PAN has started a new series (hopefully) of “dialogs” – several editors, over audio, discussing certain issues. The particular issue here is a perennial favorite of the PANers. John Ahern, Philip Hilton, James McCord, and Nick Embrey all discussed Scriptural infallibility for about 2 hours. This is the (largely) unedited recording of what we came up with.
Here are the links to the mp3 files of the discussion.
John R. Ahern writes a set of haiku about the Matter of Britain,
long fingers of trees
poking our eyes, and beetles—
near love, said Yvain
John Ahern writes,
In reading some of the fairy tales of both the Grimms, Anderson, and various others, one salient feature of a great many of them is this concept of the Forbidden Fruit. A Forbidden Fruit is something irresistibly desirable for little better reason than that it is forbidden. It isn’t an impulse based in the usual human desires, psychological, physical, or otherwise, but simply an impulse to do something because it’s off limits.
Regina Bertilson yammers obsessively,
I wrote this analytical review of the book Ender’s Shadow last fall. If John still has that ridiculous limit on words, well, Psha to him. He deserves a Psha anyways. If you haven’t read Ender’s Shadow (and/or Ender’s Game), I would recommend that you do before reading this, as I spoil a good many things in the story. If you have read the books, well, I hope this will give you more of an understanding of the book. Also, expect more analysis from me in the future. I may analyze an episode or two of Star Trek, since they provide very good material for pondering upon and discussing.
In the summer of 2008, the Spanish parliament granted legal rights to apes, criminalizing their use in circuses or television commercials. The director of the “Great Apes Project” claims that “we are seeking to break the species barrier — we are just the point of the spear.” Such a claim is more than mildly disturbing. But equally disturbing, if not more so, are the many stories of the involuntary euthanasia of human beings who are simply sick or old. What has happened to our world? Apes are given rights, the “species barrier” is eroded, and humans are murdered in ever increasing numbers. Where will this end?
Laura Russell muses,
Sophocles’ play Philoctetes is a gripping piece: but exactly whose story does it tell? Identifying the protagonist in this complicated drama has proven a challenging task. In order to do so, I would like to first define the term “protagonist” in two subcatagories – abstract, and dramatic. These definitions clarify the roles of Philoctetes and Neoptolemus and supply a framework for the analysis of these roles. View Full Post
Mark DenHoed writes,
I have decided to open up my heart and share the outpourings of my delicate soul.
Xanthus
The blossom of hope,
That glimmer of youth,
Tumble down the slope
Oh, dear, forsooth!
The blue of the sky,
The wash of the sea,
The fear to soon die,
A shattering plea
An allegory is a story which is specifically symbolic for another story. This broad definition is widely accepted — but the question has arisen: Is a story an allegory only if the author intended it to be so?
There have been two different definitions of “allegory” presented. First: a story which is symbolic for another story, and obviously intended to be so. Second: a story which is apparently symbolic for another story — but whether or not it is actually an allegory depends on reader interpretation. It does have a good deal to do with the author’s intent, however; because it’s difficult to find an underlying symbolic story if the author had absolutely no intention of an allegory. The second definition simply does not limit an allegory to what the author might have intended — since that is arbitrary and often subject to debate — and says rather that calling something an allegory depends more the reader’s interpretation.
John Richard Ahern writes,
Spring
“I will set a sword in every blade of grass to wound them and the very clods of earth shall be venom to their feet…”
I rinsed this morning’s sessile toothpaste from the sink
drowning it with high frequency percussive taps
hitting the ammonia baptized steel with splash
from the arc through three point polished nickel neck.
Philip Hilton scribbles,
Awhile ago I was having a conversation with a friend, and we fell to discussing Emma; upon which she commented that even men liked Mr. Knightley, while most men seemed to dislike Mr. Darcy. At any rate, that is what she said if we translate it from the crude colloquiallisms of our era, into the formal language of this essay, which the present author esteems infinitely, etc, etc. Unfortunately, I am unable at this point to lecture you about the incredible coolness of Victorian English, and shall satisfy myself only with considering, with due formality, why Mr. Knightley appeals to men so much more than Mr. Darcy. That is, in short, the point of this essay. After some rambling, you will get to that painful bit, to which, for the reader’s happiness, I have only devoted a paragraph.
In the first place, we must consider the two in light of their initial and final character. Mr. Darcy, on the one hand, is initially overwhelmingly arrogant, extremely prejudiced, and very impolite. Although at the first reading we may be inclined to pass over his conduct as merely “a bit arrogant”, the fact is that he is loaded with it. When he says, at the ball, that Elizabeth is only “tolerable”, it would, I imagine, be a significant insult. Also, not dancing a single dance with any outside his own party is again, a significant discourtesy. Apart from being told several times that his own friends esteem him highly, and knowing that he has been fair towards Wickham, we nowhere see him in a really good light until after he proposes to Elizabeth.
On the other hand, Mr. Knightley is invariably courteous: he does not consider himself above anybody, although in terms of consequence, he would not be able to marry a Harriet, I am sure. He is about as rich as Darcy, yet not arrogant; and we know that he will eventually unite his estate with Emma’s fortune. Additionally, both men have their good judgment highly spoken of, and it is asserted by Austen in the various ways available to an author.
At the end of the book, Mr. Knightley is largely the same: eternally polite, unchanged in character, and as loving towards Emma as he ever was. Mr. Darcy’s case is quite different.
After being rejected by Elizabeth, he promptly changes his coat completely. Although before worried by the lowness of her connections, he is now perfectly fine with them; before he thought she was too poor to be really worthy of notice; now, apparently, not. Before, he could hardly bear her taunts…actually, that doesn’t change too much. Surprisingly, he is unable to be shocked either by Elizabeth’s connection with Wickham; or, worse, Lydia’s scandal.
All these considerations show one important thing to me: Mr. Darcy is clearly out of his senses; Mr. Knightley is clearly in full possession of his.
Mr. Darcy is foolishly obssessed with Elizabeth, and might not be that happy after marriage in real life, while Mr. Knightley is likely to be perfectly happy, and was more careful (or lucky) in his choice. Of course, one must make allowances for love, which throws us in with some strange people; still, Mr. Darcy’s connection is bad: he connects foolishly with Wickham, he connects badly with Lydia’s scandal, he displeases his relatives, he marries beneath him, etc. All these would be, in my opinion, very excellent reasons to escape from an attachment, not only in Victorian times, but now. And so I really think Mr. Darcy is, in the end, infatuated and slightly stupid.
I shall quickly say that Mr. Darcy’s willingness to change for “his girl” (O Victorians, forgive this colloquiallism!) is annoying to guys, but delightful for girls. Girls love to have “their guy” (:P) change for them. Guys are quite willing to do this while “under the influence” (O! The pain of the vulgarism!), but not otherwise. In short, guys like dignified, serious, heroes (and lovers) and girls don’t mind how bad he is in the beginning if he changes “just for me”. :P
Of course, the more skeptical among you will argue either that guys like Mr. Darcy quite as much as Mr. Knightley; or that girls, like guys, consider Mr. Knightley a superior specimen of lover to Mr. Darcy. Yet ignoring these skeptics, I declare my eternal adoration of and devotion to the Mr. Knightley Fanclub.
