Epigraph to The Plague

It is as reasonable to represent one kind of imprisonment by another, as it is to represent anything that really exists by that which exists not." –Daniel Defoe (Robinson Crusoe)

In literature, an epigraph is a phrase, quotation, or poem that is set at the beginning of a document or component.[1] The epigraph may serve as a preface, as a summary, as a counter-example, or to link the work to a wider literary canon,[2] either to invite comparison or to enlist a conventional context.



Daniel Defoe (/ˌdænjəl dɨˈfoʊ/; c. 1660 – 24 April 1731),[1] born Daniel Foe, was an English trader, writer, journalist, pamphleteer, and spy, now most famous for his novel Robinson Crusoe. Defoe is notable for being one of the earliest proponents of the novel, as he helped to popularise the form in Britain, and, along with others such as Samuel Richardson, is among the founders of the English novel. A prolific and versatile writer, he wrote more than 500 books, pamphlets and journals on various topics (including politics, crime, religion, marriage, psychology and the supernatural). He was also a pioneer of economic journalism.

A Journal of the Plague Year by Daniel Defoe 1722

A Journal of the Plague Year is a novel by Daniel Defoe, 1660-1731, first published in March 1722.

The novel is a fictionalised account of one man's experiences of the year 1665, in which the Great Plague struck the city of London. The book is told roughly chronologically, though without sections or chapter headings.

Although it purports to have been written only a few years after the event, it actually was written in the years just prior to the book's first publication in March 1722. Defoe was only five years old in 1665, and the book itself was published under the initials H. F. The novel probably was based on the journals of Defoe's uncle, Henry Foe.

In the book, Defoe goes to great pains to achieve an effect of verisimilitude, identifying specific neighborhoods, streets, and even houses in which events took place. Additionally, it provides tables of casualty figures and discusses the credibility of various accounts and anecdotes received by the narrator.

The novel often is compared to the actual, contemporary accounts of the plague in the diary of Samuel Pepys. Defoe's account, although fictionalized, is far more systematic and detailed than Pepys's first-person account.

Moreover, it may be compared to the description of the plague in Alessandro Manzoni's The Betrothed (orig. Italian: I Promessi Sposi). Despite of some similarities (for example, both novels were written many years after the end of the plague), the two writers used different techniques: Defoe wrote a work full of detail but used a detached tone, while Manzoni was not only able to reconstruct the general atmosphere of the pestilence-stricken Milan, but also analysed individual responses to the plague with a poetic sensitivity of his own.

Thus they endured that profound misery of all prisoners and all exiles, which is to live with a memory that is of no use to them. Even the past, which they thought of endlessly, had only the taste of remorse and longing. They would have liked to be able to add to it everything that they regretted not having done when they could do it, with the person for whom they were waiting - just as they brough the absent one into every situation of their life as prisoners, even the relatively happy ones, making them inevitably dissatisfied with what they now were. Impatient with the present, hostile to the past and deprived of a future, we really did then resemble those whom justice or human hatred has forced to live behind bars. In the last resort, the only way to escape this unbearable holiday was to make the trains run again in our imagination and to fill the hours with the repeated ringing of a doorbell, however silent it obstinately remained.

p58 Part II The Plague


Carrier

The Oriental rat flea (Xenopsylla cheopis) engorged with blood after a blood meal. This species of flea is the primary vector for the transmission of Yersinia pestis the organism responsible for bubonic plague in most plague epidemics. Both male and female fleas feed on blood and can transmit the infection.
Bacteria

Yersinia pestis (formerly Pasteurella pestis) is a Gram-negative rod-shaped coccobacillus, a facultative anaerobic bacterium that can infect humans and animals.[1]

Human Y. pestis infection takes three main forms: pneumonic, septicemic, and bubonic plagues.[1] All three forms were responsible for a number of high-mortality epidemics throughout human history, including the sixth century's Plague of Justinian, the Black Death, which accounted for the death of at least one-third of the European population between 1347 and 1353, and the 19th century's Third Pandemic.[2][3][4][5] It has now been shown that these plagues probably originated in rodent populations in China.

