The Triumph of William McKinley by Karl Rove

I heard about this book when Dennis Prager interviewed Karl Rove about it on his radio show. Rove is not my favorite person, and I long ago swore off books written by conservative celebrities, but I do love history. Plus, my American History teacher in high school was William McKinley's direct descendant. So I felt a connection. The Triumph of William McKinley also came highly recommended by people I respect all over the front and back covers. How could I not love it?

Unfortunately, I didn't finish the book.

I'm sure it is fascinating to political insiders and those who love the horse race aspect of it. But it was too "inside baseball" for me. Too many names, too many nuanced policy positions, too many players to keep up with.

McKinley seems like a great guy. He seems to be a political genius. I just wish we got to know him more and less about the minutia of the process.

Toxic Charity

After having read When Helping Hurts, I noticed that a book called Toxic Charity by Robert D. Lupton, was also mentioned frequently alongside the other. So I put it on my list. Of the two, I think When Helping Hurts is the one I would read if I had to choose one, but they go hand in glove. In addition, I would recommend Poverty.Inc, a documentary to round out the course. 

While acknowledging a good heart behind charity efforts, the book starts off with a counterintuitive statement, “The compassion industry is almost universally accepted as a virtuous and constructive enterprise… Yet those closest to the ground — on the receiving end of this outpouring of generosity — quietly admit that it may be hurting more than helping?” (p. 2-3) The obvious reason for this is the dependency it creates. “When we do for those in need what they have the capacity to do for themselves, we disempower them.” (p. 3) Boom. There it is, right there. Mic drop.

So when does well-meaning relief become toxic? Luton gives the example of Hurricane Katrina which struck New Orleans. Six years later, relief was still being offered. He says, “When relief does not transition to development in a timely way, compassion becomes toxic.” (p. 7)

So in order to prevent Toxic Charity, he gives the compassionate crowd an oath he wants them take:

• Never do tor the poor what they have (or could have ) the capacity to do for themselves.
• Limit one-way giving to emergency situations.
• Strive to empower the poor through employment, lending, and investing, using grants sparingly to reinforce achievements.
• Subordinate self-interests to trends of those being served.
• Listen closely to those you seek to help, especially to what is not being said — unspoken feelings may contain essential clues to effective service.
• Above, all, do no harm. (p. 8)

He tells a story of a typical compassionate endeavor. A struggling seminary in Cuba was hosting U.S. volunteers. Twenty youth and adults arrived to lay tile in a new dormitory addition. They had no experience and the shoddy work had to be ripped out and done by local contractors after they left. The kitchen staff worked overtime to provide good, American-style food. Faculty members had to arrange the myriad logistical concerns such as housing and transportation. The president of the seminary knew the $30,000 spent by the volunteers on the trip was a total waste and cost her precious resources. But to turn them down would have endangered the much smaller cash donations the volunteering church made regularly to her ministry. This heartbreaking story is repeated countless times all over the world. 

The author found himself guilty of toxic charity right at home. He had worked for years with a group delivering holiday food and presents. But he discovered the lack of men in the house was often a symptom of shame as they hid from the volunteers. An emotional price tag cost those he most wanted to help. 

Then he discovered a quote from Jacques Ellul, a French philosopher in his book, Money and Power:

It is important that giving be truly free. It must never degenerate into charity, in the pejorative sense. Almsgiving is Mammon’s perversion of giving. It affirms the superiority of the giver, who thus gains a point on the recipient, binds him, demands gratitude, humiliates him and reduces him to a lower state than he had before. (p. 34)

Wow. Charitable giving can degenerate into a perversion. A counterfeit of true charitable love. This is a huge charge being made. But I believe Lupton backs it up. 

His solution is to return to a mindset based on Micah 6: 8, “And what does the Lord require of you? To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God.” We are to “act justly” and “love mercy.” Lupton elaborates, “Twinned together, these commands lead us to a holistic involvement. Divorced, they become deformed. Mercy without justice degenerates into dependency and entitlement, preserving the power of the giver over the recipient. Justice without mercy is cold and impersonal, more concerned about rights than relationships.” (p. 41) Therefore, we must make sure our charitable efforts do both. But how? He recommends doing your due diligence as any investor would. “And if you don’t have time to invest in foraging a trusting relationship, give your money to a ministry that does.” (p. 49)

Although he specifically works in domestic ministry, he discusses foreign aid as well. He describes the $1 trillion in charitable aid that has been given to Africa as “Dead Aid.” A Zambian economist, Dambisa Moyo, describes it like this, “Aid has been, and continues to be, an unmitigated political, economic, and humanitarian disaster for most parts of the developing world.” (p. 96)

Lupton discovered this was not the answer many charitable organizations were looking for. He told audiences, “When we respond to a chronic need as though it were a crisis, we can predict toxic results: dependency, deception, disempowerment….  Exasperated, I asked, ‘Why do we persist in giving away food when we know it fosters dependency?’ ‘Because it’s easier! the attractive lady blurted out.’” (p. 56) He goes on to sadly conclude, “A hunger-free zone may be possible, but developing the dependency-free zone is the real challenge.” (p. 101)

He lost friends and supporters when he began to ask people whom he partnered with to take the hard route. Unfortunately they wanted easy and they wanted something that would make them feel instantly good about themselves and the work they do. 

And there it is. 

All too often, charitable activity can mask a desire to feel like “a really good person.” Building two-way relationships and doing the hard work of balancing mercy with justice, while closely following the prompting of the Holy Spirit, is too messy and takes too much time. Better to give away free food and regale others with your stories of helping out the less fortunate. Ouch!

He urges churches to focus on a geographic area and work to build relationships with the people in that community. Have a vision of what the area can look like and develop attainable goals and a road map to get there over an extended period of time. Years, not “service project days”. Move from Relief, to Rehabilitation, to Development. He then offers some practical advice for getting started.

