “mayors” are given the power in each region, all allegedly under a central king. But this ruler is largely ignored and impotent. 

Because the tribes in the West are largely Christian, the Pope still has influence. He sends Christian missionaries to Britain, bringing the unifying presence of a religion and civilization to the land still under control of battling tribes. It is here that Saint Augustine works to spread the gospel message. 

Now called the Byzantine Empire, the Eastern half of the old Roman empire appears on the verge of collapse as their neighbors to the North invade time and again. Yet in a miraculous series of events, the Byzantines are saved and their enemy the Persians weakened. 

Over in a little noticed part of the world, Muhammed is born in Mecca. His religious visions lead to persecution and he fled to Medina. Eventually his religion becomes entwined with a political formation. He and his followers conquer the disbelieving Mecca. Upon his death, Abu Bakr led the fight for all of Arabia and against the weakened Persians. They threaten Byzantium as well. In addition, they take over Jerusalem. This rapid expansion tests the new faith and their ability to govern. They have difficulty remaining united. A struggle begins over the succession of new ruler between the Shi’ite and the Sunni divisions. Once they finally coalesce around a competent ruler they take North Africa as well. But the prize is Byzantium, whom they are unable to completely defeat. 

After taking North Africa, the Muslims move up into Hispania, taking it from the Visigoths who ruled there. Eventually the Frankish Charles Martel defeats their march North and Eastward throughout the rest of the continent. 

Meanwhile, Byzantium is in the midst of yet another theological fight. By destroying and condemning all icons, they pick a fight with Rome. This eventually leads to the Papacy gaining the Papal States as an independent entity. 

Upon the death of Charles Martel, his successor Pippin and then Charlemagne make alliances with the Pope. This powerful entity leads to Charlemagne’s recognition as the Holy Roman Emperor, giving him dominion over the Italian Lombard lands. While over in the Eastern half, chaos reigns eventually giving way to the most ignoble outcome - a woman, Empress Irene, on the throne. When Bulgarians almost destroy Byzantium, they make an alliance with Charlemagne. But it is very weak. 

At this time, the far-flung, far from united, Muslim Empire is divided into 3 components over power struggles and succession issues. It continues to fracture as the Sunni and Shi’ite divisions sharpen. The Shi’ites believe the ruler should be a direct descendant of Mohammed. In addition, the Turks rise to power to challenge the movement of the Islamic Empire. 

Once again, another kingdom is split over succession issues, that of Charlemagne. His Frankish Empire is weakened when it is divided between his two sons. At this time, the Vikings come down from the North into the Eastern part of Europe where the Rus hold power. Eventually they also set their sights on Byzantium. The Eastern Frankish kingdom also battles Byzantium for control of the lands between them. The Bulgarians get into it too, asserting a different form of Christianity. This eventually leads to the Cyrillic alphabet as missionaries Cyril and his brother translate the Bible for the people to the north of Byzantium in an effort to secure their loyalties. 

The Vikings are also moving South into Britain. Alfred the Great is able to battle them to a standstill, but it is clear that they will remain a permanent presence. Across the channel, the Franks decide to pacify the invading Vikings by giving them their own area to govern, Normandy. The Eastern Frankish Empire finally succumbs to the invading Germanic tribes. Eventually this area will become Germany. Alfred’s successors will eventually succeed in uniting Britain, but will lose the throne to the Scandinavians. 

Over in the East, the Byzantines are battling with the northern Bulgarians. This nascent nation-state is trying to achieve a recognition of its status. They battle to a stalemate. The Vikings, settling in among the Rus people have taken on that identity. After converting to Christianity, they also begin to threaten the Byzantine Empire to their south. 

In the Muslim world, the three areas have solidified into 3 distinct areas, Spain, Egypt/Northern Africa, and Arabia. In the middle of this, Persia begins to reassert itself leading to the fall of the Arabian Caliph. They would soon face an invading force in the Crusaders. Otto had come to power in the Holy Roman Empire. He had consolidated his power with the help of the Pope and together they called for a Crusade against the Islamic regime occupying the Holy Land. To the West, Hugh Capet came to power over the Frankish Kingdom. Modern dynasties began to take shape.

Back to the Western half of the old Roman Empire, Otto III, king of Germany, finds he no longer needs the Pope’s blessing. He ends up appointing his own, German Pope. This is met with anger from the Pro-Rome forces. There is much back and forth, determining who the Pope should be, but the local situation proves decisive. The Normans have infested Italy. The eventual German king dies, leaving a child as an heir. The Pope made common cause with the neighboring Normans and the Holy Roman Empire is split.