Also known as The Plague or The Black Death

The Black Death was one of the most devastating pandemics in human history, resulting in the deaths of an estimated 75 to 200 million people and peaking in Europe in the years 1348–50.[1][2][3] Although there were several competing theories as to the etiology of the Black Death, analysis of DNA from victims in northern and southern Europe published in 2010 and 2011 indicates that the pathogen responsible was the Yersinia pestis bacterium, probably causing several forms of plague.[4][5]

The Black Death is thought to have originated in the arid plains of central Asia, where it then travelled along the Silk Road, reaching the Crimea by 1346.[6] From there, it was most likely carried by Oriental rat fleas living on the black rats that were regular passengers on merchant ships. Spreading throughout the Mediterranean and Europe, the Black Death is estimated to have killed 30–60% of Europe's total population.[7] All in all, the plague reduced the world population from an estimated 450 million down to 350–375 million in the 14th century.

Excerpt Part II of The Plague by Albert Camus (p108)

It was four o'clock in the afternoon. The town was slowly cooking beneath a leaden sky. All the shops had their blinds down. The roads were empty. Cottard and Rambert took streets with arcades and walked along for some time without saying anything. It was one of those times when the plague became invisible. This silence, this death of colours and movement, could belong to summer as much as to the pestilence. One could not tell if the air was heavy with meance, or with dust and scorching heat. You had to look and think yourself back to the plague, which only betrayed its presence by negative signs. Cottard, who had some affinity with it, pointed out to Rambert, for example, that there were no dogs around, though normally they would have been lying to their sides, panting, just inside doorways, in search of some unattainable coolness.

As you might have read in the previous posts - Daniel Defoe's work on the great plague of London was interpreted as being non-fictional, indeed to some extent that debate continues. I am undecided to what extent the style Camus adopts is an attempt to evoke the same response from his intended reader. The narrator is also unknown, at least at his stage, so one has to be careful discriminating between the narrator's observations and the possible authorial perspective.

This work stands in a tradition of texts on plague which includes: The Biblical writer of Exodus (Mosaic tradition), Justinian I and John of Epheseus 6th century plague of Constantinople as well as Defoe's work.

There were ten plagues in Exodus 7:14-11:10

The Plague of Blood
The Plague of Frogs
The Plague of Gnats
The Plague of Flies
The Plague of Livestock
The Plague of Boils
The Plague of Hail
The Plague of Locusts
The Plague of Darkness
The Plague of First Born


11 Now the Lord had said to Moses, “I will bring one more plague on Pharaoh and on Egypt. After that, he will let you go from here, and when he does, he will drive you out completely. 2 Tell the people that men and women alike are to ask their neighbors for articles of silver and gold.” 3 (The Lord made the Egyptians favorably disposed toward the people, and Moses himself was highly regarded in Egypt by Pharaoh’s officials and by the people.)
4 So Moses said, “This is what the Lord says: ‘About midnight I will go throughout Egypt. 5 Every firstborn son in Egypt will die, from the firstborn son of Pharaoh, who sits on the throne, to the firstborn son of the female slave, who is at her hand mill, and all the firstborn of the cattle as well. 6 There will be loud wailing throughout Egypt—worse than there has ever been or ever will be again. 7 But among the Israelites not a dog will bark at any person or animal.’ Then you will know that the Lord makes a distinction between Egypt and Israel. 8 All these officials of yours will come to me, bowing down before me and saying, ‘Go, you and all the people who follow you!’ After that I will leave.” Then Moses, hot with anger, left Pharaoh.
9 The Lord had said to Moses, “Pharaoh will refuse to listen to you—so that my wonders may be multiplied in Egypt.” 10 Moses and Aaron performed all these wonders before Pharaoh, but the Lord hardened Pharaoh’s heart, and he would not let the Israelites go out of his country.

http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/...7%3A14-11%3A10

Book Of Exodus
The Book of Exodus or, simply, Exodus (from Greek ἔξοδος, exodos, meaning "going out"; Hebrew: שמות‎, Sh'mot, "Names"), is the second book of the Hebrew Bible, and of the five books of the Torah (the Pentateuch).[1]

The book tells how the Israelites leave slavery in Egypt through the strength of Yahweh, the God who has chosen Israel as his people. Led by their prophet Moses they journey through the wilderness to Mount Sinai, where Yahweh promises them the land of Canaan (the "Promised Land") in return for their faithfulness. Israel enters into a covenant with Yahweh who gives them their laws and instructions for the Tabernacle, the means by which he will dwell with them and lead them to the land, and give them peace.

