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Post 0

Monday, July 28 - 11:49pmSanction this postReply
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Great food for thought.... but it tears in different directions and confuses me as a whole.  It doesn't seem to be a whole when I peer closely. 

"Criminals" needs its meaning nailed to the floor - is it those who violate criminal law (that would account for burglars and bigamists), or is it less literal so as to include those who put forth ideas that when accepted, cause harm to our culture (bad philosophers)? 

The imperial "we," in context, is probably an appropriate literary device, but here, by itself in a quote, it asks me to be a snob who should be giving up his snobbery and joining in the judgement on "criminals" - but, who are they again? 

And now that I've slowed down my pace, so that I look at each word and phrase... it almost appears that education is under indictment but without any clarity on the bad versus good of education.  Hmmm, this man is a master pot-stirrer.  However he wins back large parts of my heart and mind with his indictment of modern philosophy - but that alone, standing naked, is only my partisan reaction.

And then, like the tiny itch I imagine a crawling nit might make, I frown at lumping the burglar with the bigamist - Hey, if adults choose to formalize relationships with more than one partner, more power to them.  But I have no affection for a burglar.

In context, all my questions might be answered and maybe these disparate threads unite in a unified theme.  But alone as a quote, I'm not fond of it (despite my liking for this man's intellectual complexity and literary skills.)




Post 1

Tuesday, July 29 - 12:06amSanction this postReply
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Chesterton was one of the most erudite of men. He certainly was not criticizing good education. Within the context of his thought it is quite obvious that he is being poetic - by criminal philosopher he means philosopher whose relativist or anarchic teachings advocate or excuse crime, not a pocket picking positivist. The book from which it is taken is a study in the anarchist psychology. The book does have its flaws, and quite significant ones. But it also has some of the most striking dialog you'll ever read.

Bigamy, however, is a crime in so far as it is a fraud. Open polygamy and secret bigamy are two far different things.



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Post 2

Tuesday, July 29 - 12:44amSanction this postReply
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Thanks, Ted.  Overall, I like what the passage of time is doing for my intellectual functioning, but every now and then... sigh.  Bigamy, polygamy, duh!  I KNOW that distinction, why does some part of brain decide to go to sleep when its job was to notice my mistake before I hit the 'Post' button?

I love his dialog.  Like the anarchist, saying, "The silly sentimentalists of the French Revolution talked about the Rights of Man! We hate rights and we hate wrongs. We have abolished right and wrong." (from your link)

He seems to me to be a great bull of a man, intellectually while still being incredibly light on his feet - and fast.  And a rebel who makes his own rules - that sense of him lurks behind the erudition and eloquence.  I feel a wicked sense of delight when he gores someone elses ox, but am wary of him in coming into my china shop.  I feel he has a bit of the anarchist in him - not in his beliefs but just a taste of it in his style.

My picky, linear look at the quote was only as a quote - not in the context of the novel where the poetic effect would be part of a whole and not make me feel a little edgy.




Post 3

Tuesday, July 29 - 1:34amSanction this postReply
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Defensor Fidei


Chesterton is an explicit Christian, although he identifies his religion with reason, and argues for faith as necessary and reasonable. A youthful protestant atheist, he famously made the liquor flow in the Vatican when he publicly converted to Thomistic Catholicism, and after hois death was rewarded with the posthumous title "Defender of the Faith" - a gibe at the claims of post-Henry VIII British Royalty.

Chesterton was a vocal critic of what he called capitalism, which he identified as control of the government by corporate interests. He did not advocate outright appropriation of wealth, but he called himself a distributist, by which he meant that he saw small businesses and small homesteads as an ideal. How to obtain that ideal was always quite vague.

Chesterton was a vocal opponent of what he called egoism and which he identified with petty materialist self-seeking.

But Chesterton was a critic, not a philosopher. He espoused no real system (other than that of the Church, which was then largely liberal) and at that time classical liberalism in England was dead. Chesterton had been an outspoken Liberal, he famously called himself the last of the Liberals. He was on the right side of the Boer War - against it - and on the right side of the Great War - against Germany. His biggest foes were relativism, anarchism, relativism, racism, relativism, ignorance, relativism, dictatorship, skepticism and relativism. His most eloquent arguments were raised to counter those foes. His positive arguments in favor of faith and tradition fall flat. He is a foe of the little mistakes - the narrow fads - the philosophical fallacies of his day which are the same follies as our day. He has to be read with charity and a grain of salt. Rand would have excoriated him, for all the obvious flaws. If reading Rand is like scaling a sky scraper built among huts then reading him is like walking out of a pig sty and into a cathedral.

(Why do these men have such guilty expressions?)


(Edited by Ted Keer on 7/29, 3:39pm)




Post 4

Thursday, July 31 - 1:53amSanction this postReply
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The opening of Man Alive:

A wind sprang high in the west, like a wave of unreasonable happiness,
and tore eastward across England, trailing with it the frosty
scent of forests and the cold intoxication of the sea.
In a million holes and corners it refreshed a man like a flagon,
and astonished him like a blow. In the inmost chambers of
intricate and embowered houses it woke like a domestic explosion,
littering the floor with some professor's papers till they seemed
as precious as fugitive, or blowing out the candle by which a
boy read "Treasure Island" and wrapping him in roaring dark.
But everywhere it bore drama into undramatic lives,
and carried the trump of crisis across the world.
Many a harassed mother in a mean backyard had looked at
a five dwarfish shirts on the clothes-line as at some small,
sick tragedy; it was as if she had hanged her five children.
The wind came, and they were full and kicking as if five fat
imps had sprung into them; and far down in her oppressed
subconscious she half-remembered those coarse comedies of her
fathers when the elves still dwelt in the homes of men.
Many an unnoticed girl in a dank walled garden had tossed
herself into the hammock with the same intolerant gesture
with which she might have tossed herself into the Thames;
and that wind rent the waving wall of woods and lifted
the hammock like a balloon, and showed her shapes of quaint
clouds far beyond, and pictures of bright villages far below,
as if she rode heaven in a fairy boat. Many a dusty clerk
or cleric, plodding a telescopic road of poplars, thought for
the hundredth time that they were like the plumes of a hearse;
when this invisible energy caught and swung and clashed them
round his head like a wreath or salutation of seraphic wings.
There was in it something more inspired and authoritative even
than the old wind of the proverb; for this was the good wind
that blows nobody harm.




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