" 'But it is a pleasure to be acquainted with many arts!'
"Therefore let
us keep only as much of them as is essential.
"Do you regard that man as
blameworthy who puts superfluous things on the same footing with useful
things, and in his house makes a lavish display of costly objects, but
do not deem him blameworthy who has allowed himself to become engrossed
with the useless furniture of learning? This desire to know more than is
sufficient is a sort of intemperance.
"Why? Because this
unseemly pursuit of the liberal arts makes men troublesome, wordy,
tactless, self-satisfied bores, who fail to learn the essentials just
because they have learned the non-essentials.
"Didymus the scholar wrote
four thousand books. I should feel pity for him if he had only read the
same number of superfluous volumes. In these books he investigates
Homer's birthplace, who was really the mother of Aeneas, whether Anacreon was more of a rake or more of a drunkard, whether Sappho was a bad lot, and other problems the answers to which, if found, were forthwith to be forgotten.
"Come now, do not tell me that life is long! No, when you come to consider our own countrymen also, I can show you many works which ought to be cut down with the axe.
"It is at the cost of a vast outlay of time and of vast discomfort to
the ears of others that we win such praise as this: 'What a learned man
you are!'
"Let us be content with this recommendation, less citified
though it be: 'What a good man you are!'
"Do I mean this? Well, would you have me unroll the annals of the world's history and try
to find out who first wrote poetry? Or, in the absence of written
records, shall I make an estimate of the number of years which lie
between Orpheus and Homer?
"Or shall I make a study of the absurd
writings of Aristarchus, wherein he branded the text of other men's verses, and wear my life away upon syllables? Shall I then wallow in the geometrician's dust?
" Have I so far forgotten the useful saying: 'Save your time'?
Must I know these things? And what may I choose not to know?"
--Seneca the Younger, Moral Letters to Lucilius, 88 (tr Gummere)
It is indeed a pleasure to have many interests and hobbies. Over the many years I have pursued quite a few of them, sometimes to my credit, at other times not so much.
I have loved science fiction and fantasy writing, along with science fiction and fantasy television and films. I have loved hiking, camping, and mountaineering. I have loved the fine art of fencing. I used to be able to run a decent mile, and I could bike an even more decent mile. I have loved listening to music of all sorts, and playing music of all sorts.
At one point, I owned fourteen different instruments. I currently own over 6000 records. I have loved books, and I will still read them voraciously. I have a library of about 3000 texts on paper, plus another 3000 digitally. I love pipe smoking, and have collected about 200 pipes and carefully cellared something close to 300 pounds of pipe tobacco.
I also like to collect fedora hats, and I have a closet full of them, all of the best felt quality. Then there are the Irish walking sticks, the pocket watches, chiming clocks, hunting knives, straight razors, the obsession with military history, and the dozens of books with blueprints for fighter planes.
None of these have made me a better man. There is no shame in any of them. But they have not made me a better man.
I have spent decades trying to pursue the things that I love, but I have often forgotten what was worth loving. I often thought that 'higher learning' would make me better. But that didn't work either.
And the reason for that was because I did not understand what learning was for. Education is now oftentimes a luxury for the rich. Seneca understood this as well. It isn't about truth, but about more and more posturing.
I could never have attended Harvard, but I do recall attending parties at Harvard, even though I was from across the river at Boston College. Our BC parties were just about booze and sex. Harvard parties were still about booze and sex, but there was fine wine, a far more enlightened sense of seduction, and, most importantly, a feeling that one had arrived intellectually. You didn't have to be smart. You just had to be able to pretend that you were smart.
Liberal education has fallen upon hard times. What sort of men and women do we now produce? Players. The only difference between a player in South Boston and a player in Harvard Square is the wealth and status that came with that position. One may choose to seduce someone for a night of pleasure. The other will seduce millions for profit. Only opportunity makes them any different.
But let's assume my motive is learning, and not money, pleasure, wealth, or honor. Let's say I wish to be a scholar.
Nothing has changed at all, and that is what Seneca describes. Write a thousand books, make yourself appear clever in all those articles and at all those conferences, inquire about the most obscure questions, and you will apparently be happy and successful. Scholarship, in both our age and in the age of Seneca, isn't about truth, but about showing off.
I must ask myself whether I would prefer to be thought of as being learned, or actually being good. There is the difference.
Written 1/2010
No comments:
Post a Comment