Traditionally ascribed to Moses himself, modern scholarship sees the book as initially a product of the Babylonian exile (6th century BCE), with final revisions in the Persian post-exilic period (5th century).[2] Carol Meyers in her commentary on Exodus suggests that it is arguably the most important book in the Bible, as it presents the defining features of Israel's identity: memories of a past marked by hardship and escape, a binding covenant with the god who chooses Israel, and the establishment of the life of the community and the guidelines for sustaining it.[


Moses Michelangelo

I've always had trouble with this count. It feels more like there are only nine plagues in the story: darkness isn't parallel to any of the the other tribulations and in context it feels more like a dramatic pause before the big one at the end than like a real "plague."

But readers of sacred texts seem to like finding tens: compare the Ten Commandments. There's nothing in the biblical text that says there are exactly ten -- and Catholics and Protestants count them differently, showing that the list could plausibly be considered eleven commandments. Or nine.

I would think that it has meaning beyond it structuring the narrative. Genesis has a lot of metaphors that focus on the creation of light in different forms. I would assume that the weighty darkness covering all of Egyptians extends the metaphor of being outside of God's grace or will. In a sense, it unifies all of the plagues with the essential sin of the Egyptians which is not obeying God's will.


I finished up The Plague and will do a write-up in the next 24 hours.
Undecided what I am going to read next will update when I make a choice.

The Plague of Frogs really doesn't sound that serious.

I agree, plague of frogs was pretty much the only tolerable bit of the whole 11 hours of Magnolia.

The Plague by Albert Camus

This is a superbly crafted work of fiction. There is a harmony between form, style and characterisation through the restrained non-fictive voice of his narrator Dr Rieux. The bare, restrained writing style works to create the very banal, oppressive reality of life within the plagued city. The stakes could not be higher yet it is encased in the ordinary life of the imprisoned characters. This primordial struggle of the everyday 'man' with the vagaries of forces beyond his control, is presented with all the bounds inherent within our own existent. There are only a few exceptional imaginative flourishes by the author. On the whole, the non-fictive style anchors the limitations of the character's perspective and also restrains the reader from truly being able to walk in the character's shoes. This reflects the inherent opacity of the "Other" in our everyday encounters with the world. We, like the author, just as his narrator - cannot fully see into the heart of others within this prison (our existent) though not for want of trying.
I thoroughly enjoyed this work.


Bravo!

#38Three Men in a Boat by Jerome K Jerome



Three Men in a Boat (To Say Nothing of the Dog),[Note 1] published in 1889, is a humorous account by English writer Jerome K. Jerome of a boating holiday on the Thames between Kingston and Oxford.


Jerome Klapka Jerome (2 May 1859 – 14 June 1927) was an English writer and humorist, best known for the comic travelogue Three Men in a Boat (1889).

Other works include the essay collections Idle Thoughts of an Idle Fellow (1886) and Second Thoughts of an Idle Fellow; Three Men on the Bummel, a sequel to Three Men in a Boat; and several other novels.

Route along the Thames

Starting point.



Kingston upon Thames, also known as Kingston, is the principal settlement of the Royal Borough of Kingston upon Thames in southwest London. It was the ancient market town where Saxon kings were crowned. Kingston is situated 10 miles (16.1 km) southwest of Charing Cross and is one of the major metropolitan centres identified in the London Plan.[2] Kingston was part of a large ancient parish in the county of Surrey and the town was an ancient borough, reformed in 1835. It has been the location of Surrey County Hall from 1893, extraterritorially since Kingston became part of Greater London in 1965. The population of the town itself, comprising the four wards of Canbury, Grove, Norbiton and Tudor, was 43,013 in the 2011 census


Kingston has been covered in literature, film and television. It is where the comic Victorian novel Three Men in a Boat by Jerome K. Jerome begins; cannons aimed against the Martians in H. G. Wells' The War of the Worlds are positioned on Kingston Hill; in The Rainbow by D. H. Lawrence the youngest Brangwen dreams of a job in Kingston upon Thames in a long, lyrical passage; Mr. Knightly in Emma by Jane Austen regularly visits Kingston, although the narrative never follows him there.

