Category: Fleming

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Mr. Autodidact’s Poem(s) of the Week

First is a sonnet by Tennyson, not one of his best, perhaps, but indicating his distaste for professional critics and men of letters: Poets and Their Bibliographies Old poets foster’d under friendlier skies, Old Virgil who would write ten lines, they say, At dawn, and lavish all the golden day To make them wealthier in the readers’ eyes; And you, old popular Horace, you the wise Adviser of the nine-years-ponder’d lay, And you, that wear a wreath of sweeter bay, Catullus, whose dead songster never dies; If, glancing downward on the kindly sphere That once had roll’d you round and round...

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Mr. Autodidact’s Reading List: English Literature (Update 2 May)

Absolutely Essential Classics of English and American Literature for Readers from 12 to…. These works have been chosen partly for their literary excellence but even more because they were, until recently, taken for granted, as part of our common Anglo-American heritage.  This first version, which will be expanded from time to time, is only a sketch, and the omission of some beloved classic may be due to an oversight or a decision to include the work in a subsequent list.  If the list is somewhat boring and predictable, it is because I have left off many of my favorite writers,...

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The Face on the Barroom Coin

The Good News [from Matthew 22]: And they sent out unto him their disciples with the Herodians, saying…Tell us therefore, What thinkest thou? Is it lawful to give tribute unto Caesar, or not?  But Jesus perceived their wickedness, and said, Why tempt ye me, ye hypocrites?  Shew me the tribute money. And they brought unto him a penny. And he saith unto them, Whose is this image and superscription?  They say unto him, Caesar’s. Then saith he unto them, Render therefore unto Caesar the things which are Caesar’s; and unto God the things that are God’s.  When they had heard...

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Live Until You Die (on the house)

This is an improved version of an essay first published in 1999 “I grow old learning many things,” said Solon, a poet well-known for his wisdom and for his longevity: He lived to be almost 80.  Although, as my old teacher Douglas Young pointed out, Solon’s statement might be interpreted to mean “too much education makes one prematurely old,” the point is clear enough and as true today as it was 2400 years ago when the Athenian poet-statesman lived long enough to see his beloved city acquiesce in the rule of a tyrant: A wise man never ceases to learn new...

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We’ll Hang Donald Trump From a Sour Apple Tree

The irrepressible Donald Trump has once again embarrassed his supporters by blurting out the first silly response that floated through what passes for his mind.  When Chris Matthews asked the candidate who would be punished if abortion were recriminalized, Trump did not–as he should have–refuse to discuss any hypothetical question; he did not even use the rabbinical trick of turning the tables on Matthews, asking what the hack “thought” about the matter.  No, without giving the subject a moment’s thought, Trump blurted out the gaffe that has gone round the world.  If abortion were made a crime, then the perpetrators—including the pregnant...

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Christ Is Risen

Anything I might have to say on this most blessed day of the year would be at best superfluous.  I do, however,  want to draw attention to the beautiful collect in the Old Mass.  Many of these prayers are capable of inspiring a good deal of reflection, if we pause a moment to consider them: Deus qui hodierna die per Unigenitum tuum, aeternitatis nobis aditum, devincta morte reserasti,  vota nostra, quae praeveniendo aspiras, etiam adjuvando prosequere.  Per eundem Dominum etc.  This is  Englished in various ways, but this version, drawn from the Father Lasance Missal, puts the gist of it...

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The Tower of Skulls On the House

The day before the Easter we celebrate in the West, my thoughts go out to Christians in the East who once endured the horror of Islamic rule.  I wrote this piece in September 2001, and it was published  n December.   “You’ve never been to Nish?!”  My friend was incredulous.  How can someone who has traveled, it sometimes seems, every inch of Montenegro, Bosnia, and Kosovo, not have found the time to go to Nish?  The lady is far from being a local chauvinist, but when I first met her and asked (as I had been taught by a Belgrader) if...