Books and Code · A Miscellany

Wheelock's Latin (7th edition), by Wheelock & LaFleur (A Review)

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I studied Latin formally for two semesters during my Masters program using the famous textbook Wheelock’s Latin. This textbook is the standard throughout universities in the US. But, I had studied Latin before on my own using various other methods. What follows is a summary of my thoughts on Wheelock and Latin pedagogy in general.

If Wheelock’s Latin were a basketball player, it’d be great at making foul shots, but utterly unable to dribble.

The good: Wheelock does a good job of teaching you Latin grammar.

The bad: it does a good job teaching you Latin grammar–and nothing else. This book teaches you to “read” Latin sentences like algebraic equations–break a contextless sentence into its component parts and solve for the subject, verb, etc. This approach goes against everything we know about how the brain acquires language.

When it does offer reading passages with some context, many are epigrams or poetry which feature tricky syntax. Not until you’ve completed the entire 40 chapters of grammar do you encounter more than one paragraph of contiguous, simple Latin prose. Each chapter ends with a rambling page or two about some ancient Latin graffiti–pages and pages wasted on what amounts to a few sentences that could have been dedicated to useful, graded reading passages. It also tries to insert as much unadapted Latin as possible, as early as possible. Because, you know, new Latin students should cut their teeth on Cicero just as ESL students do with Shakespeare…

Considering that the main thing one can do with Latin is read in it, any course intended for beginners should be focused on developing reading proficiency, but this is not the aim of this book. Wheelock teaches you to translate Latin into English with the aid of a dictionary. If that’s all you want, Wheelock is for you. If your goal is to have read at least one simple book–or even a short story–in Latin after a year of study, then this is not the book for you.

It’s not that this book is horrible, it is not. However, I think the approach is all wrong for “a book which provides both the roots and at least some literary fruits of a sound Latin experience for those who will have only a year or so of Latin in their entire educational career” (Preface). With this goal in mind, labeling the various uses of the ablative or subjunctive clause types would not be high on my list of importance. Ernest Blum outlines the why and how of a program that would address the scenario Wheelock intended to with his book.

Instead, I’d recommend Orberg’s Lingua Latina. It is written entirely in Latin (including grammar instruction) so you are reading from day 1 and naturally develop a feel for Latin word order, etc. It sounds like an all Latin text would be hard to use, but the author is very clever in how he puts everything together. The lessons form a continuous, and often humorous, narrative which is fun to read and re-read.

I’ve completed both courses and Lingua Latina is better by far. That said, Wheelock would be a good grammar review after completing Orberg.

The Reading Latin course by Cambridge University Press also looks very good but I haven’t done it (yet) so I can’t recommend it. I’d describe it as a middle ground between the Orberg and Wheelock methods.

The Discarded Image, by C.S. Lewis (A Review)

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A few general comments and then I will expound at length about my quibbles. First, this book is a phenomenal introduction to what Lewis calls the “Medieval Model”–the medieval world view. This should really be required reading before embarking on any study of the literature or history of that period.

Okay, now on to my quibbles. This book is not Christian apology dammit. It is really annoying to find this shelved in the religion section when it is more appropriately placed with literary criticism, philosophy, or history. Also, the latest Canto Classics cover makes no sense at all. Work gloves?! What the hell is that supposed to mean?

Finally, I have a lot to say about epistemology which is only tangentially related to the book’s content, although I think it has a lot to do with Lewis himself and the Inklings:

While Lewis does a fantastic job explaining the Model and dispelling common misconceptions about it, he occasionally takes his defense too far. Although he never explicitly does so, Lewis comes very close to asserting that different models that can explain the same phenomena (ie. have comparable explanatory power) are necessarily equivalent. This is a well-meaning but misguided approach, and if applied rigorously (as it regularly is in religious apologetics) often perverse. Occam’s Razor is one way to differentiate such models (ie. simpler is better). Lewis mentions Occam’s Razor early in the book and then fails utterly to apply it. Another way is by empirical verification. A third is by how much predictive power the model has. The model which replaced the Medieval Model is superior in all these criteria. Not only does Lewis not address these, he claims all models come before their evidence and that whatever the prevailing model is, evidence will be found to support it. This too is problematic because some models are demonstrably better at encouraging investigation into their validity than others. A model which eschews Occam and honors uninformed authority will accrete all manner of superfluity relative to one which honors Occam, for example. A model which makes testable predictions encourages its own verification more than one which depends on post-hoc rationalization of phenomena or arbitrary divine interventions. From this vantage point, it is obvious why Lewis yearns to draw the false equivalence and I praise him for keeping it to a minimum.