After years of trying to conquer England once and for all, the Normans of Denmark finally manage to steal the throne. However, they really just want to settle in the land and so through intermarriage, an Englishman, the last living son of Ethelred the Unready is poised to inherit the throne. Unfortunately, Edward the Confessor left no heir. His confidant Godwin manages to manipulate the situation to get his son Harold on the throne upon Edward’s death. Unfortunately, William of Normandy believes he has a claim as well. After defeating his brother, Harold turned to the invading Normans. He lost in the Battle of Hasting in 1066. The Vikings had found another way to the throne.

Meanwhile, far to the East, Byzantium is crumbling before the advancing Turks. While in the West, the King Henry IV is finding it difficult to remain at odds with the Pope. He is excommunicated by Pope Gregory VII. This ultimately leads to a humility pleading for mercy and repentance before he is allowed back into the fold. When the desperate East calls Henry IV for help to fight off the Normans in their small remaining territory in Southern Italy, Pope Urban calls for a Crusade. But the Crusaders don’t stop in Italy. Eventually they continue all the way to the Holy Land and capture Jerusalem after 2 years of fighting. These holy fighters eventually form a religious order. Like Constantine at the beginning, politics and the church remain intimately intertwined. 

Confessions by Saint Augustine

In my quest to read books more than 100 years old, and also as part of Hillsdale's Great Books 101 course, I came to read Confessions by Saint Augustine.

It was, as they say, "thick." 

Augustine is writing a book to God, detailing his struggles to accept His Lordship. He tells of his early life, and some of what happened to him, but it is not really a well-laid out biography. It's a prayer. It's a conversation with God. We can almost hear God answering back or at least nodding as he reads the treatise.

The title has a double connotation. Augustine is confessing his sins. He is confessing his wayward heart that struggled against what he ultimately knew to be right. He is confessing his faulty ideas and beliefs. But it is also a confession of praise. He is giving God what God is due - his praise and adoration. 

He opens with, "You are great, Lord, and highly to be praised. (Ps. 47:2)" (p. 3) In fact the entire book is almost one scriptural quotation after another. It is clear that Augustine has studied and KNOWS the Word of God. 

He follows that the most well-known of statements, "Nevertheless, to praise you is the desire of man, a little piece of your creation. you stir man to take pleasure in praising you, because you have made us for yourself, and our heart is restless until it rests in your." (p. 3)

He admits early on that it wasn't always so easy for him to praise God. God felt distant. Yet Augustine states, "So too let him rejoice and delight in finding you who are beyond discovery rather than fail to find you by supposing you to be discoverable." (p. 8) The failure, he sees, in in the not seeking. 

As an intellectual, Augustine admits that he used his mental abilities to question God and his tenets. He strayed far from the faith his mother, Monica, raised him in. Now he sees his error and confesses his sins. He now recognizes the supremacy of God. But that is now. Augustine has to take us (and God) back through the journey that led him here. 

He begins, "I intend to remind myself of my past foulnesses and carnal corruptions, not because I love them but so that I many love you, my God. It is from love of your love that I make the act of recollection." (p. 24) Augustine's purpose is not to revel in his sin, but to demonstrate the glory of God in rescuing such a sinner as he.

His father was not a believer, but raised him with a good education. Augustine abandoned his mother's cries that he serve God and followed the path of worldliness offered by his father. It is at this point he relates the famous "pear story." He and some friends stole some pears from a neighbor's tree and threw them to the pigs. This seemingly innocent prank has weighed heavily upon Augustine and he analyzes it to see what actually happened. 

Upon reflection, he says, "So the soul fornicates (Ps. 72:27) when it is turned away from you and seeks outside you the pure and clear intentions which are not to be found except by returning to you. In their perverted way all humanity imitates you. Yet they put themselves at a distance from you and exalt themselves against you. But even by thus imitating you they acknowledge that you are the creator of all nature and so concede that there is no place where one can entirely escape from you." (p. 32) He discovers in this theft an act of pure rebellion against a God he refuses to serve. His childish folly indicated the depth of his sinful heart. "Was it possible to take pleasure in what was illicit for no reason other than that it was not allowed?" (p. 32) For Augustine, all sin is humanity shaking their fist and saying, "You are not the God of me." In that way, we "imitate" Him and seek to become Him. 

As a student at Carthage, Augustine became swept up in an intellectual group called the Manichees who fancied themselves deep philosophers.They asked questions about God that Augustine couldn't answer. They repeated ancient heresies concerning the make up of God as a physical being and whether He created evil or not. They deceived and confused Augustine and caused him to doubt what his mother had taught him. Meanwhile she prayed. She poured her heart out to God, begging Him for the soul of her son. God graciously kept Augustine in the dark until he could wrestle his way out of it, while comforting his mom with signs of a future conversion. 

