Hamlet

I liked this play, I really did. Almost as much as Macbeth. I still can't decide whether Hamlet seems genuinely crazy or if it is an act. Reading it, he seems more conniving. But watching it on film, he seems truly insane. That could be the particular performance, though. Someday I'd like to see it as a play as well as on film. Anyway, by the fourth act I knew where the story was going. Everyone was going to die. The poisoned cup, the backup plan, was just too much. Things were bound to go south from then on. And lo and behold, all the main characters, except Horatio, were killed by their plotting and crimes. It just goes to show that poison, like faking your own death, is always a bad idea.

That to Study Philosophy is to Learn to Die

In this essay, Montaigne makes his case on why people should not fear or try to avoid death. Many of his examples, I admit, make sense. Near the end, when he is speaking as Nature, he says, "A thousand men, a thousand animals, a thousand other creatures, die at the same moment that you die." This reminded me of a novel I read recently for a literature class, The Road by Cormac McCarthy. Death is a strong theme in that book as well, considering it is set in a post-apocalyptic world where everything is either dead or dying. In one point, the man and the boy come across an old man, Ely, with which they share some food. The man and Ely are talking about being the last man on the earth. The man says, " How would you know if you were the last man on earth?" Ely replies, " I dont guess you would know it. You'd just be it." "Nobody would know it." "It wouldnt make any difference. When you die its the same as if everybody else did too." (p. 170) In a way, the characters of the novel have embraced Montaigne's ideas. Though only because there is little hope left in living; those that have not died or committed suicide wish they were no longer alive. Anyway, that passage of the essay made me immediately think of the one in the novel. And they make a lot of sense. As far as you're concerned, when you die, nothing else continues to exist; for you, everything has died with you.
(p.s. Please ignore the lack of apostrophes in the McCarthy quote. That's just the way he wrote it.)

Twelfth Night, or, What You Will

This weekend I saw 'Twelfth Night,' as put on by the Casper College Theatre department. What does this have to do with class? Well, it was set in the Renaissance. Plus it was hilarious. I haven't really had many opportunities to read or watch any Shakespeare, and seeing that makes me look forward to the upcoming section on the Catholic Counter-Reformation, in which I believe we are reading 'Hamlet.' In that particular play, the one I saw, I did notice a few things that allude to Shakespeare's participation in or support of the Counter-Reformation. For example, there was one rather amusing part in which Viola, Sir Andrew, the Uncle whose name escapes me and Maria are talking, well, conniving really. They discuss one of Olivia's ministers, who is a Puritan; each time, upon saying the word "Puritan," they all spit on the floor, showing their obvious distaste for such reformed religions.

More and Mirandola

'On the religions of the Utopians,' in Book 2 reminded me rather forcibly of 'On the Dignity of Man,' by Pico della Mirandola. More begins this last section of the Book with a description of the different religions of Utopia; some being the worship of fire, some the moon, planets, prominent men, and so on, as well as the worship of the supreme Being or Deity. 'Being' is a common way to refer to a god or God, but it made me think specifically of Mirandola's treatment of Plato's concept of the One. Raphael, in the story, says, "They differ in this, that one thinks the God whom he worships is this supreme Being, and another thinks that his idol is that God; but they all agree in one principle, that whoever is this supreme Being, He is also that great Essence to whose glory and majesty all honours are ascribed by the consent of all nations." And that explains the connection I made. Mirandola was eccentric in that he collected and studied a variety of religious texts, not only Christian but Muslim and Jewish, including the qabbalah. He equated these differing concepts of God with the One, as if all the differences between religions were merely trifles for all are worshipping the same Being. The same apparently is believed in Utopia, where the founder of the country, "seemed to doubt whether those different forms of religion might not all come from God, who might inspire men in a different manner, and be pleased with this variety."

Predestination?

The other day in class, when we covered the Protestant Reformation, we talked a little about the idea of predestination. How people, long before being born, are already set in life; what they are going to do and where they're going to end up. This doesn't quite make sense to me. Perhaps I'm a bit biased, I was raised to believe in free will. But it seems to me that predestination would eradicate the concept of sin, and thus morality. Sin is pretty much the choice to go against the teachings and laws of God. But if people had no choice, they couldn't technically sin. God's will is good and moral, and so a murderer would not be a sinner, or immoral, because he/she simply was doing as God had planned. And who would call God's plan immoral?
Besides, the whole concept seems like a rather fatalistic way of looking at things. You do what you do, but know it doesn't matter because you really have no control over your fate. Kind of bleak.

Praise of Folly

In the first forty pages, I was interested in Erasmus/Folly's use of many references to classical Greek and Roman mythology. It wasn't what I had expected, but it was amusing. At this point, Folly is declaring that no one or nothing is possible without her. Nothing good, no pleasure, does not have its roots in folly, and she makes the point that even to 'make a child,' she must be present. Sometimes it is difficult to tell if a given section is meant to be serious or a joke, but I suppose that's the whole point, right?

The Prince, pt. 2

In the last chapter, Machiavelli seemed to switch rather rapidly from a calm observance of what princes should and should not do to a plea to the Medici family. He ends the book with an urge to the family to learn from and apply all he has written, and use this information and methods to retake Italy from the "barbarians." The switch was rather abrupt, and now I see how some individuals think that 'The Prince' was written in an attempt to get his old job back.