One family, who had moved to an urban neighbor for the specific purpose of helping the people asked him where to begin. He told them to do nothing for 6 months. Just watch. Try to see what the real needs are. Identify assets the community already has. Meet with leaders who are already in place. Then start with small achievable goals. Build relationships and live life daily with the people. Be part of the community and not an outsider swooping in to save them. Even then, it’s not enough. This is exactly what he did. He moved into a neighborhood, raised his family there, established relationships, only to hear his neighbor and close friend remark one day, “I hate church vans.” He knew the reference was to a van that had just gone by full of outside kids ready to embark on a service project. Even though this neighbor had, himself been a recipient, he hated that way he felt being on the receiving end. This shocked Lupton. He realized he needed to think long and hard about what our charitable acts are actually accomplishing. 

Don’t we all. 

The Jungle by Upton Sinclair

I read The Jungle by Upton Sinclair because it is a classic and I feel a certain obligation to read it. I didn’t think I would like it. All I knew is that it was of the “muckraker” genre from the early 20th Century and it lambasted the meat-packing industry. Ironically, I discovered that going after the meat-packing industry as a muckraker was not Sinclair’s intention. Apparently, he intended to highlight the plight of the poor and immigrants in this country, but that got lost in his revelations about the work the central character does. I think the reason he didn’t fulfill his goal, was that his story seems unrealistic, even at the time. The story is such a haunting story of helplessness and despair, I think we can be forgiven for believing it is just a story and not the lived experience of the poor.

That being said, Sinclair opens in media res with a joyous scene taking place just after the wedding of two Lithuanian immigrants in a town just outside of Chicago. He wants us to feel the excitement and hope as the young couple embarks on a new journey together. This high forms a peak from which the lows can be measured, The ostensible leader of this ragtag group, Marija, is a strong, single woman who single-handedly takes it upon herself to make sure the group is well-taken care of. She barks orders and bends the will of those around her to do all she can to create a successful and joyous affair. Small, quiet and humble Ona has just married the gregarious Jurgis. He now sees himself as the man of the family and will do all he can to relieve Marija of the responsibility for the group, allowing her to have the life and family she dreams of. He’s strong, a hard worker, and a man of unfailing integrity and optimism. But the first chapter ends with a note of dire warning. The gifts from the guests are not enough to cover the expenses of the wedding and Ona may lose her job for having to take a day off work to get married. 

Soon, Jurgis gets a job in a slaughterhouse. He is excited for the opportunity to work and support his extended immigrant family as well as his new wife. Jurgis believes that as long as he is willing to work hard and sacrifice, bringing in an income will not be a problem. Sinclair lets us know right away that this will not be a dream job, but Jurgis is, for now, blind to the realities he will face. With their combined incomes, the family decides to move from an overpriced rented hovel, to a home they can purchase. Once again, Sinclair is heavy on the foreshadowing and the reader can easily infer this will not end well. 

Slowly, the immigrants begin to understand the realities of their jobs. The workers are taken advantage of. Injuries are not compensated and the worker usually loses his job after being hurt. They begin to sense they are trapped with no free will of their own to make their own way. The realities of homeownership also hit them hard. They discover that no one told them about interest on the loan they took out to pay for the house. Ona must return to work and the oldest child, Stanislovas must work as well. While Sinclair lets the struggling family have a moment of hope, the reader is not afforded that opportunity. We know this ends badly. 

If the conniving business owners and shady realtors aren’t enough, the weather conspires against our heroes. Jurgis’ father, Antony, dies a broken man, unable to find work, and unable to survive the cold. The run down home provides little shelter from the elements, and Jurgis begins to spend his hard earned money on alcohol to keep warm. 

Seeing how they are mistreated, for example only full hours worked are paid for, not partial hours, Jurgis and his family decide to form a union. He becomes an evangelical missionary for the cause, making a name for himself. Slowly the family comes to discover hardship after hardship in Packingtown. Disease is rampant. The food manufactures are only too happy to sell dangerous products to unsuspecting people. The politicians and the political bosses are thoroughly corrupt. There is nowhere to turn. No one can help. 

Eventually, Ona has a baby, but both she and the child are sickly. Marija loses her “good” job painting cans and is forced to take a job working in the meat industry. Again, more disgusting details are supplied of the way our food is produced. Jurgis falls at work and injures himself, costing his job as well. Another winter hits to further devastate the family. Jurgis falls into despair. He finally finds work in the worst possible place, the fertilizer factory. The stench seeps into his very being and forces him to become an outcast. The last one available to work, Elzbieta, goes to work in a sausage factory. Again, we don’t want to know how sausage is made. 

Jurgis continues to drink. Ona is pregnant again, and full of despair. We learn she has been sexually assaulted at work. Once Jurgis finds out and tries to kill the man, he is arrested and blacklisted. For a month, he agonizes in jail over the fate of his struggling family, who suffer terribly without him. He returns to find them homeless, relying on the kindness of neighbors. Ona goes into premature labor. Jurgis begs a midwife to help. The $25 fee is devastating, but he promises to pay. She and the child both die, and he turns even more to drink. 

Eventually Jurgis runs to Chicago to escape. A social worker lands him a job, but he learns that his first son, Antara, drowns in his absence. The children of Elzbieta are working in the streets and rarely return home. Feeling completely disconnected from what is left of the people he immigrated with, Jurgis takes off, living as a tramp, hitching rides on trains and doing odd jobs. He actually feels a bit of freedom and sees a different side of the country, but once again, winter looms. He returns to the city, finds work, but a broken arm has him out of the workforce again. He is desperate, out on the streets, begging. 

A criminal syndicate happens upon Jurgis and puts him to work. He enters the corrupt world of politics trying to gain spoils from the system. He had started off in America as a Republican, now he works for Democrats but both are equally corrupt. Eventually this lands him another job in a packinghouse. But when a strike breaks out, he continues to work as a “scab.” His union-supporting days are long gone. He sees the man who harassed his wife and beats him again. After getting out of jail, he looks up Marija. He finds her working in a whore house. Both are arrested when the police choose that particular time to do a raid. 

After being released, Jurgis finally finds his true calling. He stumbles into a meeting on Socialism. His eyes are opened. Finally the truth is revealed to him. A Socialist hotel owner offers him a job. Jurgis becomes an fired-up evangelist for Socialism. The story ends with big political gains for the Socialists in Chicago. 

