This is prompted by a post (by JMB) in another thread, that mentions Kindle - the electronic book-reader. It seems to me that hard copy books are: founts of knowledge; can become old friends and are, also, "the best furniture". Electronic books will never become any kind of furniture but the Kindle innovation, to make books widely available as founts of knowledge and to become old friends must, overall, be seen as a good thing. As we, increasingly, travel, the ability to take a whole library around with us in a small, light electronic filing system must be a boon, unforeseen at the beginning of my lifetime, when hot metal composition was still the order of the day. What is better: to be lumbered with a tiny selection of one's own books or an airport's selection of paperbacks on a long journey or to be able to dip in and out of a range of works, from Chaucer to Raymond Chandler? My only fear is that space is short in the modern world and, just as the British Museum Reading Room has been stripped of its treasures, there might be a further philistine move to destroy hard copies of books, that have been reduced to electronic format, just to save space.
So far as books as furniture is concerned: Kindle is never going to be up to scratch in terms of smell and feel and familiarity of touch of actual books, but I dread to think where I would be in trying to research anything if it were not for on-line ordering and research facilities; being 7,000 miles away from the most readily accessible depositories of the books and records that I need. Overall, I believe that, in relation to the readier availability of knowledge and information, Kindle must be a positive force.
NJS
Books
Has anyone heard from our fellow member NJS lately? It appears like someone hacked his identity and is posting progressist messages on the LL
I like what you are saying, NJS, and I agree with it. It never crossed my mind that anyone could throw away their books to make room, but I hope that, as fewer books will be printed (if electronic reading devices do catch on and become widespread, which is not the case yet) and they will become increasingly expensive, they will at least be regarded as collectibles and be spared of such a terrible fate.
I like what you are saying, NJS, and I agree with it. It never crossed my mind that anyone could throw away their books to make room, but I hope that, as fewer books will be printed (if electronic reading devices do catch on and become widespread, which is not the case yet) and they will become increasingly expensive, they will at least be regarded as collectibles and be spared of such a terrible fate.
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Nicholas:
As a point of convenience and lightening the load of cumbersome volumes in your carry-on bag, your point is well taken. Speaking of heavyweight reading matter that will knock you sideways, try The Red Book by Carl Jung. Recently released and already in its fifth printing, this gem of a book will excite all the senses. There's a review of it in The New York Times on 12 December 2009, not exactly a deepdish piece, but if there are spiritual and creative pieces in your mind that need a little dusting off, or refreshing, this is a book that will spark your imagination to all kinds of possibilities.
JMB
As a point of convenience and lightening the load of cumbersome volumes in your carry-on bag, your point is well taken. Speaking of heavyweight reading matter that will knock you sideways, try The Red Book by Carl Jung. Recently released and already in its fifth printing, this gem of a book will excite all the senses. There's a review of it in The New York Times on 12 December 2009, not exactly a deepdish piece, but if there are spiritual and creative pieces in your mind that need a little dusting off, or refreshing, this is a book that will spark your imagination to all kinds of possibilities.
JMB
JMB - One of us will certainly consider this book; especially if it is Kindle-friendly.
NJS.
NJS.
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Nicholas:
My understanding is that Kindle is limited to black-and-white text only. The Red Book by Carl Jung has numerous illustrations, not least Mandelas and other Tibetan imagery that are a feast for the eyes
and give you an insight into Jung's mindset. Never mind Freud and his goofy notion that it was all mother's fault. It's little wonder that Jung and Freud parted company on less than amicable terms. Seeing his pet notion of psychoanalysis fail, Freud in his later years resorted to using drugs on his patients, including cocaine in mild solutions, hence the practice that persists today of psychiatrists writing prescriptions for their patients--mild dosages that if doubled or tripled up turn lethal enough to drop a thoroughbred in its tracks.
Jung took another path, far more spiritual and imaginative. Some call it a journey to the east, others call it an adventure of the soul. However you choose to describe it, it changes you dramatically. That's why people have searched for years to find the elusive Red Book. Just when you thought Jung's book was a myth, it turns up in a stunning facsimile. At $195USD, it's a bit dear, but this book is a keeper. I can think of only one other book as a companion on your journey, The Way of the White Clouds by Lama Govinda. Not sure if it's still in print. Try the Boutee Tree Bookshop in Los Angeles or Abe's Books.
