The First Ten Books of 2021: For the Love of Fiction, True Crime, and Fluff

“Imagination, of course, can open any door – turn the key and let terror walk right in.” – Truman Capote

THERE IS TREMENDOUS value to facing things head-on; to rooting yourself firmly and unshakably in reality, unmoved by the maelstrom it periodically unleashes. Hic et nunc, as the Stoics put it. To be immersed in the here and now. But some days, the going can get too tough, the waters too choppy. These are the days when staying afloat feels next to impossible.

During these moments, it helps to have a hobby or ten to buoy the spirits. These hobbies act as temporary escape hatches—a place where the mind can rest as the soul regroups. As someone who’s been struggling with cycles of anxiety and depression, I understand the value of escapism. I’ve always gravitated towards solitary (and sedentary) activities like writing, reading, singing, playing the guitar, crocheting, and cross-stitching. All these hobbies help shift my focus away from what’s stressing me out at a particular moment.

Out of all these activities, there’s one that I’ve turned into a daily habit, and that’s reading. Reading a few pages at the end of a long day can help cleanse the mental palate. Bonus points if the book teaches you something. Though, to be fair, all books have something to teach—even if the lesson is something as left field as when to quit reading a bad book.

Normally, I rely on book lists and recommendations to find out what I ought to read next. This year, however, I’ve had to nix my prepared list. Health problems. I have an autoimmune disease that leaves me with brain fog and fatigue. And because focus and energy are two things I have in low supply at the moment, I need to be very selective with my readings. Nothing too long or too demanding. So, expect most of the books on this list to be on the short (but superb) side.

Alors, without further ado, my first ten books for 2021:

Book 1: The Night Diary (2018) by Veera Hiranandani

Favorite Quote: “Papa says that everyone is killing one another now, Hindus, Muslims, Sikhs. Everyone is to blame. He says that when you separate people into groups, they start to believe that one group is better than another. I think about Papa’s medical books and how we all have the same blood, and organs, and bones inside us, no matter what religion we’re supposed to be.” – Veera Hiranandani, The Night Diary

Set in 1947, at the height of the Indian Partition riots, Veera Hiranandani’s The Night Diary follows the story of one family as they escape religious persecution in their homeland. The story unfolds as the diary entries of 12-year-old Nisha. She uses her diary to write to her mother who had passed on when Nisha and her twin brother, Amil, were babies.

Now, the fact that we’re reading about the Partition—one of the bloodiest and most devastating episodes in Indian and Pakistan history—through the experiences of a 12-year-old girl makes everything even more painful. Her family’s journey from Pakistan to the New India is perilous and heartbreaking. At one point, Nisha is held at knifepoint by a man whose lost his entire family during the riots.

Though the book is a quick read, it is not a light one. The Night Diary is a complex and moving book that explores challenging and important themes like family problems, religion (and the role that it plays in our perception of others), social class, social/racial/religious identity, justice, and finding one’s voice.

A must-read.

Grade: A-

Book 2: The House on Mango Street (1984) by Sandra Cisneros

Favorite Quote: “One day I will pack my bags of books and paper. One day I will say goodbye to Mango. I am too strong for her to keep me here forever. One day I will go away.       

Friends and neighbors will say, what happened to that Esperanza? Where did she go with all those books and paper? Why did she march so far away?

                They will not know I have gone away to come back. For the ones I left behind. For the ones who cannot get out.”

The House on Mango Street is a series of vignettes told through the perspective of its heroine, Esperanza Cordero. Each chapter offers a slice of Esperanza’s life. It gives the reader an idea of what it must be like to be a 12-year-old Chicana growing up in an impoverished Hispanic neighborhood in Chicago.

Fair warning, this is a book that tackles sensitive topics like racism, sexual harassment, and domestic violence. It may be a slim volume but you can be sure that it packs a proverbial punch. It’s definitely the type of book that stays with you long after you’ve turned the final page.