Narrator's description of Harris Chapter 3 p.19

That's Harris all over - so ready to take the burden of everything himself, and put it on the backs of other people.
He always reminds me of my poor Uncle Podger. You never saw such a commotion up and down a house in all your life, as when my Uncle Podger undertook to do a job. A picture would have come home from the frame-maker's, and be standing in the dining room, waiting to be put up; and Aunt Podger would ask what was to be done with it, and Uncle Podger would say:
'Oh, you leave that to me. Don't you, any of you, worry yourselves about that. I'll do all that.
And then he would take off his coat, and begin. He would send the girl out for sixpenn'orth of nails, and then one of the boys after her to tell her what size to get; and, from that, he would gradually work down, and start the whole house.
'Now you go and get me my hammer, Will,' He would shout, 'and bring me the rule, Tom; and I shall want the step-ladder, and I had better have a kitchen chair, too; nd Jim! you run round to Mr Googgles and tell him, "Pa's kind regards and hopes his leg's better, and will he lend him his spirit-level?" And don't you go, Maria, because I shall want somebody to hold me the light; and when the girl comes back she must go out again for a bit of picture-cord; and Tom! - Where's Tom - Tom, you come here; I shall want you to hand me up the picture.'

I think the wit of the work is likely to be found in the situational comedy similiar to the scene described above. That is not an easy thing to do within a novel that does not have all the props of more visual forms.

Hampton Court Maze



Hampton Court Maze is a hedge maze planted some time between 1689 and 1695 by George London and Henry Wise for William III of Orange at Hampton Court Palace.[1] The maze covers a third of an acre and contains half a mile of paths.[2] It is possible that the current design replaced an earlier maze planted for Cardinal Thomas Wolsey. It was originally planted with hornbeam, although it has been repaired using many different types of hedge.


Three men in a Boat at Hampton Court Maze p46

"We'll just go in here, so that you can say you've been, but it's very simple. It's absurd to call it a maze. You keep on taking the first turning to the right. We'll just walk round for ten minutes, and then go and get some lunch." ...
Harris kept on turning to the right, but it seemed a long way, and his cousin said he supposed it was a very big maze.
"Oh, one of the largest in Europe", said Rachael.
"Yes, it must be", replied the cousin, "because we've walked a good two miles already!"
Harris began to think it rather strange himself, but he held on until, at last, they passed the half of a penny bun on the ground that Harris's cousin swore he had noticed there seven minutes ago.

The Maze was created for:

William III & II (Dutch: Willem III; 4 November 1650 – 8 March 1702)[1] was a sovereign Prince of Orange of the House of Orange-Nassau by birth. From 1672 he governed as Stadtholder William III of Orange (Dutch: Willem III van Oranje) over Holland, Zeeland, Utrecht, Gelderland, and Overijssel of the Dutch Republic. From 1689 he reigned as William III over England and Ireland; it is a coincidence that his regnal number (III) was the same for both Orange and England. As King of Scotland, he is known as William II.[2] He is informally known by sections of the population in Northern Ireland and Scotland as "King Billy".[3] In what became known as the "Glorious Revolution", on 5 November 1688 William invaded England in an action that ultimately deposed King James II & VII and won him the crowns of England, Scotland and Ireland. In the British Isles, William ruled jointly with his wife, Mary II, until her death on 28 December 1694. The period of their joint reign is often referred to as "William and Mary".

Portrait of King William III (c1680) Sir Godfrey Kneller

Sir Godfrey Kneller, 1st Baronet (born Gottfried Kniller; 8 August 1646 – 19 October 1723) was the leading portrait painter in England during the late 17th and early 18th centuries, and was court painter to English and British monarchs from Charles II to George I. His major works include The Chinese Convert (1687; Royal Collection, London); a series of four portraits of Isaac Newton painted at various junctures of the latter's life; a series of ten reigning European monarchs, including King Louis XIV of France; over 40 "Kit-cat portraits" of members of the Kit-Cat Club; and ten "beauties" of the court of William III, to match a similar series of ten beauties of the court of Charles II painted by his predecessor as court painter, Sir Peter Lely.

Self Potrait (1685) Sir Godfrey Kneller

I have been in this maze.

Finished Three men in a boat.

Moving onto Hard Times by Charles Dickens.

Will writeup Jerome's book sometime tommorrow.

Hard Times by Charles Dickens

Hard Times – For These Times (commonly known as Hard Times) is the tenth novel by Charles Dickens, first published in 1854. The book appraises English society and is aimed at highlighting the social and economic pressures of the times.