The false equivalence is also strange from Lewis’ own point of view. He (and Tolkien) talked a lot about True Myth. For them, Christianity is a myth that actually happened and all other myths were true insofar that they point to the Christian myth. In his own terms, the best myth was the one he thought was true. If we applied his mythological reasoning to the aforementioned models, we would have to conclude that the model which was most true was better. Other models were good insofar as they point to truth. This is all fine and dandy when one sticks to the mythological, but what happens when myths and their models must seriously compete on the basis of more than just their explanatory power? Lewis is not so eager to go there. And we all know why.

Humanism and the Mythic

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On the heels of my review of C.S. Lewis’ The Discarded Image and the concept of “True Myth” which I mentioned there, I’ve decided to post something I wrote a while back about secular humanism and myth. I doubt this will find much of an audience, but here it is anyway…

(There is a terminology problem that I am choosing to overlook: secularism, humanism, atheism, “science,” skepticism, materialism, etc.– these are related things, but not synonyms.)

There is a common view that secular humanism is not, and possibly cannot be, mythic or transcendent. I reject this on so many grounds, but I want to highlight one that I think is most convincing to fans of speculative fiction. Namely, that a focus on “objective reality” and empiricism is at odds with the mythic. The Inklings themselves, especially Lewis and Tolkien, expressed this view regularly and yet it is refuted on their own terms. Both of these writers talked at length about True Myth. What these men praised most about myth was that they believed it was true. This idea was the heart of Tolkien’s faith and is what converted CS Lewis, so I find it strange that critics of secular humanism poo-poo it on the basis that it can’t be mythic. If Christianity can be both true and mythic there is no reason why secular humanism can’t also be both true and mythic.

Since both these men found the mythic in all sorts of stories and beliefs in which they did not believe themselves, it seems clear to me that they saw “truthiness” and “mythicness” as at least partially independent variables. I would argue that for Tolkien at least, the mythic sprung from the Truth not the other way around. Although the story of CSL’s conversion is the reverse–he came to Truth through myth–I don’t think he would claim post-conversion that the truth claims of Christianity were false. In fact, his whole dissatisfaction with atheism stemmed from his myopic opinion of it as unmythic. From a secular perspective, CSL’s conversion is a tragic loss; he could’ve been a superlative mythic secular humanist under different circumstances. Like Tolkien and Lewis I believe that truth can be mythic, I simply disagree with them about what exactly is true!

In On Fairy-Stories Tolkien wrote that faerie (and myth more generally) offers the reader “recovery, escape, and consolation.” There is nothing about the truth of the secular humanist that rejects these qualities. On the contrary, secular humanism provides forms of recovery, escape, and consolation that are wholly unavailable through various theisms. Let me name a few: escape from the all-seeing eye of an omniscient deity, escape from eternal punishment for a temporal or inherited sin, recovery of our past suppressed by “divine” revelation, recovery of confidence in our own individual reasoning power, consolation that our successes belong to us as much as our failings, consolation in knowing that we choose our own meaning. I could go on.

Here are some True Myths of secular humanism: the interconnectedness of all life as revealed by evolutionary theory, the weirdness of quantum physics, the unfathomable size of the universe, the strange and beautiful cosmos as revealed by astronomy, the spontaneous order of economic exchange and political freedom, the amazing advance of medicine. All these and more exist thanks to secular humanism–either explicitly or as an underlying methodological assumption (in most cases humanity had to reject divine explanations to even get started)–and are thick with mythic potency. If it all seems mundane, it is because secular humanism has truly delivered the mythic goods. All the mythic hopes and prayers of the ages didn’t stop untold millions from dying of smallpox.

Tolkien argues that eucatastrophe–the “hope unlooked-for”–is “[the denial of] (in the face of much evidence, if you will) universal final defeat.” I assert that he holds himself hostage to a “final defeat” that does not exist, fools himself that the hope is unlooked-for, and is mistaken about its source. Any individual death is neither universal nor final and to assert a horrible cosmic end is certain is to presume too much. Tolkien was right to praise the act of “fighting the long defeat” because it is our own actions which make hope, not God’s. On the contrary, believing that hope is independent of human action is a disincentive to act. If your hope rests in an entity independent of this world, you have no other choice than to look for it to show up. Eucatastrophe should be mundane in a theist world. Only under the random, indifferent universe of secular humanism can eucatastrophe be truly unlooked-for. The real problem for the theist is justifying God’s withholding of temporal hope and the existence of dyscatastrophe. Secular humanism has none of these problems (in what sense is the heat death of the universe a defeat?) and all the benefits. We need only to manifest eucatastrophe through our own actions.