JMB
My understanding is that Kindle is limited to black-and-white text only. The Red Book by Carl Jung has numerous illustrations, not least Mandelas and other Tibetan imagery that are a feast for the eyes
and give you an insight into Jung's mindset. Never mind Freud and his goofy notion that it was all mother's fault. It's little wonder that Jung and Freud parted company on less than amicable terms. Seeing his pet notion of psychoanalysis fail, Freud in his later years resorted to using drugs on his patients, including cocaine in mild solutions, hence the practice that persists today of psychiatrists writing prescriptions for their patients--mild dosages that if doubled or tripled up turn lethal enough to drop a thoroughbred in its tracks.
Jung took another path, far more spiritual and imaginative. Some call it a journey to the east, others call it an adventure of the soul. However you choose to describe it, it changes you dramatically. That's why people have searched for years to find the elusive Red Book. Just when you thought Jung's book was a myth, it turns up in a stunning facsimile. At $195USD, it's a bit dear, but this book is a keeper. I can think of only one other book as a companion on your journey, The Way of the White Clouds by Lama Govinda. Not sure if it's still in print. Try the Boutee Tree Bookshop in Los Angeles or Abe's Books.
JMB
JMB - You have prompted me to read the NYT article on 'The Red Book', called 'The Holy Grail of the Unconscious'. I am not sure that I should dare to read this book. First of all, an eminent horologist recently told me that there is no measure of perfect time. This is, I suppose, self-evident, but we live with (and by) necessary approximations that call into question the very existence of time. If even time cannot be exactly measured, what about: sanity; normality, genius; right and wrong; guilt and innocence; life and death: "do I wake or sleep"? Jung seems to have driven himself beyond the limit to experience madness and this book is the record of it. It makes me feel uncomfortable even to read a challenge to a comfortable acceptance of temporary existence and eventual dissolution.
The second reason that I shy away from the book is that, as a small child, I had a recurring night terror: not a person. creature, demon, devil or even event; it was an unavoidable and unutterable knotted and choking dread, that it took many years to escape and I can still sense it. I am not sure that this is unusual For me, much ordinary activity quietens the onset of this thing that dwelling upon it might provoke.
'The Way of the White Clouds' looks far more cheering, is in print and I shall get a copy - thanks for the recommendation.
NJS
The second reason that I shy away from the book is that, as a small child, I had a recurring night terror: not a person. creature, demon, devil or even event; it was an unavoidable and unutterable knotted and choking dread, that it took many years to escape and I can still sense it. I am not sure that this is unusual For me, much ordinary activity quietens the onset of this thing that dwelling upon it might provoke.
'The Way of the White Clouds' looks far more cheering, is in print and I shall get a copy - thanks for the recommendation.
NJS
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Nicholas:
There's no doubt that Jung was mad, but it was a journey of discovery and exploration and coming to terms with his own inner world. That's not so different from what each of us goes through at various stages of our
lives. Some do it boldly, throwing caution to the wind, while others do it timidly, dipping a toe in the pond and shrinking back for fear of finding out too much about ourselves. Think of Joseph Conrad's Kurtz cry of
"Oh, the horror!" or Dylan Thomas' "Do not go gently into that good night!" Artists, writers, composers and filmmakers have journeyed into madness to better understand creativity. Some made the return trip with a new realization of their own lives and a unique view of the world. It really is a case of taking the road less traveled. No telling what you might find or who you will meet.
For the timid who would prefer to make the journey from a comfy armchair, delve into the writings of
Carl Jung, Lama Govinda and Joseph Campbell. That's living vicariously through the adventures of others, but it might trigger your own exploration. One never knows, do one?
JMB
There's no doubt that Jung was mad, but it was a journey of discovery and exploration and coming to terms with his own inner world. That's not so different from what each of us goes through at various stages of our
lives. Some do it boldly, throwing caution to the wind, while others do it timidly, dipping a toe in the pond and shrinking back for fear of finding out too much about ourselves. Think of Joseph Conrad's Kurtz cry of
"Oh, the horror!" or Dylan Thomas' "Do not go gently into that good night!" Artists, writers, composers and filmmakers have journeyed into madness to better understand creativity. Some made the return trip with a new realization of their own lives and a unique view of the world. It really is a case of taking the road less traveled. No telling what you might find or who you will meet.
For the timid who would prefer to make the journey from a comfy armchair, delve into the writings of
Carl Jung, Lama Govinda and Joseph Campbell. That's living vicariously through the adventures of others, but it might trigger your own exploration. One never knows, do one?