19th century Sabbatarianism
Puritan Sabbatarianism[1] or Reformed Sabbatarianism, often just Sabbatarianism,[2] is observance of Sabbath in Christianity that is typically characterised by devotion of the entire day to worship, and consequently the avoidance of recreational activities. Unlike seventh-day Sabbatarians, Puritan Sabbatarians keep Sunday as Sabbath, calling it the Lord's Day.


In the 19th Century was Championed by



Sir Andrew Agnew, 7th Baronet (21 March 1793 – 28 April 1849) was a promoter of Sunday Sabbatarianism which brought him to the notice of Charles Dickens who criticised both his cause and his character.

He Introduced the Sabbath Observance Bills in 1836-7, four bills, for the consideration of Westminster.

Charles Dickens was one of the chief opponent of Agnew and his Bills....his opposition coalesced in an essay titled: Sunday Under Three Heads.

If you would like to read Dicken's essay style please click through for the full online text. It runs at about 4 pages so its not too large to read.

Courtesy of the University of Adelaide
http://ebooks.adelaide.edu.au/d/dickens/charles/d54su/


Sabbath Eve, painting by Alexander Johnston.

Alexander Johnston (1815 – 1891) was a Scottish painter, known for genre and history paintings.

I must have hit the reading wall. That combined with playing some werewolf and two days of teaching is the reason for my silence. You can rest assure, however, that I have returned to the saddle and managed to read 50 pages of Hard Times in the late afternoon today.

The starting passage from: Book The Second - Reaping Chapter 1 Effects in the Bank (p87, Hard Times ), struck me as being relevant for a contemporary audience. From the pollution early to the complaints of business - the complaints of 19th c England resonates in my world. What follows is the extended excerpt:

A SUNNY midsummer day. There was such a thing sometimes, even in Coketown.
Seen from a distance in such weather, Coketown lay shrouded in a haze of its own, which appeared impervious to the sun's rays. You only knew the town was there, because you knew there could have been no such sulky blotch upon the prospect without a town. A blur of soot and smoke, now confusedly tending this way, now that way now aspiring to the vault of Heaven, now murkily creeping along the earth, as the wind rose and fell, or changed its quarter: a dense formless jumble, with sheets of cross light in it, that showed nothing but masses of darkness: - Coketown in the distance was suggestive of itself, though not a brick of it could be seen.
The wonder was, it was there at all. It had been ruined so often, that it was amazing how it had borne so many shocks. Surely there never was such fragile china-ware as that of which the millers of Coketown were made. Handle them never so lightly, and they fell to pieces with such ease that you might suspect them of having been flawed before. They were ruined, when they were required to send labouring children to school; they were ruined, when inspectors were appointed to look into their works; they were ruined, when such inspectors considered it doubtful whether they were quite justified in choppin people up with their machinery; they were utterly when it was hinted that perhaps they need not alwyas make quite so much smoke. Besides Mr Bounderby's gold spoon which was genereally received in Coketown, another prevalent fiction was very popular there. It took the form of a threat. Whenever a Coketowner felt he was ill-used - that is to say, whenever he was not left entirely alone, and it was proposed to hold him accountable for the consequences of any of his acts - he was sure to come out with the awful menace, that he would 'sooner pitch his property into the Atlantic.' This had terrified the Home Secretary within an inch of his life, on several occasions.

Food for thought.

Speak to you soon.

Three Men in a Boat by Jerome K Jerome

I found the narrator's voice increasingly unappealing. He is a pompous, self-satisfied fop-like 'gentleman'. The story-line is a patchwork quilt of anecdotes and there is very little evidence of plotting. The humour would be more suited to a visual medium with some of the anecdotes a verbal rendition of 'Stoogesque' style incompetence not really hitting the mark.

Not my cup of tea.

Will write-up a Review of Hard Times by Charles Dickens in the next couple of hours.

Currently thumbing my way through The Myth of Sisyphus by Albert Camus. This text is a compilation of a series of essays of philospohy, literary criticism and cultural observations. I will give a table of contents and the full publication in another post.

Relapsed into indolence and apathy vis a vie this reading list. Apologies for letting anyone's expectations down.

Hard Times By Charles Dickens

Set in a small industrial English town, Hard Times explores many of the social, economic and cultural developments of 19th century England. Dicken's explores the life and relationships of a small cast of characters and, out of this, critically appraises the cultural fetishes of ideas of progress, reason and education within middle class England. Repeated Biblical textual references suggests that it is from a Christian viewpoint but the absence of institutional figures of the church perhaps means that Dicken's own Christianity is non-traditional.
There are characters that I wished had been explored in greater detail. I , also, found the plot resolution and moral implications thereof, problematic and unsatisfactory. But they are small criticisms compared to the pleasure of reading another Dickensian work.

