This essay is written as a distraction from current events, though I make some reference to them. I am prompted by questions of analogy provoked by
- the similes of Homer and
- a recent theater review in Harper’s that mentions the parables of Jesus.
Turkey has given me a lot. My spouse would be enough; but life in Turkey offers various pleasures, and—for me at least—time to enjoy them. Hard work may be considered a virtue in the United States. Not so in Turkey. I am still driven to do things here, but perhaps only in the way that Thoreau was driven. He was driven to do what he wanted to do. One thing he wanted to do was write as follows.
I sometimes wonder that we can be so frivolous, I may almost say, as to attend to the gross but somewhat foreign form of servitude called Negro Slavery, there are so many keen and subtle masters that enslave both North and South. It is hard to have a Southern overseer; it is worse to have a Northern one; but worst of all when you are the slave-driver of yourself. Talk of a divinity in man! Look at the teamster on the highway, wending to market by day or night; does any divinity stir within him? His highest duty to fodder and water his horses!
For how many Americans is the highest duty to go to work to pay for the car that they drive to work?

Thoreau’s Journal
in the abridgement by Damion Searls
Profesörler Sitesi, Altınova, Balıkesir, Türkiye
Friday, August 28, 2015
See “Thoreau by the Aegean” of the following day
The following notes about the Chronicles of Narnia by C. S. Lewis are from four emails that I wrote in the fall of 2015 (with some noted additions in the spring of 2020 and some additional editing on November 25, 2021). The emails rebut various objections to the Narnia books. I have put my emails here, because I noticed that a friend on Facebook was wondering whether her daughter was ready to read the Chronicles, or perhaps to be read to from them. I do not wish to write much on Facebook, for reasons detailed elsewhere in this blog; so I asked interested persons to read me here.
My explorations continue in “Return to Narnia.”
This essay – these notes for an essay, this draft of an essay – is inspired by Robert Pirsig’s first book. I have made sectional divisions where they seemed to occur naturally.
Between the composing of parts 1 and 2 of this account came the death of Prince, whose work had inspired Rain the Color of Blue with a Little Red in It. Between the composing of parts 2 and 3 came the release of the four Turkish peace activists, whose imprisonment had given poignancy to The Demons and The Music of Strangers. There is a certain absurdity associated with each event.
Nikkyô Niwano, Shakyamuni Buddha: A Narrative Biography
(Tokyo: Kôsei Publishing Co., 1980; fifth printing, 1989)
On the cover, a modern copy by Ryûsen Miyahara,
owned by Risshô Kôsei-kai, of
“The Nirvana of the Buddha,”
painted in 1086 and owned by temple Kongôbu-ji,
Wakayama Prefecture, Japan
This is about the 1918 trial of American radical political cartoonist Art Young and others for conspiracy and interfering with enlistment. Most of the article is a quotation of Young’s own words. The words provide some perspective on today’s struggle for freedom of speech.

Capitalism,
Art Young, private collection (reproduced in Harper’s, Jan 2016, p. 64)
In a session of the 1986–7 senior laboratory at St John’s College in Santa Fe, for reasons that I do not recall, our tutor asked us students whether we had any heroes: for it was said that young people of the day no longer had heroes. None of the students at the table named a hero. I myself refrained from telling how I had once named a hero, when asked to do so in a high-school French class. This hero was the Buddha.
In recent times, I have listed my favorite writers as Somerset Maugham, Robert Pirsig, and R.G. Collingwood. I might add Charlotte Brontë and Mary Midgley to the list. I cannot add the Buddha, because he is not a writer. If my list were of writers and thinkers, I still could not add the Buddha: I cannot know him or any other thinker well enough, except through his own writing. But now I would add Henry David Thoreau. Continue reading
Does consciousness have a “physical basis” or “material basis”? I am provoked by the suggestion that it does; for the question itself is misleading, if not simply meaningless.