JMB
I have known two people who went mad. The first was, probably, the most brilliant man that I ever met. His madness was caused by a drug that he had been mis-prescribed for TB. He described it as 'a living hell'. He lives on. The second died, at 43 years of age; beautiful, charming, accomplished. She died a miserable, lonely death. I would not encourage anyone to follow their descents into hell, before they have to do so. The death drive (as much as any life force), gusts us along and it is our obligation to accept this and to let ourselves be taken on to it as best we can. That includes being as well-behaved and as well-dressed as we can be (at all times), to meet the Grim Reaper, who may come for any of us at any time; our leases of life are whimsically granted and just as whimsically called in. The rest is vanity. But not all is in vain. "Au fond de tout est le vide, le néant" is one view but what happens to our thoughts; our very bones, afterwards? They do not cease; they continue in some form. They must. The force that we are cannot cease. I am content to console myself with this - and just get on with it. If we fill our time with happily pursued aims, we cannot be undone, before we close our eyes for the last time.
NJS
NJS
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Nicholas:
Well said! I'll second your thought about happily pursuing our aims. It doesn't matter if the pursuits entail writing, painting, sculpting, geology, lapidary and metalsmithing, gardening, photography, filmmaking, lithography, or breeding small furry, feathered, or finned creatures that won't bite the hand that feeds them or hooks them for dinner. If we fill our time with what we're truly passionate about, there's no stopping us. Except for time. What happens to us at the end? I think we become energy--pure energy--and who knows where that leads.
JMB
Well said! I'll second your thought about happily pursuing our aims. It doesn't matter if the pursuits entail writing, painting, sculpting, geology, lapidary and metalsmithing, gardening, photography, filmmaking, lithography, or breeding small furry, feathered, or finned creatures that won't bite the hand that feeds them or hooks them for dinner. If we fill our time with what we're truly passionate about, there's no stopping us. Except for time. What happens to us at the end? I think we become energy--pure energy--and who knows where that leads.
JMB
We suddenly find ourselves a long, long way from Kindle! Many feel doubt about what happens to us but I think that there are some certainties. I have tried to understand the main theories on the origin of the physical universe but I am not sure that I have really succeeded. I see something 'through a glass darkly' but it seems self-evident that everything that exists will continue to exist, even though all is subject to change. When I was a student I worked in a Cornish clay pit for a summer and saw lumps of granite (from which kaolin comes) lying around. Picking it up, I was able to crumble it in my hand! This is because clay comes from decomposed granite. Even that changes. The harder stones: diamond, corundum and topaz don't change so fast and this is part of the reason that they are so valued. The land too endures - until the end of the world anyway and so land attracts a similar attention. It seems to me obvious that our bodies are re-absorbed back into the generality of matter (burned, sunk or buried) and our inner selves must change too. They cannot just cease to exist. Knowing exactly what happens is denied to us but, the older I get the more certain I am that something happens. Shortly after my sister died, I had an experience that I cannot fully describe or explain. I was standing alone in a kitchen and I had the idea that she was embracing me from beyond a barrier that she could not breach but that she could (I think at great effort and, maybe cost), stretch and then she seemed to be propelled away by a great force; as though she had been permitted that and no more. Maybe this was wishful thinking by me, born out of grief; maybe it was just imagination; maybe a kind of temporary insanity or a waking dream but, however unconvincing I might be in persuading anyone else that this happened, so far as I am concerned, it is a part of my own reality - and a solace beyond calculation.
NJS.
NJS.
Very nicely put, Nicholas. Illusory experiences that are the fruit of our imagination don't stay with us too long and, even if we remember them, they are faint and evoke no feelings. Most people have experiences like yours, more or less often in their lives. I believe they are real and part of each individual's own reality, as you wrote. And what is part of each human's reality is, in the end, reality itself for the whole of humanity, even for those few individuals who never experienced that portion of it (yet).storeynicholas wrote:[...]so far as I am concerned, it is a part of my own reality - and a solace beyond calculation.
NJS.
If clothes are concerned with the needs of the body exclusively, elegance (or the strive for it) is an attribute of the spirit, enriching it in a way that goes beyond the immediate materiality of clothes. Balzac writes in his "Treatise on Elegant Living" that, in order to be elegant, one needs to have a beautiful soul. And, unlike our wardrobes, I believe this is something that we take with us when we...
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