Tag Archives: Seinfeld

NL XXIII: The Family As a Society

Index to this series

Executive summary (added September 11, 2018):

1.
The society at the nucleus of the family is temporary, ending with the death of one of the two members.
2.
The family has a life-cycle, with three phases: (1) before children; (2) after children, but before they have free will; (3) after the children have free will.
3.
The community consisting of husband and wife is now a society. It was not a society when a marriage was arranged by the groom or the groom’s father and the father of the bride. The non-social aspect of a marriage survives in the custom of formally “giving away” the bride.
4.
If today a bride and groom do not quite recognize themselves as forming a society, they may come to do so in time.
5.
Contraception helps clarify that a marriage is normally for the sake of having children.
6.
In order to grow up and leave the nursery, the child must be educated. The work of this is both the child’s and its teachers’. Parents must also allow the child to leave the nursery and join their society.
7.
There are three possible needs, and they are distinct: (1) to have a baby, (2) to have a child, (3) to have a grown-up child.
8.
Any of those three needs is fulfilled by an act of will; there is no parental “instinct”—not a scientific term anyway, though it is used popularly for an appetite or desire.
9.
Born without free will, we are not born in chains either, since this would mean suppression of a will that didn’t exist.

The last chapter was called “The Family As a Mixed Community,” because the family consists of both a society and a non-social part, called the nursery. Now we are looking at “The Family As a Society.” We are not in contradiction, but are in the flux that Heraclitus observed in all existence (24. 62). The inmates of the nursery normally grow and join the society of their parents: the family as a whole is a society in this sense.

Altınova bazaar, Wednesday, September 13, 2017

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Surgery & Recovery

On June 7, 2016, I underwent surgical repair of an inguinal hernia. I did not know what to expect. I did not know that I did not know: I did not consider that there was anything in particular to be prepared for. But there was.

Clock tower of Şişli Etfal hospital, from the fourth floor
Clock tower of Şişli Etfal hospital
from the fourth floor

The surgery itself was not such a big deal. It was a fascinating experience, but not one that I found myself wishing I had known more about ahead of time. Recovery has turned out to be something else. If a medical website says of recovery, “You may experience some discomfort,” it is practically lying. Discomfort was what I experienced, waiting in a chair, or on a gurney, for the surgery to take place. What I experienced afterwards was searing pain, at least in getting out of bed, with the rather insistent help of a nurse.

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Books hung out with

Here are some books that I have read more times than I can remember.

  1. R. G. Collingwood, The Principles of Art (1938);
  2. Somerset Maugham, The Razor’s Edge (1944);
  3. Robert M. Pirsig, Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance (1974).

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:

  1. Books to hang out with.
  2. Books to visit with now and then.
  3. Books it’s useful to have met.

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.

photo of terrace in Ravello
ZAMM in the morning in Ravello

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