Plato at the Googleplex, by Rebecca Newberger Goldstein (A Review)

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Goldstein is trying to do three distinct things here. First, a general introduction to Plato. Second, a series of pastiche dialogues where her incarnation of Plato interacts with moderns. Third, a defense of philosophy as a discipline from modern scientist critics (mainly represented by Lawrence Krauss in the book). She does a serviceable job on all three, however I was not a huge fan of the conflation of them.

By far, the most engaging sections of the book are the nouveau dialogues. Plato encounters a Google programmer, thinly veiled versions of Amy Chua and Bill O’Reilly, an advice columnist, and neuroscientists. I can see why these were interleaved with explanatory chapters that get the reader up to speed on the relevant broad strokes of Greek philosophy beforehand. You simply can’t expect a modern reader to come prepared with that anymore.

However, this left little room for a decent defense of philosophy. The arguments relating to that position felt perfunctory and ill-addressed. Sometimes the dialogues were a fruitful refutation; at other times, they appear to justify the criticism that philosophy hasn’t made progress. While she covers how and why science depends or otherwise presupposes Platonism, she does not adequately address how Platonic thought has been used as a crutch by various theisms, pseudosciences, and political ideologies past and present. Perhaps this is “why philosophy won’t go away,” but it doesn’t speak to why philosophy shouldn’t go away–which is what I take her position to actually be. She didn’t really sell me on the latter–and I really wanted to be sold to…

Regarding the Audible audiobook narrated by Dennis Holland: Holland is a great voice talent. He does the dialogues very well. However, the mispronunciations were so annoying. Thales doesn’t rhyme with “tails.” The butchering of the Greek was the worst though and it was rampant. I blame the producers, not the voice talent. This is akin to a print book with misspellings everywhere. It doesn’t take that long to get reasonably close and when recording a book on Greek philosophy you should have acquainted yourself with the pronunciation of all the names you will be saying over and over.

How to Talk to Me About Religion

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Of course, you’re free to talk about religion however you want. But, if you want to do it with me here are six tips that will insure it will be a pleasant experience for both of us.

For in much wisdom is much vexation, and those who increase knowledge increase sorrow. — Ecc. 1:18

1. Your inner experience is not relevant

For who knows a person’s thoughts except their own spirit within them? — 1 Cor. 2:11

Your inner experience tells you X. My inner experience tells me Y. We are now at an impasse. How passionate you feel about X does not convince me; my passion about Y is equal to yours.

2. Truth is not a feeling

If something is true, it is true whether or not you believe it. If God exists, he exists in spite of atheists. If he does not exist, he does not exist in spite of your feeling that he does. “Feeling his presence” is just that, your feeling; see #1.

3. Extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence

The simple believe everything, but the clever consider their steps. — Prov. 14:15

The more interventionist your version of God is, the better your evidence should be. The deistic God is easier to argue for than a God who intervenes in human affairs, contradicts physics and other scientific and historic evidence, performs miracles, etc. Don’t confuse arguments for the former with arguments for the latter. The more your God does, the more hard evidence you need to provide. When I know you believe in the typical interventionist God of Protestant Christianity, don’t pretend you are a Unitarian or a deist. If God exists, he’s more likely a Unitarian or a deist than a Lutheran or a Mormon. Why? Because the former make fewer absurd claims about him.

It helps if you demonstrate good critical thinking skills in other areas of life by, for instance, seeing through quack medicine, urban legends, and not remaining blithely ignorant of vast stores of scientific evidence relevant to your truth claims. If I see gaping holes in your judgment on the dangers of GMO food, for instance, why would I expect your judgment on a much more difficult metaphysical question to be any more reliable? (See the parable of the talents in Matthew 25 on this point.)

4. Be as open to accepting my view as you expect me to be to yours

The one who first states a case seems right, until the other comes and cross-examines. — Prov. 18:17

I have no particular desire to de-convert you, but unless you are willing to consider the possibility that I am, in fact, correct I am not interested in discussing religion with you. Like you, I’m pretty confident that I am right. I’m not a “seeker” or waiting around for God to “reveal himself” to me. This is not the way knowledge works. Even a cursory acquaintance with history shows how misguided divine revelation has been as a means to attain real, verifiable truths. Plenty of other people have a sincere belief that their divine revelation (which conflicts with yours) is the truth. On what grounds are they wrong and you are right? (Keep # 1-3 in mind as you answer.)

