Mo' Dernity, Mo' Problems

The Courage to Be Chaste by Benedict Groeschel

Serious people, such as those who read books on chastity, frequently have an excess of anxiety.

Leisure: The Basis of Culture by Josef Pieper

Coolest soundbite from this book: ancient philosophy begins in wonder; modern philosophy begins in doubt.

Ratio is the power of discursive, logical thought, of searching and of examination, of abstraction, of definition and of drawing conclusions. Intellectus on the other hand, is the name for the understanding in so far as it is the capacity of simplex intuitus, of that simple vision to which truth offers itself like a landscape to the eye.
This reminds of Cardinal Newman's distinction between notional and real assent. Ratio is the distinctively human means of attaining knowledge. We are embodied beings, beings made up of distinct parts. As such, it is natural for us to understand things as being made up distinct parts which are built up into larger structures. Analysis breaks the structure into its parts, deduction and synthesis build up a structure from components. But we are also spiritual beings, and spiritual beings are not made up of distinct parts. Therefore, we are capable of understanding things with direct simplicity.

Overall I found this book very intruiging, but I didn't quite get all of Pieper's arguments. I'm not sure how he arrives at the conclusion that, What is true of celebration is true of leisure: its possibility, its ultimate justification derive from its roots in divine worship. Leisure, for Pieper, means a time of freedom from the utilitarian concerns of the workaday world and an openess to the transcendent. A person who relaxes merely in order to prepare to go back to work is not enjoying leisure at all. But I don't see that there is anything inherintly contradictory in the idea of leisure as an opportunity for men to enjoy communion with one another. I'm not quite sure why Pieper thinks that without divine worship all leisure must degenerate into idleness.

The Secret History by Donna Tartt

I've read it twice so far. The first time around I was mostly just delighted that someone wrote a book that contained a bachanal and made the classics sound exciting. This time I paid more attention to the psychology and social dynamics.

The longest section of the book deals with the question, "How do you feel after you and your friends commit a murder together?" I think Tartt is probably right that after people commit some really huge sin, they don't initially feel any guilt at all. Instead of feeling guilty, they just have a sense of seperation from their crime and from the world in general.