In the September, 2014, issue of Harper’s magazine, Edward O. Wilson begins an essay called “On Free Will” with the following paragraph.
Here are some books that I have read more times than I can remember.
The years of my first readings were 1987, 1984, and 1982, respectively, as best I can remember; in any case, their order is opposite to the order of publication.
I want to say some things about the books and their writers. I intend especially to address the last book, which I shall call ZAMM. From Pirsig’s more recent book, Lila, I mention only the author’s description of keeping notes on slips of paper, then arranging and rearranging them, in hopes that he might finally produce a book out of them. The present article might be considered as a collection of such notes, not necessarily forming a coherent whole. There are more notes that I might add in future.
While I was in high school, I paid the price of three dollars and thirty-three cents (plus tax) for the peculiar purple book in square format called Be Here Now. I suppose the title can be taken as a summation of the spiritual advice contained in the book. This advice is apparently derived mainly from Hinduism, though given to us by an American once called Richard Alpert, who spent a lot of time taking LSD with Timothy Leary. After I had gone off to read Great Books at St John’s College in Annapolis in 1983, and transferred to Santa Fe after a year, I learned that the Director of Laboratories on the occidental campus had lived at a sort of monastery or commune, elsewhere in New Mexico, supported by sales of Be Here Now.
The book ends with lists of recommended reading, headed with the warning, “Painted cakes do not satisfy hunger.” There are three lists:
The “books to hang out with” are thirty-five authors and teachers and scriptures. Those that I have on my own shelves are the Bhagavad Gita, the Holy Bible, the Tibetan Book of the Dead, the Tao Te Ching, the I Ching, and the poems of Hafiz. I have not really hung out with any of these, except maybe parts of the Bible and the Tao Te Ching (the latter in the 1972 translation of Gia-Fu Feng and Jane English, illustrated with Chinese calligraphy of the former on lovely spare nature photographs by the latter).
From Be Here Now’s longer list of “books to visit with now and then,” I have read only some of the poetry of Rumi and William Blake, along with Hesse’s Siddhartha, Merton’s Seven Story Mountain, Reps’s Zen Flesh, Zen Bones, Rilke’s Duino Elegies, and Thoreau’s Walden. From the final, longest section, of “books it’s useful to have met,” the works that I have read are a curious mix of mostly science fiction and St John’s College Program books, by Asimov, Bradbury, Castaneda, Dante, Descartes, Heinlein, Milton, Pascal, Plotinus, Plato, Saint-Exupéry, Salinger, and Tolkien.
The three books that I listed at the beginning are among the books that I have hung out with. Let me record here a flaw in my memory concerning one of them. Before checking the lists in Be Here Now, I thought I remembered that The Razor’s Edge was there somewhere, if only among the “books it’s useful to have met”. But it is not there. Since it seems to fit the theme of spiritual journeys, I wonder if its absence is due to ignorance or oversight. Possibly Maugham was judged to be a spiritual lightweight. However, because on a web page I said The Razor’s Edge was one of my favorite books, I received emails from a fellow, calling himself the Wanderling, who said that his mentor, and not a fellow called Guy Hague, was the person who had been the source for Maugham’s character Larry Darrell.
Some people never read a book more than once. Some people cannot even conceive of doing this. Jerry Seinfeld would appear to be one of those people. In an early episode of his television series, Jerry ridicules George for wanting to retrieve some already-read books from the girlfriend with whom he has just broken up.
Presumably Seinfeld could conceive of watching a television show more than once. It is only because I have watched Seinfeld episodes more than once that I am able to recall and mention Jerry’s foolishness about books in the first place.
Recently I increased by one the unknown number of my readings of ZAMM. Earlier in this month of June, 2013, above the Tyrrhenian Sea, in the gorgeous hilltop setting of Ravello, where I was attending a mathematics conference, in the early mornings I would rise, sit outside, and either work on mathematics or read ZAMM.