In Greek mythology Sisyphus (/ˈsɪsɪfəs/;[1] Greek: Σίσυφος, Sísyphos) was a king of Ephyra (now known as Corinth) punished for chronic deceitfulness by being compelled to roll an immense boulder up a hill, only to watch it roll back down, and to repeat this action forever.

The Myth of Sisyphus:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sisyphus


Sisyphus Titian 1548/49 The Prado

Description from:
https://www.museodelprado.es/en/the-...obra/sisyphus/

Sisyphus, king of Corinth, climbs the mountain carrying a boulder, as he was condemned to do for eternity by Pluto, god of the underworld. Sisyphus had very cleverly tricked the gods numerous times, and even managed to escape death, itself. In order to prevent him from escaping after his death, Pluto obliged him to carry a boulder to the top of a mountain, but it always fell down just before he reached the top.

Along with Tityus (P00427), Tantalus and Ixion, this work is part of the group known as the Condemned or the Furies, which Titian painted at the behest of María de Hungría (1505-1558), who was the sister of Carlos V (1500-1558). The latter two works were lost when Madrid's Alcázar Palace burned in 1734. They were conceived with a moral purpose, as a warning to those who dared defy the Emperor in his struggle against the Protestants.

This work entered the Prado Museum in 1828.


Mary of Austria (15 September 1505 – 18 October 1558), also known as Mary of Hungary, was queen consort of Hungary and Bohemia[note 2] as the wife of King Louis II, and was later Governor of the Habsburg Netherlands.

The daughter of Queen Joanna and King Philip I of Castile, Mary married King Louis II of Hungary and Bohemia in 1515. Their marriage was happy but short and childless. Upon her husband's death following the Battle of Mohács in 1526, Mary governed Hungary as regent in the name of the new king, her brother, Ferdinand I.

In 1531, Mary was asked by her eldest brother, Emperor Charles V, to assume the governance of the Netherlands and guardianship over their nieces, Dorothea and Christina of Denmark, upon the death of their aunt Margaret. As governor of the Netherlands, Mary faced riots and a difficult relationship with the Emperor. Throughout her tenure she continuously attempted to ensure peace between the Emperor and the King of France. Although she never enjoyed governing and asked for permission to resign several times, the Queen succeeded in creating a unity between the provinces, as well as in securing for them a measure of independence from both France and the Holy Roman Empire.[1] After her final resignation, the frail Queen moved to Castile, where she died.

Having inherited the Habsburg lip and not very feminine looks, Mary was not considered physically attractive. Her portraits, letters, and comments by her contemporaries do not assign her the easy Burgundian charm possessed by her grandmother, Duchess Mary of Burgundy, and her aunt Margaret. Nevertheless, she proved to be a determined and skillful politician, as well as an enthusiastic patron of literature, music, and hunting.[



Mary, Queen of Hungary Jan Cornelisz. Vermeyen, Metropolitian Musuem of Art

The Myth of Sisyphus by Albert Camus
An Absurd Reasoning - p46

Am I to fear having carried too far a theme handled with greater circumspection by its creators? I read merely these assertions of Husserl, apparently paradoxical yet rigorously logical if what precedes is accepted: 'That which is true is true absolutely, in itself; truth is one, identical to itself, however different the creatures who perceive it, men, monsters, angels or gods.' Reason triumphs and trumpets forth with that voice, I cannot deny. What can its assertions mean in the absurd world? The perception of an angel or a god has no meaning for me. That geometrical spot where divine reason ratifies mine will always be incomprehensible to me. There, too, I discern a leap and, though performed in the abstract, it nonetheless means for me forgetting just what I do not want to forget.

Edmund Gustav Albrecht Husserl (German: [ˈhʊsɐl]; April 8, 1859 – April 27, 1938[3]) was a German[4][5] philosopher who established the school of phenomenology. He broke with the positivist orientation of the science and philosophy of his day. He elaborated critiques of historicism and of psychologism in logic. Not limited to empiricism, but believing that experience is the source of all knowledge, he worked on a method of phenomenological reduction by which a subject may come to know directly an essence.