I think because the book ends on such a propagandist note, whatever Sinclair’s argument was fails. He is clearly trying to persuade the reader of the need for Socialism and the horrific plight of the poor. Yet the actual effect of the book was to convince readers to reform the meat-packing industry. Why the disconnect? I believe it was because although his story portends to be a typical story of the working poor, people cannot relate. It simply does not comport with our lived reality. Of the 7 or 8 people who immigrated, two are dead, the children are running loose on the streets, one works as a prostitute, and one has a disgusting job. Only the enlightened, Socialist Jurgis is a “success.” This heavy-handed morality tale simply doesn't ring true. 

Sinclair paints all business owners and politicians with a very broad brush. All are corrupt. All are completely devoid of any morals. Only the Socialist care at all about their fellow man. He completely disregards reality. I kept wondering, “Why would a business sell food that kills its customers? Isn’t that bad for the bottom line?” “Why would a business owner so mistreat his employees? How long can he continue to find workers if he maims and kills them?” None of the actions taken by the evil corporations and politicians ring true. 

While Sinclair certainly creates a family that earns our sympathy, we really can’t relate. Their tale is ultimately foreign to the experiences of millions of immigrants. America is not the kind of country Sinclair believes it to be. Immigrants have struggled here, but most tend to do very well over time. Most do not end up dead or involved in criminal activity.  Further, his prescriptions are not what is best for America. 

The Man Who Would Not be Washington by Jonathan Horn

Horn begins his book on Robert E. Lee, The Man Who Would Not be Washington, with a strong assertion, “The connections between Washington and Lee are neither mystic nor manufactured. Lee was not the second coming of Washington, but he might have been had he chosen differently. As Washington was the man who would not be king, Lee was the man who would not be Washington. The story that emerges when viewed in this light is more complicated, more tragic, and more illuminating.” (p.6) Lee was perfectly positioned to be the heir of Washington. Yet he chose a different path. On the famous Mall in D.C., there is a straight line between the Lincoln Memorial, the Washington Monument, and the Capitol. Lee’s house in Arlington sits across the river, symbolically and literally removed from the path of liberty. He chose a different path. And that path shapes our nation to this day. 



The Lee and Washington families had intertwined for generations. Harry Lee, Robert’s father, was a revered revolutionary leader. But he eventually sunk into debt and ignominy. He had gotten involved in speculative land deals with Washington, but when the deals failed, Lee ended up deeply in debt to Washington. After various stints in jail, he lived out his days in a self-imposed exile in the Caribbean.

Harry suffered from a lack of self-control. “Harry succumbed to his worst impulses: speculating, swindling, and self-pitying.” (p. 29) His son would not make that mistake. “Robert learned to put others’ emotions before his own.” (p. 31) He developed a devotion to duty so lacking in his father. When he moved, with his struggling mother to Arlington from Alexandria, he got to know the Custis family. George Washington had adopted Martha Custis’ children. When her son proved unable to parent his children, George Washington adopted them as well. But his adopted son/grandson proved no match to Washington. So Washington left him the family heirlooms but Mount Vernon went to a cousin. However, George Washington Parke Custis had a daughter, Mary, who caught Robert’s eye. But Robert needed to make a living first. He applied to West Point. 

Lee had a naturally melancholy personality. His decision to subjugate his life to be the antithesis of his father drove him to a place of deep resignation. “Often Lee described himself as playing a role in a script beyond his control.” (p. 43) His religious awakening added to his sense of suffering in order to do the “right thing.” Eventually Robert and Mary married. Robert saw firsthand the deficiencies Washington had discovered in her father. It wasn’t long before Robert was basically running the estate from afar. He spoke to his father-in-law as one speaks to a child. Soon Mary had a son. Despite Robert’s preferences, the boy was named George Washington Custis Lee. Once again, Lee’s sense of duty would prevail over his desires. 

Lee fought in the Mexican-American War, earning for himself glory and a majestic stature. But when Mary’s father died and Robert inherited Arlington, he once again had to choose between duty and desire. He was a good and respected soldier, but the managing of Arlington called. In addition, he inherited Custis’ slaves. Some of them had roots going back to Washington. They were the descendants of the slaves Martha had brought into the marriage with her. Both Washington and Custis had wanted to free their slaves, but the logistics made it impossible. Now Custis had decided to set them free in his will with a complicated maneuver that threatened to bankrupt Lee. While personally opposed to slavery, he found himself fighting to keep his inherited slaves enslaved. Once again he found himself in a place where he felt forced to do what he didn’t want to do. 

When abolitionist John Brown stole George Washington’s sword from the great-nephew who had inherited it in order to attack Harper’s Ferry, Lee was once again sucked into the fray. Although he wanted to see slavery’s demise, “a soldier schooled to deny himself could not admire a fanatic egotistic enough to conflate he own wishes with God’s will.” Lee’s faith resigned him to accept things the way they were, assuming that was God’s way. He found it arrogant to question God’s timing saying, “While we see the course of the final abolition of human slavery is onward, & we give it the aid of our prayers & all justifiable means in our power, we must leave the progress as well as the result in his hands who sees the end; who chooses to work by slow influences…” Lee was no revolutionary like his son’s namesake.

As tensions between the North and South escalated, Lee did not seem particularly invested. But when the time came, Lee knew the “right” thing to do was to stick with his beloved state, right or wrong. This surprised his fellow officers because, having married into George Washington’s family the assumption was that he would follow Washington’s lead, valuing the union above all. While the South tried to claim the mantle of Washington, “[he] was one of us — a slaveholder and a planter. We have studied his history, and find nothing in it to justify submission to wrong…” (Calhoun p. 100), Lee knew Washington always intended a perpetual union. He would never have acceded to succession. It was clear to Lee that the Framers knew a union that could be dissolved at will by a member state was anarchy. He knew Virginia was wrong to leave the union, but he wanted no part of a union that had to be held together with the sword. And he would never draw his sword on his native state. Once again, his fatalism led him to do what he felt was his duty, defend his state. Although he opposed the decision, he felt events had made the decision for him. He would stand with Virginia. 