Another thing I love about the book is how authentic it reads. I can practically hear Esperanza’s voice in my ear. It’s so well-written, the lingo is spot-on, and it’s emotionally honest without the histrionics. What else is there to say? Sandra Cisneros’s The House on Mango Street is definitely worthy of a spot on your reading list.

Grade: A

Book 3: Convenience Store Woman (2016) by Sayaka Murata (possible spoiler ahead)

Favorite Quote: “The normal world has no room for exceptions and always quietly eliminates foreign objects. Anyone who is lacking is disposed of.

So that’s why I need to be cured. Unless I’m cured, normal people will expurgate me.”

Convenience Store Woman is the heartwarming story of the awkward and endearing 36-year-old Keiko Furukura. As the book’s title suggests, Keiko is a proud Smile Mart employee in the Hiromachi neighborhood in Shinagawa. She’s had the same job for over 18 years, and it’s a job that she’s absolutely passionate about. To Keiko, it’s more than work—it’s her life. Working in a convenience store brings direction, stability, and purpose to her existence. It’s also where she takes her cues on how to live like a “normal” person. Now, if only society and the people around her would stop trying to mold her into something she’s not.

Out of the ten books in this list, this is my second favorite. The premise is quite simple. Quirky/misunderstood/boring middle-aged protagonist faces crushing societal pressures. Square peg forced into round hole shatters the mold—that kind of book.

Now, the plotline isn’t wholly new, but maybe that is its genius. Keiko’s struggles are universal. It’s the question of whether one should conform to society’s expectations and reap the benefits that come with that ‘peaceful’ existence or stay true to oneself and risk becoming an outcast. I think that while our experiences may differ, this is a dilemma we’ve all faced at one point or another. It’s a simple, sweet, funny, and heartfelt book. A perfect read all year round.

Grade: A+

“I am one of those cogs, going round and round. I have become a functioning part of the world, rotating in the time of day called morning.” – Sayaka Murata

Book 4: Wide Sargasso Sea (1966) by Jean Rhys

Favorite Quote: “There are always two deaths, the real one and the one people know about.”

Philip K. Dick once said, “It is sometimes an appropriate response to reality to go insane.” Now, if you’ve ever wondered about the madwoman in Jane Eyre’s attic, then this book is the salve for that particular itch. In Wide Sargasso Sea, author Jean Rhys breathes life—and what a fascinating and tragic life it turned out to be—to the infamous and violently insane, Bertha Mason. Of course, she wasn’t Bertha then. She was the beautiful, proud, and vulnerable Creole heiress, Antoinette Cosway.

Antoinette’s early life can only be described as wretched. Her family loses all their money, her mother goes insane, her brother dies early, and she’s left with no one to really love her or care for her. If not for her stepfather’s sense of responsibility, our heroine would’ve been out in the streets, or worse, dead. But the arrival of a certain Mr. Rochester might just change everything.

Of course, he marries her for her dowry, which is hardly ever a good thing, but he also presents her with the possibility of happiness and a fresh start. So where did it all go wrong? Why did our heroine go mad? Was Antoinette’s madness genetic or was it the consequence of neglect and a hostile environment? The book answers all these questions while also delving into postcolonial issues of sexism, racism, prejudice, cultural clashes, assimilation, and displacement.

Wide Sargasso Sea is undoubtedly a very important piece of literature. It’s a solid read and one that I do recommend to people who love classics. But, personally, I wish the writing and the plot were a little tighter or cleaner. I don’t know how else to describe it other than reading the book is like walking into someone’s dream or nightmare. The scenes are very vivid, but the pace is unpredictable and there are gaps in the story and the timeline that I wish were a little more fleshed out.

Grade: B

Book 5: The Duke and I (2000) by Julia Quinn

Favorite Quote: “A duel, a duel, a duel. Is there anything more exciting, more romantic…or more utterly moronic?”