Augustine loved his life of the mind and good friends. He delighted in their conversations, knowing they were taking him further away from the truth. But eventually, a friend dies. This brutal blast of reality has him realizing that there must be something more stable. He comes to acknowledge that "O Lord our God, under the covering of our wings (Exod. 19:4) we set our hope. Protect us and bear us up. It is you who will carry us; you will bear us up from our infancy until old age (Isa. 46:4) When you are our firm support, then it is firm indeed. But when your support rests on our own strength, it is infirmity." (p. 71)

Augustine recounts his time in Carthage, then Rome, then Milan He finds himself increasingly questioning the Manichee philosophy and finding himself drawn to Catholicism. The bishop Ambrose, whom Augustine began to listen to out of curiosity, seemed to easily answer the questions the Manichees found so vexing and unanswerable. Augustine realized that the Catholic faith had already wrestled with these questions and had answers. Intellectually, Augustine feels the pull, but cannot yet convert with his heart. While his mother is confident that he will, he continues to resist that pull. He states, "I had not yet come to groan in prayer that you might come to my aid. My  mind was intent on inquiry and restless for debate." (p. 92) He was anxious to confront the Manichees with his new found answers. But he had not yet come to a place of surrender.

Augustine spends a couple of chapters telling God of the intellectual struggles he faced. He goes through his reasoning premise by premise. He finally manages to come to a place where he feels his questions answered, especially about the nature of evil.

Knowing he must convert, but continuing to resist, Augustine confesses despair at how easily those less intellectual than he and his friends come to faith. This stumbling block in addition to the knowledge that he must give up his illicit love life, almost causes him to turn back. Finally, in desperation, he grabs a Bible. "I seized it, opened it and in silence read the first passage on which my eyes lit: 'Not in riots and drunken parties, not in eroticism and indecencies, not in strife and rivalry, but put on the Lord Jesus Christ and make no provision for the flesh in its lusts.' (Rom. 13:13-14)" (p. 153) He was delighted and astonished to find a "random" verse that spoke so directly to his struggles. It was time to "make no provision for the flesh" and follow Christ. 

After his conversion, Augustine gives up his job as a teacher of rhetoric. He returns to his delighted mother. When she dies shortly afterwards, he mourns her, but is grateful that she saw the day he converted to her faith. 

This is followed by a few other "books" on Augustine's thoughts concerning various philosophical truths. In Book X he reflects upon "memory." He believes that we "remember" ephemeral things. We long for more. This, he believes, is proof of God's existence. Or else where do these "memories" come from? He believes our desire to be happy comes from God. He seems to be arguing that the fact that we know there is more to life is proof that there is in fact, more to life. He also comes to believe that he can actually put all sin in his life to death in order to pursue the good he "remembers" and longs for.

Book XI has Augustine going very deep into the concept of time and eternity. His arguments twist and turn and take a lot of brainpower to keep up with. One concept, though, that I found especially intriguing was the fact that God exists in the eternal "now." I sort of already knew this, but it helps explain why God never changes. If God changed, it would indicate the passage of time. But time does not pass for Him. It's also why one thousand years can be like a day and vice versa. If all moments are "now" then it's all just the present for God. He really stretched my brain when he discusses the fact that there can be no "before" God created time. "Before" indicates an existence of time, which by definition did not exist then. I cannot even really speak of "then." That also indicates a time frame. Mind. Blown. 

He goes even deeper still in Book XII, discussing what exactly Moses meant when he called the world "formless and void" at the start of creation. He offers multiple interpretations and then speculates that all or none of them are correct. Don't read this part in bed, like I did. It definitely deserves a second or third reading to make sense of it.

Finally, in Book XIII, he meditates deeply on who God is. This part also requires a few re-readings. He dives into the nature of God and man and the Trinity. He wonders about parts of Genesis and cautions against hyperliteralism. He knows man is made for God, but that without man, God is complete in Himself. He sums up his ultimate confession of the supremacy of God.

The beauty of Confessions is that Augustine wrestles with questions man has wrestled with for eons. As he works through it all, he ends up right where his mother and other "simpletons" knew he would - praising God. While Augustine is no fool, it becomes clear that God "uses the foolish things of this world to shame the wise." Augustine takes thirteen books to conclude that man's chief purpose is to glorify God. 

One particular paragraph really caught my eye. It is so timeless, expressing the eternal truth about mankind's struggle to submit to God. "But why is it that 'truth engenders hatred'? Why does your man who preaches what is true become to them an enemy (Gal. 4:16) when they love the happy life which is simply joy grounded on truth? The answer must be this: their love for truth takes the form that they love something else and want this object of their love to be the truth; and because they do not wish to be deceived, they do not wish to be persuaded that they are mistaken. And so they hate the truth for the sake of the object which they love instead of the truth. They love truth for the light it sheds, but hate it when it shows them up as being wrong (John 3;20; 5:35)" (p. 199-200) This is perfect encapsulation of our rejection of God. We cannot give up our idols. We cannot be told we are wrong.

Augustine makes a powerful case for surrender. He finds true happiness, joy, and answers to his deepest questions when he turns his life over to Truth.