Immediately after making his stand, Lee abandoned Arlington. As it was so close to Washington D.C. he knew that it provided too tempting a target. When the first battle of the war took place at Manassas, Lee was there to lead the charge. Although he didn’t ever want to be in this position, once circumstances dictated his duty, he knew he must serve to the best of his ability. 

Soon after the war began, Lee was assigned Augustine Washington, the heir of Mount Vernon. Like Lee, he felt serving the South was his duty. How ironic that the first Lee had served Washington fighting for the United States. Now a Washington served Lee fighting for disunion. Unfortunately the hapless soldier died in a minor skirmish with the North. The forces of Washington had killed the heir of Washington while the man most positioned to take up Washington’s mantle led the charge. 

As the war raged, “Lee viewed the South’s problems as fatalistically as he viewed his own. God wanted to teach his countrymen the self-denial his mother had taught him. The times, he wrote, ‘look hard at present, & it is plain we have not suffered enough, labored enough, repented enough, to deserve success.’” (p. 148) He began to notice the complaints of his soldiers as they grumbled about the work required. Raised with slaves doing the hard labor, they felt it beneath them. Lee had no patience for this kind of prejudice. Yet as he defended Richmond, his fortunes began to turn. In fighting McClellan, the original home of George and Martha Washington, long dubbed the original White House, was accidentally burned to the ground by Union forces. This strategically and symbolically gave the South a boost as people reacted to these events. 

Lee decided his best chance was to go north and take the fight into Maryland. It was ironic that Lee had joined up with the Confederacy to defend his state and now took the offensive position. Yet he felt trapped by circumstances beyond his control. Ironically when he lost and had to cross back over the Potomac, Abraham Lincoln used that victory as an opportunity to free the Southern slaves with his Emancipation Proclamation. In another irony, Lee had just made the decision on his own to free his slaves after battling them for years over his father-in-law’s will. 

When Washington fought the Revolutionary War, he knew his best chance at victory was to preserve his army and wear down Britain’s will to fight such a distant war. Lee had no such option. He knew the longer the war dragged out, the better the odds of a Northern victory. Lee could see his forces being depleted, and as the Union broke through at Vicksburg, Lee urged his superiors to focus the fight in the East. But the war was beginning to take its toll on Lee. He suffered a devastating loss at Gettysburg and his health began to fail. The loss rattled him to his core. Was this God’s will? It wasn’t Lee’s will. He tried to resign his commission, taking responsibility for the failure. His fatalism began to be shaken as he saw some events were under his control. Yet his resignation was refused. To the South he had become what Harry Lee called Washington during the War of Independence, indispensable. 

Meanwhile, the United States government had passed a special tax on properties used for the insurrection. As Arlington was one of the first properties occupied by the Union forces, Lee had no ability to pay the tax. Even if he did, Congress required that he pay in person, nothing less than a surrender would result. He lost his beloved home, which was being used as a cemetery and hospital during the war. It would eventually be bought outright after a lawsuit by Lee’s family. As it became clear that the South was losing the war, Richmond’s most respected newspaper called for Lee to step up as a dictator. They compared him to Washington, calling Lee “the greatest of living captains.” (p. 218) Finally the war came to a close as Lee surrendered at Appomattox Courthouse. The author sums up with, “Lee had lost his family’s home. He had lost his wife’s inheritance… Despite all that Lee had done differently — despite all the discipline he had demonstrated from his childhood in Alexandria through his career ending at Appomattox — he had repeated his father’s fate. He was not a Washington. He was a Lee.” (p. 222) 

Lee was never really able to reconcile his support for the Union and Washington’s ideal with his support for the Confederacy. The closest he comes is saying, “True patriotism sometimes requires of men to act exactly contrary, at one period, to that which it does at another, and that the motive which impulse them — the desire to do right — is precisely the same.” He had struggled his whole life to “do the right thing” even while acknowledging it to be the wrong thing in the eyes of some. He struggled with the ambivalence his whole life. He never exactly said he regretted his decision, but he did say he felt he had no choice. The Founders had left the country unresolved on the issue of slavery, and his state had made the decision to succeed. He was just doing his duty in light of overwhelming circumstances out of his control. 

Hoping to boost their own fortunes, little Washington College in Virginia asked Lee to become their president. Such was his humility that rather than worry the small, dilapidated school was beneath him, he worried if he was worthy of it. Lee largely stayed out of politics and threw himself into revitalizing the college. Eventually the college was renamed Washington and Lee, perfectly encapsulating the intertwined lives of the two men. 

When it came time to begin construction of memorials on the Mall in D.C., Lee’s name was floated. The great-grandson of John Adams called him “brave, chivalrous, self-sacrificing, sincere, and patriotic,” saying if Lee was a traitor then Washington was one also. (p. 248) In what the author sees as perfect symbolism, the Lincoln Memorial stands where Lee’s would have. Lee inhabits the building across the Potomac at Arlington Cemetery. He stands on the wrong side. Had he followed his beliefs instead of his perceived duty, it could very well have been him staring at the Washington Memorial and the Capitol beyond, forever joined to his progenitor. Rather, he became, the man who would not be Washington. 

This author makes some fascinating assertions about history and humanity. He seems to believe that there is always a choice. Although Lee felt compelled by forces beyond his control, Horn definitely asserts that Lee always had a choice. He believes that humans are complicated and affected by myriad considerations, but at the end, we can choose our path. He presents Lee as a complicated, yet very real person. He is not the enemy, and he is not a hero. He is a man deeply conflicted, a natural leader, a gifted military strategist, yet unable to take control of his own destiny. He was offered the mantle of the greatest American. He willfully turned it down. I believe this author is using Lee’s life and choices to point out how often major events of history turn on a single individual. Nothing had to happen the way it did. Humans make their choices and history proceeds apace. 

The David Story - 1 & 2 Samuel; 1 Kings

The next book in Hillsdale's "Great Books 101" course was The David Story, with commentary by Robert Alter. Because I had read 1 & 2 Samuel as well as 1 & 2 Kings recently, I decided not to read the whole thing this time. I even considered not reading the excerpt provided by Hillsdale. But I am so glad I did. Robert Alter's commentary is brilliant and he gave incredible insight into David that I had never considered before.

