More Books Than Sense

(just a small section of my bookshelves)

The ever-excellent Barbican bookshop - of my favourite local emporia - has recently acquired a whole swathe of second-hand International Critical Commentaries, including (as luck would have it) Robertson and Plummer's 2nd Corinthians. Needless to say at a mere £6, I snapped it up. I also spotted the Plummer-only 1st Corinthians nestling alongside and was about to add that to my basket when I just couldn't remember whether I already possessed that one or had only borrowed it from the library in the dim-and-distant days of my undergrad final year. So, pausing a moment, I tried to picture my bookshelf: I knew that I had Fee's First Corinthians, a number of Galatians commentaries (inc. Lightfoot and Betz - remnants of my MA year where it was easier to buy than run up overdue charges and chance someone else requesting them), books on Pauline theology, Lightfoot' Philippians, Colossians and Philemon, other ICC's - OT and NT; Proverbs, Isaiah vol.1,Matthew, John, Thessalonians, Phil&Philem, Hebrews, Pastorals and both volumes of Revelations...but could I remember if I had 1st Corinthians? No, I could not. Guessing that there probably would not be a run on them overnight, I went home and made an inventory. No 1st Corinthians in sight, so this morning saw me add it to my collection. What a sad case!

I have to admit that they are pretty ancient - 1st Cor. published in 1911 and 2nd Cor. a 1925 reprint - but to say that the oldest is nearly 100 years old, in fine condition. Looking at some of the more recently produced books in my possession, and particularly at the new Oxford or Bristol Classical texts (not cheap!) with their photocopy-quality pages and glued spines, I'm fairly certain that they will not be doing the rounds a century hence. The quality of books today is appalling: I'm sure I'm not the first old reactionary to say this, nor will I be the last. During my earlier years of Greek study I bought the Pocket Oxford Classical Greek Dictionary because it was one of the few Greek dictionaries with the English to Greek section essential for prose composition. It didn't even weather the degree years, the middle leaves coming loose at the end of the second semester. What on earth is the good of a poorly-made dictionary? A book that will almost certainly see heavy use, lots of back-and-forth page turning? I had to stump up for the middle Liddell, a vast improvement, and when I got truly serious, the Big One, which is still giving good service.

Tired but Happy

Well, Rome WAS lovely and we managed to pack a lot in our two days. The weather was merciful in that the rain occurred mostly during the hours of darkness (except for a magnificent thunderstorm while we were sat on the steps of San Francesco in Ripa, waiting for it to open), and the temperature was pleasantly mild. Highlights? Apart from the usual stuff (Trevi Fountain, Colosseum, Pantheon, Piazza Navona, Spanish Steps etc.) I really enjoyed exploring the Mithraeum under San Clemente, going up the new panoramic lift at Il Vittoriano (staggeringly good views) and some new churches in Trastevere. We'd not really explored that side of the Tiber before - last time we ventured into it it felt a bit 'other' so we'd scuttled back over the river. This time however, armed with an itinerary and opening times we boldly strode through the winding streets and were utterly entranced by the area. Santa Maria in Trastevere had the most wonderful mosaic apse that easily rivalled (when we fed 50 centys into the metered light) those of Santa Prassede and San Clemente. San Francesco in Ripa housed Bernini's 'Ecstasy of the Blessed Ludovica Albertoni' and in the basilica of Santa Cecilia in Trastevere we saw Maderno's marble recreation of the saint's remains (see photo). Diligent searching ensured that we enjoyed some excellent meals at the oldest pizzeria in Rome (on the via Genova), La Gallina Bianca off the via Torino and La Fontanella Sistina (via Sistina off Piazza Barberini) where our rather grumpy wait for a table was rewarded with the finest tiramisu ever tasted. Tazza d'Oro just off the Piazza Navona provided a reviving caffe corretto. A tour of St Peter's (up the cupola, down into the crypt) was, of course, mandatory. A wander up and down the via Veneto ended in the atmospheric ossuary of the Capuccins at Santa Maria della Concezione - a sobering reminder of mortality. An unpleasantly early start Saturday morning (5am) saw us trudging up to Termini to catch the Leonardo Express to Fiumcino, and our early (and rather turbulent) flight saw us back in the UK by half-ten.

Exhaustion caught up later in the day: sitting slack-jawed in front of the telly heads started nodding in the very early evening. Bed summoned by 8.30pm.