A few years ago, two dear friends introduced me to the exciting world of Historical Romance. Their recommended starters? The whole Julia Quinn catalogue, starting with the first book in the Bridgerton series, The Duke and I. Now, I wasn’t planning on rereading the series just yet, but Netflix has inspired me to revisit Quinn’s works. And I’m sure glad I did.

Set in Regency London, The Duke and I is the story of how the commitment-averse Simon Basset, Duke of Hastings, and the lovely and quick-witted Daphne Bridgerton set out to dupe the ton into thinking they’re in love. Simon is determined never to marry and by pretending to court Daphne, he has a built-in excuse to keep the marriage-minded society mommas at bay. As for Daphne, she’s hoping their little plan can make her more desirable in other men’s eyes. After all, a Duke did choose her, right?

Naturally, their plan backfires. Love gets in the way.  As far as hisrom books go, this has all the elements for a good one. You have the couple getting caught in a compromising position, a duel, family drama, and a dark secret that threatens to destroy all semblance of happiness for Simon and Daphne. It’s a great, quick and fun read. I highly recommend it.

Grade: B+

Book 6: The Viscount Who Loved Me (2000) by Julia Quinn

Favorite Quote: “A man with charm is an entertaining thing, and a man with looks is, of course, a sight to behold, but a man with honor—ah, he is the one, dear reader, to which young ladies should flock.”

The Viscount Who Loved Me is the second book in Julia Quinn’s Bridgerton Series. This time, the book centers on the eldest of the Bridgerton siblings, Anthony. With his best friend, the Duke of Hastings, off the market (and married to his little sister, no less!), Anthony has become London’s most eligible bachelor.  Except he’s not looking for a bride, he’s already chosen one.

Edwina Sheffield is smart, beautiful, amiable, and someone Anthony’s sure he will never fall in love with. In short, she’s the Viscount’s idea of the perfect bride.  It’s just a matter of wooing her and getting the approval of her stubborn, willful, infuriating, and utterly irresistible older sister, Kate. Somehow, when Kate’s around, Anthony just can’t seem to bee-have. Yes, I did that.

The Viscount Who Loved Me is a strong second offering from the Bridgerton Series. I found it to be more lighthearted, generally a quicker and easier read than The Duke and I. At times laugh-out-loud funny, at times secondhand cringe-inducing, this is a book that has enough ups and downs to keep you on the edge of your seat.

Grade: A-

Book 7: In Cold Blood (1966) by Truman Capote

Favorite Quotes: “The village of Holcomb stands on the high wheat plains of western Kansas, a lonesome area that other Kansans call ‘out there.’”

“Just remember: If one bird carried very grain of sand, grain by grain, across the ocean, by the time he got them all on the other side, that would only be the beginning of eternity.”

“I thought that Mr. Clutter was a very nice gentleman. I thought so right up to the moment that I cut his throat.”

And now, my favorite book in this list—In Cold Blood by Truman Capote. The book covers the Clutter family murders and the arrest, trial, and execution of murderers Richard “Dick” Hickock and Perry Smith. As a true crime fan (the genre, not the activity), I don’t know why I waited so long before reading this seminal piece.

This is a book that shaped an entire literary genre. The fact that it’s still the second-best-selling true crime book over 50 years since its publication shows us how important and impressive In Cold Blood is. Now, I know the book has veracity issues, but I won’t be touching on that. For now, I’m basing this mini-review on my experience as a reader. And all I can say is that In Cold Blood is exquisitely written and worth the many praises it’s received from readers and critics alike.

All the characters—the Clutter family, Dick, Perry—are so fleshed-out that you can picture them as they were before their lives took a very tragic turn. It was a senseless and brutal murder that left an entire nation reeling and a town devastated. The murderers were completely inhuman in their cruelty, and yet Capote manages to somehow humanize these killers—especially Perry Smith. By doing so, the author makes the crime all the more terrifying and disturbing.