He provides a stunning contrast between David and Uriah the Hittite. Starting with "the Hittite" designation. Uriah is an Israeli name, so he was probably not a foreigner, but for some reason, he is referred to in those terms. Meanwhile, David IS a quintessential Israeli. Yet it is Uriah who goes out to war, it is Uriah who fights, it is Uriah who eschews the temporal pleasures of home and wife. David does none of those, even enjoying Uriah's wife for himself. In addition, Alter states that there are hints that Uriah knew David had slept with his wife by their second conversation. When David asks why Uriah had stayed the night in the palace gate rather than go home as he hoped, Uriah throw back, "The Ark and Israel and Judah are sitting in huts, and my master Joab and my master's servants are encamped in the open field, and shall I then come to my house to eat and to drink and to lie with my wife? By your life, by your very life,  I will not do this thing." (p. 252-253) The comparison of himself to David is pretty obvious when seen in this light.

By the time he has Uriah killed, everyone knows what David is doing. Although Uriah gave the messenger an extra piece of information, Uriah the Hittite is dead, to deliver should David express anger at the battlefield reversal, the messenger leads with that tidbit. Everyone knew that was the point.

The story continues with the battle against Absalom. David, the father, counteracts what David the King should be doing. He orders his army to treat his rebellious son kindly. Of course his army commander Joab knows this is not how one deals with an insurrectionist. He has the trapped Absalom killed and berates David for his mourning the news.

The last vignette we are given of David is when he is old and feeble. What a contrast to the warrior and vital man of before. It contrasts with the David that called Uriah's wife to his bed. Now a beautiful young woman sleeps with him and all she is good for is warmth.


Discussion questions from the course:

1. Why is it important to understand the David story as not only a spiritual narrative, but also a literary masterpiece?
   When we analyze the piece as literature, we can see how word choices provide even greater insight into the story. We see how Bathsheba is contrasted with Abishag, the young girl brought into David's bed to warm him. We see how Nathan's story of the a lamb that ate with, drank with, and "laid in the lap of" a poor man contrasts with those very actions taken by David towards Bathsheba.
   
2. What is the significance of the image of David as a shepherd?
   David as a shepherd shows that he is a man with a destiny to care for and look after a people, much like he cared for and defended his sheep. He has clearly been taught how to provide leadership and these skills are required of him as he leads Israel. So when he fails, he cannot claim ignorance. The shepherd in his knows it is his duty to protect his people, but he falters when gives into his emotions.
   
   
3. Are the lessons of the David story still relevant today? Why or why not? Of course they are still relevant today. That's why the story is lasting. We too face our greatest temptations to avoid our duty when our emotions work counter to the call. 

Don Quixote by Miguel Cervantes

Our book club began on a whim with a call to read A Tale of Two Cities. After meeting to discuss that book, we decided to keep it up. The book we chose to read next was Don Quixote by Miguel Cervantes. This book is considered the first modern novel. Clocking in at over 900 pages, slogging through it became a tall order. Since it was originally written in Spanish, some of it does not translate well. The translator of my edition, J. M. Cohen, freely admits that although he did his best, the humor does not always come through.

One drawback to this book is that we are missing the context. Apparently Cervantes is reacting to the saturation of his society with really bad books. These other novels tell the fantastical tales of knights and their adventures. The protagonists are over-the-top charicatures and magical contrivances abound. It is into this environment that Cervantes introduces his hero, Don Quixote.

Cervantes writes his tale with an interesting self-awareness. He proclaims himself, not the author of the story, but simply more of an editor of a story he discovered. Using this device gives the adventure the patina of non-fiction. Cervantes is unsure of the hero's real name, but knows he is now called Don Quixote de la Mancha. The old man has become obsessed with the tales of knights errant and fancies himself a member of their community. To the distress of his housekeeper and neice, and his friends the priest and the barber, he sets off to defend the weak and helpless, all for the glory of his lady Dulcinea, whom he has never met, accompanied by a simple-minded villager, Sancho Panza, to whom he promises a governership. 

In his madness, he sees ordinary things transformed into castles and giants. Although Sancho is not similarly endowed with this ability, Quixote feels confident that his interpretation reflects reality. Together, they have many adventures battling "evil" and helping the helpless. None of these exploits actually end well, but in Don Quixote's mind, he is the bravest and most successful knight of the realm. By using this device, seeing both Don Quixote's mind and the reality, Cervantes is making it clear that it is all nonsense and worse. People are actually getting hurt, mostly Sancho, property is being damaged, and the outcomes leave much to be desired. 

Throughout the book, Don Quixote is urged to return home, return to sanity, and burn his abominable books. For a short time after a particularly bruising run-in with a band of merchants whom he mistakes for knights intent on battling him, he does just this. But the madness eventually overcomes him and he and the faithful Sancho return to the road. 

Once again, we find Don Quixote battling shepherds, sheep, innkeepers, and anyone else he chances to meet. Time and again he is disasterously defeated, but each time, he soldiers on, believing himself to be on a sacred mission. With the promise of a governership always before him, Sancho remains a part of the misconceived operation. After being tossed in a blanket in a particulary terrifying spectacle, Sancho makes a statement that seems to reveal why he stays, "... such misfortunes are difficult to prevent, and if they come there's nothing for it but to hunch your shoulders, hold your breath, close your eyes, and let yourself go where fate and the blanket send you." (p. 163)

This seems to be Don Quixote's guiding principle as well. "To go where fate and the blanket send you." Book 1 is full of story after story of misadventure, each full of cringe-inducing tales. It ends with Sancho Panza appealing to Quixote's friends, the priest and the barber, to trick the addled man into returning home. They eventually, through a complicated and contrived plot, kidnap him and return the bruised and defeated old man to his bed. 

The author ends the book with alledged references to his knight errant in ancient manuscripts. The way the author inserts himself into the story is fun trick to distance himself from his own story, offering a simple morality tale he "discovered" and delivers for our consideration.