Rome in October

The OU Latin course is now over so I am free to concentrate on other studies. I have to say I really enjoyed engaging with Book 2 of Virgil's Aeneid on a line-by-line basis - it took me back to my (very happy) undergrad days. You can't beat teasing apart the fibres of language as a method of understanding how it works. The past week has been largely spent sitting in my study (in the sunny bit if possible) and working my way through Michael Morris's introduction to the Philosophy of Language (see my 'Metalepsis' blog). I am conscious that half-term is once again looming ever closer which means, study-wise, a week up on blocks. Still, I am far from despondent as we are all travelling to Rome for a short break. Fantastic! I can't wait - there are a few things I am determined to schedule, including a visit to the church of San Clemente which not only has some marvellous mosaics, but sits above a well-preserved Mithraic temple. We've only managed to get into it once before, Roman opening times being what they are, so I want to go back with the children and give them a real sense of how history builds on, and absorbs, what has gone before. The Mithraic religion is enthrallingly gory, and the shadowy subterranean tunnels echo with the rushing of a nearby river. Or possibly drain - I'm not sure which. High on the kids' agenda is the Colosseum ('only from the outside', I cautioned, having coughed up the exorbitant entry fee last time), possibly the ossuary at Sta Maria della Concezione, where the bones of the Capucin friars have been used to create an atmospheric memento mori, and the Trevi Fountain (by day and by night). Other definites on our list are: climbing St Peter's dome (which will necessitate an early start) an espresso in the Tazza D'Oro coffee shop near the Piazza Navona (best coffee anywhere) and Stas Maria and Cecilia in Trastevere, which we've never got round to visiting before. Rome in the Autumn is glorious if the weather is sunny - the walk along the Tiber, kicking the russet leaves, is simply beautiful. And what better way to celebrate my fiftieth birthday - in a beautiful city surrounded by the people I love.

'Mens Sana in Corpore Sano'

The pleasant sunny weather has sparked a resurgent interest in 'going to the gym', an activity that had become rather sidelined since the summer holidays. I had been on maintenance routine i.e. only going when I was being nagged by either children or spouse, the former to accompany them to an organised class (sadly, not the boy since the fractured wrist footie incident); the latter probably because he fears the return of my whale-like state that accompanied my final undergrad/MA years. Well today I went, and I really enjoyed it! I suppose that the endorphins had kicked in, because I've felt really healthy and motivated for the remainder of the day.

The combination of physical and intellectual activity is one that the ancient world understood well 'mens sana in corpore sano' etc. So now I've got over the initial reluctance to down pen, I'm going to make a commitment to keep going on a (more) regular basis. If I go first thing in the morning after the school/dog run, it'll scarcely impact on my working day. Plus all that oxygenated blood should do my mental processes a world of good. I ought to add that the husband made it quite clear that further self-funding of the PhD rested on me keeping myself fit and healthy, so pass me that dumb-bell!

A Full Timetable = Bliss

I have returned to the fray with renewed enthusiasm for study - the Summer's ennui and uncertainty forgotten as I happily bury myself in a drift of PDFs and books to be read. As usual I am approaching the topic in my usual centripetal fashion; reading the background and the tangential before homing in on the core material. This year the background stuff is pretty intimidating; Philosophy of Language followed by a general study of linguistics. It's certainly far more demanding than anything I have tackled before, but the nature of doctoral study demands that. I am cheered on by the way that previously totally alien concepts (eg referrents, propositional attitude constructions, Sinn und Bedeutung) are gradually gelling to such an extent in my mind that I am returning to Steven Pinker's excellent 'The Stuff of Thought' and realising that I understand his writing at a much deeper level.

Other projects include the acquisition of some ability to read German (at my supervisor's behest) and some Syriac-Aramaic. The former is quite easy to fulfil and to that end I am plunging into an introductory grammar - I can recall quite a bit from my pre-'O'-level years. The latter is proving somewhat more of a challenge: Syriac grammars are harder to come by. Trawling the internet, I chanced upon a slim (very slim) volume that proved to be the product of self-publication: interesting but doesn't quite fill the brief. The textbook suggested by one of my new contacts looks promising (Robinson's Paradigms and Exercises in Syriac Grammar by J F Coakley 5th Ed. 2005 since you ask), but is rather expensive and I don't think I'll find anyone to buy it for my upcoming Big Birthday. I believe it is in the uni library, but since I'm not down there until early December, I'll have to make do with mix-and-match sources. Having done some Biblical Hebrew I am not anticipating too many problems once I actually get started......

