It's Thursday

Again I must apologise for writing so briefly - though perhaps some of you who have read my voluminous postings elsewhere wish I was always more brief. But I am busy writing something a bit different, (hee hee) in a language where I use rather more semicolons than GKC did. Yes, that's one of the Great Sins committed by our favourite "second-rate" author of detective novels, dull theology, rhyming poems and such trash. But I assure you, it is only because I myself use the semicolon correctly that I can tell you GKC's average semicolon use was 14.2 semicolons per 1459.5 word essay which he wrote for the Illustrated London News. Put that in your next journal article and smoke it!

Ahem. Well, since I have been trying to explore some of the books GKC wrote about, or mentioned, which are still available from Dover Publications, I ought to resume - but I haven't written one. Also, when I asked our esteemed blogg-mistress about current efforts, she mentioned she was hoping to resume our consideration of The Poet and the Lunatics - which unfortunately is not yet available from Dover.

So I will cheat. I will give you an interesting quote from Chapter 2 "The Yellow Bird", and suggest a Dover book which I have, and which I think GKC would have enjoyed purusing. First, the quote:

this particular artist, whose name was Gabriel Gale, did not seem disposed even to look at the landscape, far less to paint it; but after taking a bite out of a ham sandwich, and a swig at somebody else's flask of claret, incontinently lay down on his back under a tree and stared up at the twilight of twinkling leaves; some believing him to be asleep, while others more generously supposed him to be composing poetry. ... "If you look up long enough, there isn't any more up or down, but a sort of green, dizzy dream; with birds that might as well be fishes."
[GKC, "The Yellow Bird", The Poet and the Lunatics]

Here we see one of GKC's usual "inversion" tricks, recalling the kernel axiom from "Cinderella" - the words once uttered by a young woman in another context: "exaltavit humiles = "He has lifted up the lowly." [See Orthodoxy CW1:253 quoting Mary in Lk 1:52] But there is also a very funny swipe at the absurd anti-logic of Nietzsche and other death-eaters, who said: "Good and evil, truth and falsehood, folly and wisdom are only aspects of the same upward movement of the universe." To which GKC (even at an early stage) replied: "Supposing there is no difference between good and bad, or between false and true, what is the difference between up and down?" [See GKC's Autobiography CW16:154]

Ah - the book. It was suggested by Gale's perception of birds as fishes, and is simply a very beautiful study called Hummingbirds. The pictures of these tiny birds hint at the power called discrimination - the ability to tell both similarities and differences correctly - which is strengthened by such fantastic tricks. A poet who looks up into the trees and seeing birds as fish swimming in a green sea will be better able to know both fish and birds correctly. In a more modern context, the fantasy that a boy waves a wooden stick and says "Lumos" shines a light on the more mundane but far more magical flashlight, the distillation of thousands of years of work and thousands of years of knowledge. Or, as Gabriel Gale says in another part of that same story:

What exactly is liberty? First and foremost, surely, it is the power of a thing to be itself.
[GKC, "The Yellow Bird", The Poet and the Lunatics]

Didn't know you were reading an ontology textbook here, did you? Hang on the ride might be bumpy in spots but it's well worth the admission price.

--Dr. Thursday