Charles Darwin’s birthday (12 February 1809 – 19 April 1882) today! I know this because I have just listened to Sarah Darwin – a couple of greats of a grand up the ‘tree of life’ – inform me of such just now on Today. On this day then, the much lauded, often misunderstood – and sometimes maligned – ‘father of evolution’ has gifted to his extended and forever growing family, and contrary to birthday conventions, the books from his library – that inner sanctum of a every learned Victorian – at Down House, the Darwin family home in Berkshire.
Shaw’s piece has a lot of very interesting references; whether they are his own or come from Greenwalt I am not sure. For instance, Michael Crichton; I am of the generation that belatedly discovered a fascination for the Jurassic and recall being very open to the possibility of dinosaur DNA being preserved in fossilized mosquitos or the like – and was absolutely terrified of velociraptors. And I also took notice of those first reports – from not so very many years ago – that dinosaurs had, not only ‘beautiful plumage’, but colorful ones as well! Here are some nice pages at the University of Bristol, where some of the leading paleontologists in the field are stationed. And to stretch the powers of the imagination even further:
Then there are the long ago ‘fossil’ observations of one Athanasius Kircher, who I came upon during a reading of Daniel Kehlmann’s novel Tyll a few years ago, and his and Steno’s struggles to reconcile there observations in the natural world with their Christian faith. (I actually have in my possession at this time an academic collection of writings about Kircher which I may be inspired to dip into.)
And, in the not so natural world, Shaw mentions another abiding interest of mine: the struggle to come to terms with a colourful past that is contrary to the long accepted white aesthetic. New to me that a landsman should be one of those.
Thank God and every other god there is
That time is an aesthete
Who strips the colours from the Parthenon.
We are left, were it not
For the play of shadow,
With the acres and square miles
Of Fuseli’s white ghost-flesh
But it beats the polychromatic
Crap out of the Disneyland
That antiquity once was.
One may think we are talking about two very different things here – science and art, if you will – but Liam Shaw in the conclusion to his article says: ‘Like sculptures, fossils need curators.’ And, seemingly echoing the sentiments of Greenwalt, that, faced with ever newer technologies, ‘Extracting new information from old fossils is a question of knowing what to look for – but it’s also a question of knowing when to stop.’
During the UK leg of her book tour at the end of last year, Emily Wilson accepted the London Review of Books invitation to present her Iliad translation. And they found a wonderful discussion partner for her in Edith Hall. And complimented by a thespian pair conjured from amongst the embarrassment of riches which is the theatrical talent of a nation – Juliet Stevenson and Tobias Menzies. Stellar, I say! Such an evening could only happen in London.
Over a festive season that stretched my resources, I turned to a German translation of Flaubert’s Madame Bovary; translated by Elisabeth Edl (admired by me for her translations of Patrick Modiano) and much lauded at the time of publication in 2012. And, I must say it seems to have left a greater impression upon me than whatever English version I may have read in the past (but not the one by Lydia Davis, also from 2012) did; for I don’t remember previously having been as stimulated … or, as moved … as this reading has left me.
To be said on this particular edition: Beyond the literary work, the notes throughout are extensive, as is Edl’s translation essay; included also in the volume are the proceedings from the law case brought against Flaubert for … what? … obscenity, shall we say … by the French public prosecutors of the day. This latter inclusion was a first in the German language, and whether it has found its way into any of the English translations to date I don’t know. At least, it – the trial, the outcome (‘case dismissed’, so to speak), the repercussions (for society, for literature) – lives, still, in academia. This essay by Christine Haines published in French Politics, Culture & Society Vol. 23, No. 2 (Summer 2005), pp 1-27 and available on JSTOR is just one example.
Of an evening (that is, in bed!) my seriously serious book reading is intermittently interrupted by other forms of Lektüre, sometimes of a more frivolous nature and sometimes not. Definitely belonging to the latter; the latest (or the one before that) issue of the LRB. And, it was there, around about this Christmas time, that I was interested to read a review piece by Julian Barnes (Vol. 45 No. 24 · 14 December 2023) inspired by a new Monet biography by Jackie Wollschläger. With that, I won’t flex my (puny) Impressionist muscles; Julian Barnes may be able to get away with being an amateur art critic/historian/connoisseur, but, I not! It just reminded me that Barnes and Flaubert appear to have taken up firm residence in a similar crevice of my brain. Hardly surprising says she (to herself), recalling a stuffed parrot. But, amongst other things, I also rememberhis essay (also in the LRB) on the Lydia Davis translation of Madame Bovary, and that it was far from complimentary. And, this I remember because I remember it having coincided with my reading of the first volume of Proust’s In Search of Lost Time in a then new translation and also from Davis, and I further remember having been momentarily concerned that I wasn’t getting the best of Proust. What, if anything, Barnes has had to say about her Swann’s Way, I don’t know. Or, just can’t remember!