Apparently Cervantes promised a second book after the success of the first. Yet during his eleven year hiatus, someone else took it upon himself to continue the story. Book 2 opens a month after the first ended with a recognition of the counterfeit book and Cervante's desire to set the record straight. Once again, such a self-aware book is a delight. He repeatedly refers to errors in the previous book as printer errors. In this he shows a bit of Don Quixote in himself - it is never his fault when things go sideways. In the intervening month, while Don Quixote recovered in bed, the first book has made him and his adventures famous. 

The second book takes advantage of this renown. Now Don Quixote is recognized when he, to the disappointment of those around him, returns to the road. A new character is introduced in the person of a scholar, what they call a bachelor. He is fascinated by Don Quixote's exploits, but sees the need to help the crazy, old man. A plan is hatched in which the bachelor will disguise himself as a famous knight. He will challenge Don Quixote in battle and with his inevitable defeat, Don Quixote will promise to return home and give up all efforts at chivalry. Unfortunately the plan goes awry when our hero defeats the "Knight of the Mirrors."

Don Quixote believes it is time to finally meet his Dulcinea. Sancho is supposed to have visited her earlier, so he is to lead his master to the object of love. But Sancho lied and has no idea who she is. When he points to a random, ugly peasant girl as the damsel, Don Quixote is convinced she's been bewitched by nefarious forces. For the rest of the book, he is obsessed with disenchanting her and returning her into the glorious visage of which he believes her to be. 

Returning to the road, Don Quixote chances upon some wealthy fans of his feats of derring, a local Duke and Duchess. They indulge his fantasies for their own entertainment. They create increasingly complex scenarios in which Don Quixote can prove his mettle. Unfortunately they know he's insane, and they toy with him as their personal entertainment. This leads to some cruelty as they devise painful and complicated ways for Don Quixote to relieve Dulcinea of her enchantment. 

To sweeten the incentive to proceed through their gauntlet, the Duke gives Sancho the long hoped-for governorship. But his lackeys work hard to make it a miserable commission for the simple-minded companion. Nonetheless, Panza's uncomplicated folk wisdom serves him well, and he does a surprisingly good job in his duties. Yet the toll it takes on him brings him no happiness, and he eventually renounces his position.

Following that debacle, Don Quixote and Sancho Panza leave the home of the Duke and Duchess for the road once again. Similar adventures as before befall them, ending with a duel with the famous "Knight of the White Moon." The bachelor has recovered from his previous defeat and has set up the same challenge. A defeat means Don Quixote must return home and renounce knight errantry. This time, Don Quixote is soundly conquered, and complies with his promise. 

Depressed, Don Quixote returns home, but not without a few more adventures along the way. He begins to dream of a simple shepherd's life. His friends indulge this hopeless delusion. 

Finally in the last chapter, Don Quixote recognizes the error of his ways. In a rare moment of clarity, he renounces the books and stories that led to his delusions. In preparing his will, he requires that his neice marry a man wholly unfamiliar with the detrimental tales. On the last page, he quietly succumbs to a life marred by misadventure and sadness knowing he wasted much of his time on earth. He dies in his bed.

Cervantes story is somewhere between a fable and a chronicle. On the one hand it is a fantastical tale, stretched beyond all credulity. On the other hand, he presents Don Quixote's story as a morality play, to exhort us not to fall into the same trap. So while he tries to a present a slightly fictionalized account of what COULD happen to one immersed in the silly novels of his day, it seems highly unlikely. 

I believe at the core, Don Quixote is searching for meaning. Like all mortals, we want to know we were placed on this earth for a purpose. Don Quixote's error is in assuming his purpose to be that of a knight errant. What is standing in his way is reality. He is not a knight errant. No one is. The stories of the day are make-believe. He never overcomes this obstacle because unfortunately, reality is a b-word. 

While I sympathize somewhat with Don Quixote, the reader is supposed to relate to the niece and friends of Don Quixote who love him and want him to return to sanity. It's unclear why they hold him so dear. He clearly doesn't care about their opinions. Because his actions lead to the abuse of his faithful squire, Sanchez Panza, it's hard to muster up the requisite sympathy for our knight. 

I believe Cervantes is making the argument that a life devoted to silliness is a life wasted. I think this is true. However, because Quixote doesn't learn his lesson until the very last pages of a 900-page book, I don't believe the message is adequately communicated. Instead the common takeaway is that of silly stories of a crazy man "tilting at windmills." Cervantes' novel becomes what he opposes — the silly, fantastical tale of a knight errant and his lady love. 

However, I think it is true that we all need purpose in life. I think it's also true that some waste their lives on meaninglessness. Sometimes the source is obvious, whether it's pleasure-seaking or fame. But sometimes it's less obvious. We can waste our lives on things that seem to have value but often are just at ephemeral and meaningless, and ultimately, worthless. I think of those who seek to do good and in reality hurt their own cause. Women who march in disjointed "women's marches" declaiming non-existent oppression waste valuable time and resources. Saving the planet gives many that sense of meaning they crave, but it's a fool's errand. Many of these kinds of focuses provide, not meaning and true purpose, but a false idol.

I believe our ultimate purpose is to glorify God in whatever position He has placed us. In my case, I am a wife and mother. My job is to work at those tasks to the best of my abilities. Supporting my husband and raising my children glorifies God as I follow His Word in carrying out my duties. I have no need for an alternate purpose, no need to save the planet or fight for ephemeral "justice." I put my trust in Him and ask my family to do the same. 

The Aeneid by Virgil

The next "Great Book" in the Hillsdale "Great Books 101" course was the Aeneid by Virgil. While reading this, I followed Susan Wise Bauer's directions in The Well Educated Mind.

Grammar Stage:

Cast of main characters:
Juno - wife of Zeus. Loves Carthage and already hates those who will someday destroy it.
Aeneas - the hero. Son of Venus. Already bemoaning his fate, wishing he had died at Troy.
Achates - Aeneas’ best friend and right-hand man.
Dido - widow queen of Carthage who welcomes Aeneas and his men to Carthage
Ascanius - Aeneas’ son and only heir
Creusa - Aeneas’ wife who dies trying to leave Troy as it falls.
Anchises - Aeneas’ father whom he rescues from Troy, only to see him die on their journey.
King Latinus - king of the Latins, father to Lavinia
Lavinia - daughter of Latinus. Was not to be wed to a Latin.
King Evander - King of Arcadia. Offspring of Troy. Friend of Anchises. Son is Pallas

Aeneas knows the plans fate has in store for him. While running from the fallen Troy, he tells his men, “Through so many crises and calamities we make for Latium, where fates have promised a peaceful settlement. It is decreed that there the realm of Troy will rise again.” (Bk. I, 284). Yet he is knocked off course and washes up on the shores of Carthage with his men. Queen Dido welcomes him. At Venus’ urging, Cupid shoots her with an arrow to make her fall madly in love with him. She does this to protect her son, Aeneas, from any harm Dido might have in store for him.