The way I see it practiced, most religious thought is a dishonest form of retroactive continuity (“ret-con”). That is, on any given topic you start with an answer (eg. Jesus) then you work backward from that answer to find a way to derive it from the existing assertions that you’ve already claimed are divinely revealed. In this way, a religious tradition is able to avoid ever being refuted. (For example, Judaism wasn’t wrong about God, it was “fulfilled” by Jesus.) Whenever humanity acquires real knowledge (from exploration, philosophical or scientific inquiry, etc.) it can go back and revise obsolete divine revelations in light of the new information. This kind of “revision” of religious theory is very different from how scientific theories change over time. Reinterpreting things as metaphorical or symbolic what were once claimed literal is a tell-tale sign of this strategy. No one would take seriously a scientist or historian who tried this. In the 19th century, some scientists thought they saw canals on Mars. When this was eventually shown not to be so, they didn’t reinterpret the canal theory as a metaphor for the interaction of sub-atomic particles and proclaim Percival Lowell a misunderstood prophet of quantum electrodynamics. The notion was simply discarded as an explanation that didn’t pan out and lives on only in science-fiction.

5. Be informed about your own religion

My people are destroyed for lack of knowledge; because you have rejected knowledge, I reject you from being a priest to me. — Hos. 4:6

Judeo-Christian religions are heavily text-based. I expect you to have read and studied yours well. The longer you’ve been a believer, the better the command of their contents I demand you have. I will cite chapter and verse and I expect the same. If you cite a passage in support of a claim, I expect you to know and explain a passage elsewhere that contradicts it. The Bible is not a book, it is a collection of books written by different people in different places at different times with different conceptions of God. Sometimes they were actively disagreeing (eg. when Matthew and Luke revise Mark). Some things therein might be simply wrong. If you want to assert flat-out that there are no errors in the Bible or that all its books are trying to say the same thing, you have an uphill battle ahead of you. (This approach to Biblical interpretation smacks of ret-conning to me; See #4, paragraph 2.)

If you believe something that is not supported by the Bible or the doctrines of the religion you purport to follow, then admit what you are doing: inventing your own religion. I don’t have a problem with this, but realize that in so doing you are actually rejecting the very thing you are trying to justify. A divine revelation that needs to be periodically revised by subsequent revelations and/or re-interpreted by Man isn’t much of a revelation in the first place nor is it therefore the objective foundation of wisdom it is claimed to be.

The relevant events in your religion happened at certain times and places in certain cultures. Are you well acquainted with such context? Are you familiar with the scholarly consensus on the key aspects of your sacred texts and their history? Not just from fundamentalist scholars with whom you agree, but the wider community of scholarship including secular scholars. Because I am. I am usually in the process of reading such a book at all times. If I have more information on the subject than you, what do you expect to say that I will find worth considering?

6. I’ve read your books, have you read mine?

If one gives answer before hearing, it is folly and shame. — Prov. 18:13

I have studied the Bible and its history closely. I have fully participated in the religious tradition and culture of my upbringing. I have attended a Christian college, studied Koine Greek, and sought to learn the bulk of what is taught at any decent seminary. I have tried to see the issues from all sides, not just the one I was indoctrinated into, and my study has reflected this. In short, I have invested literally years of my life into the earnest investigation of the world view I inherited. Not just doing devotions and attending church—investigating with dedication the basis for my truth claims. You better be able to say the same. Have you read or studied any view that contradicts your own in any depth whatever?

What’s more, can you say the same about my books? If you know me, you know I value books very highly. I’ve read the books you value. (There are 66 in the Bible alone.) Can you even name a few books I value highly? If so, did you bother to read any? I named my first-born son after an author important to me. Have you read anything Ralph Waldo Emerson ever wrote? I’ve put in the work to understand your view and I’ve earned the right to comment on it. Can you say the same to me?

To this end, below are some suggestions of books that I can say fairly represent my thoughts on various things, grouped roughly in the genres that one finds in the Bible. Some of these are my personal favorites (marked with *), some are just good summaries. I look forward to having a truly reciprocal dialogue with you but I won’t come to you. You can come to me, and bring these six tips with you.

A suggested reading (and viewing) list

† I’ve taken the liberty of using the term “gospel” in this context to denote narratives away from religion.

‡ Denotes video.