“Life can only be understood backwards; but it must be lived forwards”
So said the Danish theologian Søren Kierkegaard, or approximately anyway. More precisely:
Det er ganske sandt, hvad Philosophien siger, at Livet maa forstaaes baglænds. Men derover glemmer man den anden Sætning, at det maa leves forlænds.
It is perfectly true, as the philosophers say, that life must be understood backwards. But they forget the other proposition, that it must be lived forwards.
Søren Kierkegaard, Journals IV A 164 (1843)
As this year ends, with all the demands it has made upon so many, a look back in anything but anger seems impossible, therefore I do so with no more than a glance, and done (and off the top of my head) in just a few brief paragraphs. The whys and wherefores will be attended to in time and, hopefully, to follow Kierkegaard with understanding, but not now.
No, I didn’t welcome in the year 2023 with terribly much optimism, but that it would be so unsparing and, for some, so brutal, I did not foresee. In the Big Wide World trouble was afoot wherever one looked; Russia’s continued war against the Ukraine; China sabre-rattling in the Taiwan Strait; conflicts to various extremes on the African continent (incl. Sudan, Mali), in Yemen (still), in Myanmar (still); natural disasters aplenty (incl. catastrophic earthquake in Turkey/Syria, the warmest year in human history & all that implies in all regions of the world – floods, drought, fire, famine, etc.); political turmoil, in places expected and places not (right-wing populists elected in The Netherlands, Argentina). This all just a small sampling.
The inflation that dominated the world’s western economies began to subside by the end of the summer (here, in Germany, the double figure mark was touched mid-year) and is now nearing the desired 2% in some. Zooming in, the EU will probably end the year at about 3% and Germany at 3.7% and seemingly still trending “south” (though still not reflected in the weekly shop, I can tell you!), the US figures and trends are not dissimilar. Elsewhere, in Turkey and Argentina for instance, inflation remains entrenched at a mind-boggling rates (e.g. Turkey at 60 odd %, Argentina 185% p.a.!) – but that’s another story, upon which I am unqualified to speak.
As people everywhere were born, so many – but not as many – died; and, of those, one knows only the near (and sometimes dear) or those of renown. This latter group included: Glenda Jackson, Michael Parkinson, Barry Humphries (and with him Dame Edna), Henry Kissinger, Sandra Day O’Connor, Dianne Feinstein, Tina Turner, Jeff Beck, Michael Gambon, A.S. Byatt, Martin Amis, Cormac McCarthy, Jane Birkin, Ryan O’Neal, Bacharach, Bennett, Belafonte – all old or very old, and mentioned by me without judgement and only because with each I associate something special – an event, a book, a film, a song, a particular moment in my life; and then there were, as always, those well before their time (so to speak) … of whom I come up blank at the moment (…oh, there was Matthew Perry). That it should be in the finality of death that we meet up with that one certainty in life that awaits us all.
Oh, and the King was crowned. Long live the King, I say. God knows he’s waited long enough to show his stuff.
I end with the two things from the year gone that, in my mind, will continue to dominate this new year, and potentially pose the greatest risk to global security and the well-being of many. Firstly, the deadly 7th October attack by Hamas on Israel and the aftermath that sees an ongoing retaliatory, and even more deadly, incursion by the IDF into Gaza. The stability of the entire region, always fragile, has now been seriously undermined, with the way forward towards some sort of resolution unclear. Problematic, also, is that this regional conflict has found resonance globally – especially in the media, and on the streets and campuses of Western countries; in which protest has taken radical partisan forms (the gamut of the political spectrum from left to right, secular to religious, anti-Semitic, anti-Islam), intermingled, and often created strange (more than strange: bizarre!) bed-fellows.
And, secondly, the unlikely – or so I thought – reemergence of Trump and Trumpist America – and all that that implies. Heading into election year, Biden’s popularity is at its lowest ebb, and Republican contenders to usurp Trump’s crown appear doomed. What can be said? Be it the courts, be it (mainstream) media, be it economic stability, be it pure ‘reason’; nought seems to deter this man from his pursuit of that which he believes to be his to take, nor hinder his ability to convince his MAGA ‘fans’ likewise. America survived one Trump term, would they seriously risk another? The world looks on aghast – and waits.
Alone to be said: Another year has found its end and a new one just begun, and already on its inexorable way to just as certain an end. What fate awaits in the year 2024? What will it bring, what is to be left in its wake? … But I resist the temptation to predict! Instead, the best one can do is accept the living of it, the muddling through it, and with some modest good intentions – one day at a time.