Also being read at the moment is E Randolph Richard's 'Paul and First Century Letter Writing': most enjoyable but pads out the kernel of what we know with more than a modicum of invention. And this is a problem that I am encountering again and again in the field of Biblical scholarship: hard-core facts are few and far-between and the temptation to 'join the dots' with well-intentioned but ultimately unprovable supposition (obviously by its very nature supposition is a form of fantasy). This is where the confessional scholar has the advantage over the the other sort. Many of them (and I must emphasise by NO MEANS ALL of them) feel quite at liberty -nay, almost compelled - to fill the interstices between known facts with what they think must have been the case or explain mysterious discrepancies by invoking mystery. In the same way Channel 5 documentaries blithely move from 'could have' to 'would have' to 'did' within the space of their allotted hour, covering measly facts with a veil of interesting fallacy. Whereas I would feel quite at home grabbing the programme makers by the scruff of the neck and demanding evidence, I note that there is a tendency to fight shy of forcing the well-intentioned evangelical (or member of any other denomination) into a corner to explain him/herself! This comedy of manners is quite amusing, but ultimately leads to two discrete fields of scholarship that to the uninitiated (like me) are not always discernable at first sight.

Pastures New

Well - Induction Day on Monday went a lot more smoothly than I had anticipated. I tend to such days as a procession of hurdles that need to be successfully overcome. First, Train No1 was waiting in the station in the chilly 6am light....the computerised reservation system had failed so it was rather difficult to locate the correct carriage, let alone the right seat. The cross-country line is slow and there are regular stops along the way so journey No1 took three hours. Train No2 runs at approximately 15 minute intervals and arrived within a very short space of time so that I managed to disembark at my destination at 9.25. That left me 5 minutes to complete the 15 minute walk up to the department, but academia running as it does, I arrived in time to make myself a cup of lousy coffee before we were shepherded across the hall for the usual meet and greet stuff that makes up these things. It concluded with gratifying alacrity and I managed to have a few words with Academic Supervisor No2 before walking back downhill to the branch line station where I travelled one stop up the line to the main campus. It's rather a pleasant green-ish space surrounded by utilitarian brick-built units and a couple of remnants from the age of successful Victorian enterprise (the Great Hall and an enormously tall clock tower that seems to act as a giant sundial). Obtaining my student ID card I made my way (after a fairly decent latte) to the library that smelt....oooh....like books! I found a few useful volumes and, having checked them out, proceeded to lunch on a baked spud and coleslaw. Early afternoon I had my first meeting with my PhD supervisor: it went very well, and I think that we should be able to work together excellently. Having discussed targets and arranged the next session, I made my way back to the branch-line station ...but not before I'd checked out the on-site Waterstones and made an appropriately reduced-price purchase courtesy of my new student card! Finding myself with a few spare minutes at the main station, I had another hot drink and waited in relative comfort in the passenger lounge before boarding the 16:30 home. I eventually arrived back at our house at 7.30pm, much to the excitement of the dog, who'd been wondering where I'd been all day.

The upshot to all this is that the things that I had worried about prior to the event didn't trouble me: I pushed through the 'comfort zone' and am pretty sure that next time I won't feel anything like as apprehensive. Success.

Ageing and Nervousness

Next Monday I have to go for the post-graduate induction meeting at my new university. I have to admit that I have got beyond the excitement of having a new pencil case and freshly sharpened pencils and am now feeling downright apprehensive about the whole business! I am not very good at spontaneous conversation with people I don't know very well and my mental processes tend to grind to a halt when confronted with a question that I was not expecting: I go red and stammer away incoherently. God knows what'll happen if someone asks me to sum up my PhD proposal in a room full of people! I'll probably implode....

I recognise that as I get older I am becoming less initially confident in unexplored situations, and sometimes I have to force myself to push through my 'comfort zone' and do stuff that I'm not feeling too positive about. In fact it seems to be a widespread symptom of aging: The unwillingness to engage is possibly a biologically programmed mechanism to protect the elderly (and hence more vulnerable) from 'risky' situations, and it makes me wonder if the old folks who lead solitary unengaged lives are not so much deliberately excluded or ignored by others as imposing restrictions on social involvement upon themselves.

Just as muscles ache and protest at unaccustomed exercise, and the mind atrophies through lack of stimulus, so the social persona withers unless exposed to new social situations. Often an opportunity is greeted (either internally or actually) with 'No, I don't feel like it'. This excuse must be rigorously examined and teased apart until the fibres of the true reason can be seen. Quite often the fear of failure or humiliation is a factor in rejecting an invitation or an opening. The thought that we may be exposed to scrutiny is quite daunting, especially if our confidence in our physical appearance or intellectual capacity is waning. But we owe it to ourselves to push out the comfort zone, do things we maybe feel unsure about, because if we start to say 'no' to life our world starts to contract bit by bit until we are the folk sitting fearfully alone at home. If I can keep doing new things, experiencing new situations and meeting new people, maybe I can keep the 'shrinking world' at bay: There are, out there, some wonderful, really old people and despite their wildly different backgrounds, what unites them is their unafraid zest for life. I want to be like that and, however hard it seems to be to get out there and live, I'm going to make it a priority to accept any opportunities that come my way. Moreover, I intend to make my own opportunities, as I have been doing for the past few years. Aging? 99% in the mind!