At Dido’s urging, Aeneas tells the story of their woe. A young Greek was left behind, apparently rejected by his fellow Greeks. He tells the Trojans to take the giant wooden horse into their town and offer it to the gods. Once inside, the warriors hidden in its belly attack. Aeneas fights, but finally, resigned to the fall, rescues his father, son and wife. But she gets separated on the way out and killed. He joins up with other refugees, and they make their way to safety.

Aeneas tells Dido of the many adventures they had prior to coming to Carthage. He includes his visit with Andromache and Helenus. They try to convince him to stay in their refashioned version of Troy. But he knows he is destined for Latium. Right as he reaches Carthage, his father dies aboard their ship. He is blindsided by the death of Anchises.

Aeneas soon weds Dido and begins to make a home in Carthage. But Mercury is sent to remind him of his fate. “Are you now laying the foundation of high Carthage, as a servant to a woman, building her a splendid city here? Are you forgetful of what is your own kingdom, your own fate?” (Bk. IV, 353). Repentant, he feels compelled to to take his ships and men and set sail for Latium. Upon hearing this, Dido soon kills herself. She curses his city-to-be, setting up the eternal conflict between Rome and Carthage.

On their way, they make a stop on Sicily. There, Aeneas’ father has been buried for the last year. They use the anniversary of his death to celebrate the funeral games. After this time of celebration, they set off once again for Latium. But Aeneas pilot is knocked into the sea and drowns. Nevertheless, they make it to Italy, but he feels this is a bad omen.

Once they reach the land, a prophetess tells Aeneas, “O you who are done, at last, with those great dangers that lie upon the sea — worse wait on land — the sons of Dardanus [Trojans] will reach Lavinium’s kingdom (for you can now be sure of that) and yet shall wish that they had never come. I see wars, horrid wars, the Tiber foaming with much blood… Nor will Juno fail anywhere to hound the Teucrians [Trojans], while you, a beggar in your need, implore the towns, the tribes through all of Italy!” (Bk. VI, 117) Aeneas takes this opportunity with an immortal to ask for a chance to visit his father in the underworld. Anchises meets him there and tells him of his great progeny-to-be, including Caesar.

Aeneas then arrives at the kingdom of King Latinus. He makes an easy peace with him. Latinus at once recognizes that this is the foreigner his daughter is destined to wed. But Juno is determined to make Aeneas life a hard one. Recognizing that she cannot stop fate, she says, “I cannot keep him from the Latin kingdoms: so be it, let Lavinia be his wife, as fates have fixed. But I can still hold off that moment and delay these great events, can still strike down the nations of both kings. Then let the son- and father-in-law pay for peace with their own people’s death. Virgin, your dowry will be Latin blood…” (Bk. Vii, 414). She stirs up the original suitor, Turnus, to make war with Aeneas.

Aeneas leaves his men to guard their camp and ships while he goes off to find allies. He approaches King Evander of Arcadia, a friend of his father’s, to ask for help. The king sends his army, headed by his beloved son, Pallas. Meanwhile, Aeneas’ mother, Venus, has her husband, Volcan form armor for Aeneas. On it, Volcan fashions the story of what would become Rome, thereby restating the prophecy  given many times over of Aeneas destiny.

With Aeneas away, Turnus decides to attack the camp. He is able to kill many of Aeneas’ men before Aeneas can return. Once he arrives, he furiously battles back Turnus’ forces, killing many in the process. King Evander’s son, Pallas, is killed by Turnus at this time. Finally, Turnus is lured away by a goddess and escapes the carnage.

Turnus returns and will not admit defeat. He teams up with Diana’s favorite, Camilla, and they go to war once again. After she dies and his forces are routed, he meets up with Aeneas and they decide to settle their fight one-on-one.

King Latinus knows that battling Aeneas was always a mistake. He tells Turnus, “It was not right for me to give my daughter to any of her former suitors; all — both gods and men — had told us this. And yet, too overcome by love for you, by our related blood, and by my sad wife’s tears, I broke all of these curbs; I snatched my daughter back from her promised husband; I took up unholy arms. For Turnus, you see what disasters hunt me down from that day on, what evils you, above all, had to suffer. Twice-beaten in great battles, we can hardly keep Italy’s hopes safe within our city; and even now our blood still warms the Tiber; the giant plains are still white with our bones.” (Bk. XII, 36). And he begs Turnus not to face Aeneas. He is ready to sue for peace and give his promised daughter to Aeneas.

But Turnus will not turn back. As Jupiter and Juno look on, they begin to reconcile over the fight they had had over Aeneas’ fate. He tells his wife, “… the Ausonians [Italians] will keep their homeland’s words and ways; their name will stay; the body of the Teucrians [Trojans] will merge with Latins, and their name will fall away. But I shall add their rituals and customs to the Ausonians’, and make them all — and with one language — Latins. You will see a race arise from this that, mingled with the blood of the Ausonians, will be past men, even past gods, in piety; no other nation will pay you such honor.” (Bk. XII, 1106). Jupiter's compromise with his wife is to erase from memory the culture and heritage of the Trojans, rising them up us as Romans instead. This way, it is not the Trojans who become famous for their empire.

Although they are supposed to battle only each other, their friends jump into the fray. Finally Aeneas corners Turnus. He almost offers him mercy, but he sees poor Pallas' belt on Turnus as a trophy of war. Furious, Aeneas brutally kills Turnus. 

