Update: 12/13/2010

Unfortunately there will not be an official book club until Jan. 8th. So we decided to read a few books over the break, The Stranger, Benito Cereno, and As I Lay Dying. I hope everyone has a good Christmas!

The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde

"The real stab of the story is not in the discovery that the one man is two men; but in the discovery that the two men are one man. After all the diverse wandering and warring of those two incompatible beings, there was still one man born and only one man buried."

~ G.K. Chesterton

Checking In

I've missed at least one meeting and can't remember which weeks we meet. The Herrings will be up in Humboldt this weekend checking out the school, so I fear I will be missing yet another meeting. I've finish the Abolition of Man and am almost done with Don Quixote. I've purchased Housekeeping, but I see that the Old Man and the Sea is on deck. I'll have to grab a copy of that locally. Please let me know if the order of books has changed, and I'll catch up with you all shortly.

Brethren. Since as an ex-member of the MBC I often still long for the blood and vigor of the intellectual octagon: Hitman's crushing blindsides, the JJ's jujitsu holds, Jared's impenetrable defense, Herringmeister's crushing strategems, Towner channeling Colbert, Grandberg dipping in and out like a ghost, I wanted to pass along one last book recommendation, even if at this point my vote is effectively an empty boast. "Cadillac Desert" by Marc Reisner is something I enjoyed some years ago - it's non-fiction examination of the United States' history of water allocation and redistribution, and though it probably suffers from the political lean of its author (this may be accepted into the canon of the liberal gospel), it nevertheless is a strange story of money and power and hyper-engineering that spooks and bedazzles. But God be with you lads. Until, etc.

Back on Track!

Hey guys,
Just wanted to drop a line on our blog and make sure we were all alive still. It was quite an accomplishment to have finished Don Quixote, but I must say I am quite glad to be back from the land of Errantry and Enchantments. C.S. Lewis is a great writer, but I don't think I have ever craved him as much as I do now. Looking forward to having those engaging conversations again. It's been too long.

Place of meeting!!!

I talked to Jordan yesterday and it seems that he is interested in trying the Starbucks on Stony Point at the corner of Sebastopol Rd. So, that is where we will plan on meeting, unless, of course it is also enchanted, in which case, we should just drive to the hills of Oakland where there are some wind mill... I mean Giants that must be eliminated. Sorry, David for not getting this out sooner. If you don't know where this Starbucks is, you can call me, but it is right on the corner of Stony Point and Sebastopol Rd. in the new shopping center to the left. See ya tomorrow!!

Place of Meeting

Since we lost our old location due to the inconsiderate actions of corporate America, where will we meet?

Don Quixote

I just received my copy of Don Quixote. Wow, the thing is huge! I believe OSHA has determined that it should be a two-man lift.

Two Year BBQ

Hey Guys,

Jordan and I were talking about having a party to celebrate our second year of book club. What dates would work best for you guys. We were thinking about some time in June, probably a weekend. We also thought that we would invite significant others and children. Let us know what would work best.

Thanks
Jared

P.S. I think we should read the Edith Grossman translation of Don Quixote

Just some thoughts...

I just wanted to say how much I value book club. Not to say that I value it more than anyone else, because I don't. It just means the world to me, that's all. To be able to discuss works of art like we do, in such a real, honest format is beautiful to me and so important. I crave the honest conversations with people who understand life and are willing to listen and express that understanding no matter what. I guess it is just one of the small aspects of my life that means the world, literally. I think of myself as a huge collosal fuck up and it's hard to be open and honest with people when you never know how they are going to respond. Truthfully, I love the books were reading alot, but I love the time spent together more. Also to be honest, I may be a bit drunk, but I've always been a believer that the feelings are always there, the liquor just helps release it easier. Anyway, I just want to say how glad I am to be apart of something special. As we come closer to July where we will have been a club for officially two years, I feel excited, rejuvenated that the future holds exciting things. It has been such a joy thus far, and I just want to convey how important you all are to me. I remember when Jordan was talking about reading a book called "Money and Power" and how he thought it would be cool to read it collectively and discuss our different thoughts on it. Little did we know that it would spawn a desire to not only read some of the greatest works man has conceived, but to discuss them together as a group that is brought together by our love for each other and for the pursuit of truth. I never knew books could enrich my life as much as they have. But what started as a cool idea has become something of vast importance to my life. So I just want to say thank you to you all. And thank you to you, Jordan, for sparking a collective endeavor to not only engage these works of art, but also engage each other in conversations so meaningful to our lives. Love you guys!!!

Who's on deck??

Hey guys. It has occurred to me that we never settled on an "on-deck" selection. Now I know that some of you may not see this as such a pressing issue, considering East of Eden's length, but I find that I sleep a little better at night knowing what's on the horizon. Call it a weakness if you must, I have many. But when the batter is up, he's got two strikes on him and sweat is pouring down his face, the pressure is on. As he steps out of the batter's box, he takes a deep breath and stands back in confident and ready. Why? Because he saw he was not alone. He saw his teammate there, ready to follow him up. He saw who was on deck!!
So, that being said, I've heard whispers of Thomas Kuhn as well The Aneid. I probably would lean a little towards The Aneid, but either one sounds good. Does anyone else have any other suggestions? Let's get this thing solved guys. The circle is empty, begging to be filled. Peace of mind is just around the corner. All we need to know is who's on deck.

