Word Nerd Wednesday: Bookish Words Edition

This blog was born of the fact that I am a bibliophile. Ever since I was a child, I have loved to read. This site has been low on book reviews of late, however. That isn’t because I’m not reading. It’s because I’m reading about a particular topic to the exclusion of all else in preparation for a class I’ll be teaching in the upcoming school year. I pondered reviewing the books here and decided that posting numerous reviews of scholarly books on the history of Florida is a surefire way to run off the few readers I have left.

As I contemplated the irony of a bibliophile’s book review blog with very few reviews, I began wondering about interesting words that define various aspects of being a booklover. There are actually three that I’d never heard of, so I thought I’d share them here.

Abibliophobia: The fear of running out of things to read.

This word had to have been evolved before the advent of mass printing. I have never feared running out of things to read. On the contrary, if I have a fear at all in this regard, it’s more in the vein of, “I’ll never be able to read all the things I want to read before I die!”

Biblioklept: A person who steals books

This one made me chuckle. Unless it’s a rare or expensive book that can be sold for profit, are there any people in our current culture whose preferred version of kleptomania is books? Very Interesting! Lastly, but certainly not least, we have:

Bibliopole: A person who buys and sells books, especially rare ones.

I like this one. One of the things we have done from time to time is look at online calssified sites for books. On more than one occasion, there are people selling very old books that belong to their parents or grandparents. It’s a fun excursion.

Do you have any bookish words to share? Please do so!

In Other’s Words: A Referendum on American Education

It’s been a long while since I featured anything from the prolific and insightful Joshua Gibbs, so we’re overdue for some of his wit.

He recently posted “If Children Answered Questions Like Adults Being Interviewed on NPR“. Because NPR is the self-styled radio station for the cultured, more educated intelligensia, I have re-interpreted his post as a referendum on American education. A few of the examples he gives:

Mrs. Grady: Class, what is 9 divided by 3? Lucas?

Lucas (7): Absolutely. Yeah. So, 3?

Dad: Did you call your sister a ‘puke sandwhich’ and hit her in the face with the Happy Pumper?

Elijah (5): Sure. So, no.

Mr. Ogleby: Alright, my little biologists. First review question from yesterday’s lesson: Is the nucleus “the powerhouse of the cell”?

Harper (9): So, I love that you asked this question. I feel like I want to say, ‘No.’

He has a couple more examples over at his original post, but you get the point. We are a culture saying more than we have ever said, while simulataneously saying nothing. Perhaps it’s more accurate to say that we say very little with clarity of meaning or courage of conviction. Either way, what you end up with is a lot of noise.

At the same time, we are supposedly the most educated people to have ever walked the face of the earth.

In case you haven’t noticed, something has gone terribly wrong.

Word Nerd Wednesday: Sanguinary

I am currently reading a book which is much more scholarly than entertaining. It’s titled Exiles in Florida, and was written in 1858.

In it, I ran across the word sanguinary, which I was able to define on my own using context clues. However, it was the first time I can remember encountering it. So here goes.

Sanguinary:

1: bloodthirsty, murderous sanguinary hatred

2 : attended by bloodshed : bloody this bitter and sanguinary war

3 : consisting of blood

It’s been a while since I did one of these so I hope it was educational to someone!

Until next time…

Quotable Literary Quotes: P.G. Wodehouse

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P.G. Wodehouse is one of my favorite humorist authors; always sure to make me chuckle when I can really use good laugh. This is one of those seasons. His quotes are equal parts insightful and funny. Here are just a few:

~”Woman is the unfathomable, incalculable mystery, the problem that we men can never hope to solve.”

~“And she’s got brains enough for two, which is the exact quantity the girl who marries you will need.”

~“The voice of Love seemed to call to me, but it was a wrong number.”

~“He had just about enough intelligence to open his mouth when he wanted to eat, but certainly no more.”

That last one gets me every time! Happy Tuesday.

The Case for Classical Education, pt. 2

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After hitting a creative block in my quest to resume the discussion contrasting classical education with the trajectory of modern education, Brandeis University offered a spark of inspiration. While I would love to say that there are exciting, educationally beneficial things happening at Brandeis and I want to share them, the exact opposite is the case. The college has displayed a striking and inexcusable level of ignorance and indifference to the truth in their quest for diversity, inclusion, and equity (DIE for short). From the New York Post’s Brandeis warns students not to use “picnic”, “rule of thumb”, calls words “oppressive”:

A compendium of “potentially oppressive language” posted on the school’s website by its Prevention, Advocacy and Resource Center also lists loads of examples of “gender exclusive,” “ableist,” and “culturally appropriative” terminology that “can get in the way of meaningful dialogue.”