Although born into a Jewish family, Husserl was baptized as a Lutheran in 1886. He studied mathematics under Karl Weierstrass and Leo Königsberger, and philosophy under Franz Brentano and Carl Stumpf. Husserl himself taught philosophy as a Privatdozent at Halle from 1887, then as professor, first at Göttingen from 1901, then at Freiburg from 1916 until he retired in 1928. Thereafter he gave two notable lectures: at Paris in 1929, and at Prague in 1935. The notorious 1933 race laws of the Nazi regime took away his academic standing and privileges. Following an illness, he died at Freiburg in 1938.

The Myth of Sisyphus by Albert Camus

Camus does not adhere to the traditions of the philosophical genre. This work is neither a treatise nor a dense schema rather it is an essay style discourse on the human condition. The 'absurd' is the central theme around which Camus describes our encounter with the world. The central essay is divided into three parts Absurd Reasoning, The Absurd Man and Absurd Creaton - each draw together and develop the arguments Camus uses against the dual totems of Western culture Reason and God. Experienced readers of philosophy will find this a very accessible work although some might hope for a greater engagement on a vareity of subjects.

The work that I had also contains a wonderful selection of short pieces on a variety of subjects ranging from a description of the town of Algiers to musings on the Artist an his times.

I spent extra timing sipping upon this vintage wine.

A pleasure.



Next work

The Colour Purple by Alice Walker

This last week was an interesting week in historical memory. On the one hand, we had the 70th anniversary of the great day of WW II invasion "D-Day" - with every political leader wanting to associate themselves with that historical moment. In contrast, on the other hand, we had the 25th anniversary of the Tiananmen Square massacre - where a whole state and all its resources are attempting to erase that memory from the historical record.

Propaganda rules the roost - in either hands.

Alice Walker

Walker was born in Putnam County, Georgia,[4] the youngest of eight children, to Willie Lee Walker and Minnie Lou Tallulah Grant. Her father, who was, in her words, "wonderful at math but a terrible farmer," earned only $300 ($4,000 in 2013 dollars) a year from sharecropping and dairy farming. Her mother supplemented the family income by working as a maid.[5] She worked 11 hours a day for $17 per week to help pay for Alice to attend college.[6]

Living under Jim Crow laws, Walker's parents resisted landlords who expected the children of black sharecroppers to work the fields at a young age. A white plantation owner said to her that black people had "no need for education". Minnie Lou Walker, according to her daughter, replied "You might have some black children somewhere, but they don't live in this house. Don't you ever come around here again talking about how my children don't need to learn how to read and write." Her mother enrolled Alice in first grade when the girl was four years old.[7]

Growing up with an oral tradition, listening to stories from her grandfather (who was the model for the character of Mr. in The Color Purple), Walker began writing, very privately, when she was eight years old. "With my family, I had to hide things," she said. "And I had to keep a lot in my mind."[8]

In 1952, Walker was accidentally wounded in the right eye by a shot from a BB gun fired by one of her brothers.[9] In 2013, on BBC Radio's Desert Island Discs, she said the act was actually deliberate but she agreed to protect her brother against their parents' anger if they knew the truth. Because the family had no car, the Walkers could not take their daughter to a hospital for immediate treatment. By the time they reached a doctor a week later, she had become permanently blind in that eye. When a layer of scar tissue formed over her wounded eye, Alice became self-conscious and painfully shy. Stared at and sometimes taunted, she felt like an outcast and turned for solace to reading and to writing poetry. When she was 14, the scar tissue was removed. She later became valedictorian and was voted most-popular girl, as well as queen of her senior class, but she realized that her traumatic injury had some value: it had allowed her to begin "really to see people and things, really to notice relationships and to learn to be patient enough to care about how they turned out".[5] After high school, Walker went to Spelman College in Atlanta on a full scholarship in 1961 and later transferred to Sarah Lawrence College, graduating in 1965. Walker became interested in the U.S. civil rights movement in part due to the influence of activist Howard Zinn, who was one of her professors at Spelman College. Continuing the activism that she participated in during her college years, Walker returned to the South where she became involved with voter registration drives, campaigns for welfare rights, and children's programs in Mississippi.[10]

On March 17, 1967, she married Melvyn Roseman Leventhal. She worked as writer in residence at Jackson State College (1968–1969) and Tougaloo College (1970–1971) and was a consultant in black history to the Friends of the Children of Mississippi Head Start program.

Official website
http://alicewalkersgarden.com/