Un-Book Related

I’ve started to blog again. It’s nothing profound or penetrating. I just uploaded some photos of the Electric Upright Bass that I’ve been building. Check it out!

http://herringmeisterlist.blogspot.com/

Hey all,
I thought this looked like an interesting book. R. Crumb illustrated the book of Genesis leaving nothing out and nothing to the imagination. One reviewer said that it changed his perspective on some of what happens in Genesis by seeing the images of what took place. Of course this novel is a "graphic novel" in more ways than one but that's the bible for ya always upsetting people and especially Christians. It might be something to look into or add to a list of possible books to read.

Of Dust and Nations

My first post on our little blog, so bear with me. I'd like to start by saying I miss you all! I apologize for not making it to the last few meetings; my plans are continually thwarted by illness, lack of sleep, and other matters which refuse to be ignored. I figure the next best thing is to have stimulating conversation within the confines of this page, in keeping with the last few posts.

That being said, I'd like to share 2 of my favorite poems. The first is very well known: "Ozymandias" by Percy Bysshe Shelley.

.

I met a traveller from an antique land

Who said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stone

Stand in the desert. Near them, on the sand,

Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown

And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command

Tell that its sculptor well those passions read

Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,

The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed.

And on the pedestal these words appear:

"My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:

Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!"

Nothing beside remains. Round the decay

Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare

The lone and level sands stretch far away.

.

The 2nd was published a month later by Shelley's pal Horace Smith, with the catchy title "On A Stupendous Leg of Granite, Discovered Standing by Itself in the Deserts of Egypt, with the Inscription Inserted Below."

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In Egypt's sandy silence, all alone,

Stands a gigantic Leg, which far off throws

The only shadow that the Desert knows:

"I am great OZYMANDIAS," saith the stone,

"The King of Kings; this mighty City shows

The wonders of my hand." The City's gone,

Nought but the Leg remaining to disclose

The site of this forgotten Babylon.

We wonder, and some Hunter may express

Wonder like ours, when thro' the wilderness

Where London stood, holding the Wolf in chace,

He meets some fragments huge, and stops to guess

What powerful but unrecorded race

Once dwelt in that annihilated place.

.

While reading these, we are reminded of the futility of the world. James puts it similarly James 1:10.... "But the one who is rich should take pride in his low position, because he will pass away like a wild flower. For the sun rises with scorching heat and withers the plant; its blossom falls and its beauty is destroyed. In the same way, the rich man will fade away even while he goes about his business."

.

On the other hand, we do have a legacy of relationships. Those are really the only things that last. Let those not be found "in decay", or as a "colossal wreck, boundless and bare". Rather, let us bear with one another in love, and build up that which lasts. Hope to see you all soon.

The Power of Words

I was recently watching the 1973 Hanna-Barbera cartoon version of E.B. White's Charlotte’s Web and was struck by it's illustration of how words effect the world. Charlotte writes the words "some pig" above an "average everyday" pig. By virtue of Charlotte’s words people begin to look deeper into the kind of pig Wilbur is. In a similar vain I love the way Christ speaks over us. He takes us from amidst the masses and speaks over us and calls us God's children (his banner over us is love). Poythress is right. We cannot escape a world constructed through language because our world was constructed through language. We can only seek to speak in line with the one who spoke it into being.

Hope you men are well, Christians all.
Please forgive my lapses of friendship and common kindness,
often I forget the calling and election and default to self,
and I wear shame like a wardrobe.

Anyhow, here's a few words from Virgil,
translated, but powerful.

Virgil from Georgics I

Who dares deny the burning truth of the sun?
When Caesar was destroyed, the sun was black.
At midday, in a cloudless sky, black!
It warns us of all manner of uprisings—
of wind, of rain, of hail, and of humankind,
for views of the mind change, and the heart conceives
new emotions.

The earth shook and the sea
shuddered in its bed. It was dark at noon,
and many feared that the darkness would last forever
when Caesar died. The sun had shown it all.
Dogs had howled, and birds had chattered and cried,
and mighty Etna’s furnace had boiled up
to answer fire with fire, to turn black rocks
white hot, and melt them runny as rain.
In Germany thunder rolled as if to recall
the clash of an army’s weapons – Caesar’s own.
The Alps shook as with an army’s marching.
There were voices singing out of groves of trees.
Pale ghosts shimmered in the peculiar light.
Cattle spoke. Humans were struck dumb.
Rivers stood still. Plains yawned to chasms.
In the temples, ivory wept and hard bronze
broke into sweat. The Po overflowed its banks
and pretended to farm – herding cattle to death,
and harvesting woods and fields in a labor of rage.
The other omens were awful: wells flowed blood;
wolves howled in the cloudless sky; comets blazed.
Feel it aright, and a man could feel Phillipi,
the clang of Roman sword upon Roman sword,
the pools of our blood flowing back together
on the Macedonian plain, and at last the farmer
(always the farmer, first and last the farmer)
driving his curved plow to till the earth
and finding the Roman javelins covered with rust,
and digging with his shovel and striking a helmet.
Wonder at the white bones in the earth,
and feel in your own bones the sun’s fire,
the fire of life itself.

Hail, Caesar!
May the gods allow Caesar, our new Caesar,
to right this overturned time. We have atoned
for old Troy’s sins, and with more blood
than Troy ever spilled.


I feel the dread,
and the sun burns in me, burns like a fever.
The world is full of war, and at home, crime
resembles a war. Men flock to the city
leaving their fields to weeds, their tools to rust.
Plowshares now are beaten into swords.
It’s bad in Asia, bad in Europe, bad . . .
No treaties hold, no laws hold, nothing
but Mars, blood red . . . He holds it all,
hurtling through the sky in his chariot.
I feel those wheels rumble. I feel the sway
of speed. The horses are mad and running faster.
They ought to check. They ought to answer the reins.
There ought to be reins.

But there are none.




translation: David R. Slavitt