Anyone who has been paying attention for the past few years is well aware of the ongoing assault on language as a way of reshaping reality. We’ve discussed it here at least once before. This isn’t a new development. To call George Orwell’s 1984 prophetic is no exaggeration.

The most striking point of interest to me in this piece was the supposed racist origins of the word “picnic”. Long ago, since first learning the word’s etymology, I thought I knew that “picnic” was derived from the French term “piqué-nique” which refers to eating a small, informal meal , mostly consisting of hors d’oeuvres, outdoors. It turns out, according to the sensitivity and diversity police at Brandeis, that the word picnic was all about picking [negroes] to lynch for entertainment while having a nice meal outside in the park. Imagine my surprise!

According to the Oppressive Language List, the word picnic “has been associated with lynching of Black people in the United States, during which white spectators were said to have watched while eating.” A suggested alternative is “outdoor eating”.

It was the stunning level of historical ignorance and deception combined with educational malpractice, which reminded me of what I wanted to say here. This is why our family has decided that a classical education, one built on the great literature and ideas of the Western canon is far superior to this ever evolving language of nothingness, increasingly decoupled from any sense of reality.

While our current education system builds curriculum and constructs ideas on the shifting sands of postmodern ideology, the great books, literature of those who have gone before, tell a human story. While the great books are written off as relics of white supremacy penned by old white men, the reality is that some of the greatest black thinkers and activists in American history drew on these classics as a foundation for their ideas. Dr. Anika Prather, whose work I am only beginning to explore, makes an excellent case for why the great books of the western canon are for everyone:

Great Books, Prather said, “tell the human story.” She spoke with passion about how many famous people of color throughout history used the Great Books to further their goals and ideas. Activist Huey P. Newton, she pointed out, taught himself to read using Plato’s Republic—a text paid special attention to during freshman year at St. John’s—and as a result, Newton’s way of thinking was highly influenced by the thoughts and ideas of Plato. Studying the Great Books, Prather says, shouldn’t—and can’t—be only for a select few.

One author who particularly inspires Prather is Frederick Douglass. Douglass taught himself to read while still a slave, an action expressly forbidden. Once he learned to read, however, literacy became his “polaris.” His first book was The Columbian Orator, an anthology of excerpts from many of the Great Books. “By using the literature of the master,” said Prather, “he allowed these books to somehow unchain his mind well before he unchained his body from the bonds of slavery.”

In other words, even the lowliest and most genuinely oppressed people in past societies recognized the truths of liberation and human excellence. If we want to see our children educated in a way which extols the good, the true, and the beautiful, it will not happen in the context of the current governmental education model. The current model is increasingly about division, discontent, and discordant thinking masquerading as enlightenment.

Great literature doesn’t have to tell my story to be great or worthy of reading. Although it sometimes does tell my story, I need not see myself personified to gain a better understanding of the universal human experience. In fact, one might argue that seeing the similarity of the struggle and questions of life in those different from us expands our innate compassion and sense of humanity. One of my cardinal saying is (as far as I know, I can self-attribute the verbiage if not the sentiment): Humanity is a shared experience. If I have experienced it, it for sure and certain that someone else has too.

I am finally going to finish The Brothers Karamazov this summer. A 19th century Russian novelist had the ability to reach across time and space to connect with me in the 21st century. What does Dostoevsky have to say to an American woman of African descent? What principles, insights of human nature and matters of the heart could he possibly have to share with me? Plenty, it turns out:

The world says: “You have needs — satisfy them. You have as much right as the rich and the mighty. Don’t hesitate to satisfy your needs; indeed, expand your needs and demand more.” This is the worldly doctrine of today. And they believe that this is freedom. The result for the rich is isolation and suicide, for the poor, envy and murder.”

How timely a quote from a book published in 1879! Ideas grounded in truth do not change with the times, which is why the work of Dostoevsky, Jane Austen, Aristotle, and Thomas Aquinas still resonate with us centuries after their authors put ink to paper.

We dismiss these great and enduring works of human connection at our peril.

I hope, next week, to continue this exploration of classical education, its importance, and how we can revive it for the sake of the next generation.