Logic Stage:

This novel is a fable. It tells of a mystical beginning to the Roman Empire playing on the demise of Troy after the Trojan War. The intent was to create a mythical beginning in order to give the newly forming Roman Empire a link to Ancient Greece. In addition, it was written to tie Augustus to the “founder” Aeneas. It is a cautionary tale as well as a moral tale. It was written to help guide Augustus as he set out to re-found the Roman people. Virgil wanted to show him as a man on a mission against all odds who would not be sidetracked or delayed by diversions. Aeneas was pious and faithful even when it would have been easy to give up. But he had to be careful not to let his bloodlust overtake him. 

The central character Aeneas just wants a new home for his family and his people. His old Troy has been destroyed. His wife is dead. He has managed to save his son, but his father has died along the journey as well. He want to settle and recreate the glory that was Troy. The biggest thing initially standing in his way was the temptation to settle for less than the gods had promised. He could live in the “Little Troy” built by Andromache and Helenus, or he could marry Dido of Carthage and make that his home. But he knew his destiny was the Italian coast. Breaking Dido’s heart, he departs towards his destiny. Once there, he face a brutal battle waged by the former suitor of his betrothed, Turnus. He did not give up, but warred brilliantly, eventually killing Turnus in a cold-blooded act of revenge.

Usually a narrator of some sort is telling the story, but occasionally the epic lapses into first-person when Aeneas tells his story to others. It is unclear whether the narrator got his information from those on the journey. He seems to be somewhat omniscient because he knows what the gods are saying and doing and their motivations.  The tale is set on the Mediterranean between Troy, Carthage, and Rome, as well as the surrounding islands. The writer uses complex sentences and archaic language as he is purposely mimicking Homer’s Odyssey and the Iliad. He uses very descriptive language because in copying Homer, the story is assumed to be told aloud. Therefore it would included many descriptive passages that set the scene and the mood and tone of the story. He also references many related stories and characters because one of the main points is to tie Rome to Greece. Therefore he needs to reference the ancient Greeks. Flames are a recurring image and metaphor. Troy is burning. Dido kills herself on a fire and Aeneas sees it as he is sailing away. I think it recalls a type of madness and out of control emotions. All Aeneas dreams can go up in flames if he is not careful to continue to be pious and follow the dictates of the gods.

The story begins in media res with a note about Aeneas sailing on the sea. "I sing of arms and of a man: his fate had made him fugitive; he was the first to journey from the coasts of Troy as far as Italy and the Lavinian shores. Across the lands and waters he was battered beneath the violence of High Ones..." (Bk. I, 1-6) We are not given a lot of information about him or how he got there, but are instantly treated to Juno’s wrath with him. I believe it starts like this because Virgil is telling the tale as a bit of an allegory for Augustus who is also starting in media res when it comes to the Roman Empire. Augustus is similarly floating towards an unknown destination with an unknown ending. Because Virgil died before he considered the book complete we are not sure how he intended to end it. That being said, he ends it with Aeneas violently killing his rival Turnus, despite his pleas for mercy. 

Rhetoric Stage:

I sympathize with Aeneas. He is clearly a good man trying to find a home for himself and his family. He is desperate to build something but is tempted to take the easy way out and rest on other’s accomplishments. Yet he is driven by fate in a way I don’t feel. I’m a strong believer in free will. I believe there is a plan for our lives, but I believe it intersects with free will in a way that is impossible to explain. Virgil clearly implies that for Aeneas to rest with Andromache and Helenus or Dido would have been a “sin” and going against the prophecy of fate over him. I don’t believe the plan for our lives works like that. I think as we exercise our free will, we naturally move in a direction we are called to. I believe God makes use of our gifts and talents and desires to lead us towards a destination He has planned for us. 

Virgil sees the human condition as man guided by forces far beyond his control, and yet he has free will. He can NOT do what he has been predestined to do. But that will result in horrific consequences. On the other hand, being pious is no recipe for peace and prosperity. There is simply too much going on that we have no part in. Yet the job of humans is to do what they know is the right thing to do despite the consequences. It is the exact opposite of a utilitarian belief. Good is not the goal. Nor is happiness. The goal is to please the gods and do the “right” thing as they have laid out.

Because it ends so abruptly I don’t see it as self-reflective. I think it is supposed to be. Clearly Augustus was supposed to compare himself to Aeneas, but it ends in a brutal murder. I don’t believe this was Virgil’s advice to the emperor. I think he wanted the reader to see where Aeneas was tempted to defy the gods and give up on his destined mission. I think Virgil wants us to similarly press on through difficult decisions and circumstances, constantly pushing forward towards our destiny. But the unfinished poem does not allow us to see if Aeneas ultimately succeeded.

The time in which the author is writing absolutely impacts him and his story. He is writing to influence an Emperor. There is no need to construct a mythical beginning of Rome except to allegorize their current situation.

 The argument in this book is that there is a right way to live, and it may at times be very hard to stay on that path. There will be twists and turns and temptations and bitterly disappointing setbacks, but we must push forward nonetheless. I think this is true to a point. We do not all have a clearly spelled out destination before us. But it is true that life offers many twists, turns, and temptations to distract us from what we know the right thing to do is. We are often dealt devastating setbacks and, like Aeneas, we must push on. But towards what is not as clear as it was with Aeneas.

Discussion questions from the course:

1. How does Aeneas’s romance with Dido illustrate the idea that private acts can have public consequences?
   While Aeneas private act of a marriage with Dido seems to be his own business, his decision meant all those following him would remain in Carthage, never to create their own glorious homeland. In addition, Aeneas giving his love to Dido tied her to him in such a powerful way that upon his departure, she kills herself. She feels unbearably guilty for betraying her vow to her dead husband. This also impacts her sister who is last seen in deep mourning for Dido.
2. In what ways does the Aeneid show Aeneas overcoming personal loss and doing his public duty?
   Even though he has lost Troy, his wife, his father, his opportunity to settle in "Little Troy", and Dido, Aeneas presses on. He feels he must. He has no choice to follow the dictates of the gods.
   
   
3. What lessons does the Aeneid have to teach us today?
   We, too, must do the right thing despite some of the consequences. We must not be turned by the temptations to give up or settle. We must move on towards the plan for our lives. To settle is to potentially hurt others and deny them the plan for their lives.