And, should you ask: And what is that? I do quote:
Established in June 2020, the Thalia Potamianos Annual Lectures Series seeks to create a stimulating environment to draw the academic community and the public to the Gennadius Library of the American School of Classical Studies at Athens. Every year, a highly distinguished, internationally renowned scholar is selected to conduct research and develop programs on a topic relevant to the Gennadius Library. The research will culminate in a minimum of three annual public lectures, which will be delivered in Athens and the United States.
This program is being made possible by a generous grant from Gennadius Library Overseer Phokion Potamianos. Mr. Potamianos named the series in memory of his grandmother, a distinguished Greek biochemist, scientist, and philanthropist.
And, of particular interest to me, is that the current presenter is Dr. Emily Wilson. As per the schedule below, the first lecture was held in October in Athens, and the next two are in the US next year. (Of course, very timely considering Emily Wilson’s new Iliad translation!)
LECTURE SCHEDULE
2023–2024 Schedule for The Myth, Magic, and Mystery of the Ancient GreeksLecture I: The Vulnerability of Heroism
Tuesday, October 3, 2023 – ATHENS, GREECE
7:00 p.m. EEST (Greece) / 12:00 p.m. EDT (US)
Cotsen Hall, Anapiron Polemou 9
Lecture II: Destiny, Tradition, Choice
Wednesday, January 24, 2024 – GEORGETOWN UNIVERSITY (Washington, DC)
6:00 p.m. EST (US)
Gaston Hall, located inside the Healy Hall Building, 37th & O Streets, NW
Lecture III: The Wisdom of Stories
Wednesday, May 8, 2024 – NEW YORK CITY
6:00 p.m. EDT (US)
St. Bartholomew’s Church, 352 Park Avenue (between 50th & 51st Streets)
I embed here a video of the first lecture; and I will so do again with the remaining of the series – and in a more timely fashion.
Update: January 27 – Well, the first lecture has disappeared so herewith the second – though it may also have a limited life!
Update: February 2 2024 – Ditto the above! Time zone disparity didn’t allow for a live watching of the second lecture, and so I belatedly began to look at it a couple of days ago, only to get distracted and now the second lecture is also gone!
Update: May 21 – Gladly managed to watch the final lecture delivered in NYC last week (just in time!). From what I saw at least, these lectures were for a much more learned audience, but even a lay person/aged fan-girl such as I could garner rewards – and especially in this last one which focused on narrative and story-building. The juxtaposition of Pandora (from Hesiod) and Helen (from Homer); the former presented as a passive participant in her own story and the latter speaking in her own voice.
I don’t know why these recordings had such a ‘limited release’; should they return I will embed them again – but I fear not. Schade! I do wonder whether Dr. Wilson is not looking towards publication. I have noticed of late that very many lecture series are ending up in book form. That’s okay … I guess!
Earlier this year I wrote what I remember to have been a fairly extensive entry relating to the 400th anniversary of the printing of the so-called ‘First Folio’ of Shakespeare’s plays. Looking for it today, I am mortified – radically overly stated perhaps but nevertheless appropriately theatrical in tenor – to discover it has disappeared! I do know that it was written during a period of preoccupation with the Bard (a not uncommon thing) around about the time I read Hamnet and heard about (then later acquired) Greg Doran’sMy Shakespeare – A Director’s Journey through the First Folio.
Of all days – today! There has been of course much ado during this whole year, now all but gone, but the book was entered into the Stationers’ Register on 8 November 1623 so this is a good book end, so to speak.
So it is, and belatedly, that I refer again to the magnificent site, Folio 400: Printing Shakespeare set-up to inform and help navigate through all the celebratory events. An invaluable resource; that it, too, may have a long life! Their mission is self-explanatory:
The First Folio is one of the great wonders of the literary world.
Published in 1623, seven years after the death of its author, it was the first printed edition of Shakespeare’s collected plays. Without this achievement, we would have lost half of his dramatic work.
This website is dedicated in gratitude to the 400th birthday of this foundational book on the 8th November 2023.
To end, as I began, on a theatrical note. On the BBC site, media editor Katy Razzall talks to David Tennant about what Shakespeare means to him and his upcoming role as Macbeth at the Donmar – sold out, but of course! And, as we lick our wounds, we are left with the special treat of Tennant’s recitation of a Macbeth soliquay (Act 1 Scene 7). (Embedded below.)
Every day is Shakespeare day, but today most especially.
In the above article on Medium, Seyla Benhabib counters, and convincingly in my opinion, an open letter with the title Philosophy for Palestine signed by a bevy of predominantly U.S. intellectuals and academics, including Judith Butler and Nancy Fraser. (To be truthful, a scan of the signatories suggests to me no other name of renown – but then what do, or who do, I know!)