This is a staggering book. If you love good writing, true crime, and the classics, this is one for your shelf.

Grade: A+

Book 8: The Giver (1993) by Lois Lowry

Favorite Quote: “The life where nothing was ever unexpected. Or inconvenient. Or unusual. The life without color, pain or past.”

Here’s a book from my childhood—and maybe yours as well. The Giver is a dystopian tale that follows the story of 12-year-old Jonas as he begins training for his new role in society. Jonas is his community’s new Receiver of Memory. He will receive and keep all of the world’s memories and knowledge, which are to be passed on to him by his predecessor, The Giver.

Prior to his training, Jonas’s Community was Utopian. Fear, chaos, hardship, and differences were concepts that were nebulous, if not downright nonexistent. Everything in the Community was designed for order, sameness, and peace. But as Jonas’s training progressed, he started seeing the other side of the coin. For the Community to attain “Utopia,” it needed to sacrifice wonderful and perhaps worthier values like individuality, freedom of choice, speech, and expression, and the capacity to feel emotions like love, happiness, anger, and grief.  Through the world’s memories, Jonas remembered what could have been and what still could be—a world of freedom and possibility.

Lois Lowry’s The Giver is one of those books that I like to revisit at least once every decade. And every time I do, I’m amazed by the book’s continued relevance. Language-policing, mob mentality, the silencing of dissenting opinions, the oppression of what’s Other, tyranny—these are all things we continue to witness in today’s society. Honestly, we can all learn a little something from this book. So, if you haven’t read The Giver yet, please consider adding this to your reading list.

Grade: A+

Book 9: Make Good Art by Neil Gaiman (2012)

Favorite Quote: “Go and make interesting mistakes, make amazing mistakes, make glorious and fantastic mistakes. Break rules. Leave the world more interesting for your being here.”

As far as inspirational speeches go, this 19-minute commencement address by Neil Gaiman—delivered at Philadelphia’s University of the Arts in 2012—is one of the best you’ll find online. In it, Gaiman shares his thoughts on creativity, resilience, resourcefulness, and bravery. To make good art, one must be willing to put oneself out there. To make mistakes, to risk failure, to keep going even when the odds are stacked against you, especially when the odds are stacked against you. To keep believing in yourself and to keep soldiering on. All solid and effective advice.

Make Good Art is a heartwarming and rousing speech. It’s a pleasure to watch and listen to—and it makes for a quick but impactful read. This is the book for struggling and blocked artists and writers who need the occasional reminder that they have what it takes to make good art.

Rating: A-

Book 10: How to Be Parisian Wherever You Are: Love, Style, and Bad Habits by Caroline de Maigret, Sophie Mas, Audrey Diwan, Anne Berest

Favorite Quote: “Enjoy the face you have today. It’s the one you’ll wish you have ten years from now.”

Have I mentioned that I’m studying French? C’est plus difficile que je le pensais. I’m progressing a lot slower than I thought I would, but any progress is good progress, right? As part of my learning experience, I decided to read more French culture books. This year, How to Be Parisian Wherever You Are was my toe in the water.  

Now, let me tell you, this was a fun ride. I was expecting something a little more serious and instructional, but what I got was far better. How to Be Parisian is a book that doesn’t take itself too seriously. It’s snobbish, pretentious, sassy, amusing, witty, sarcastic, and funny at points. It plays to and pokes fun at the stereotypes we have of Parisian women. It also has a number of great recipes that I can’t wait to try. It’s a good, fun book for when you need a chuckle.

Grade: B+

A Year of Reading: What I’ve Read So Far (Books 1-15)

Image by Kaboompicsfrom Pixabay

THE FIRST FEW HOURS of 2020. Like most everyone, I had grand plans for the new decade. Being an enthusiastic list maker, I wrote all those plans down. I listed, categorized, and mapped out all the wonderful things I was going to do this year. The list was lengthy, but I made sure to write down the most important resolutions first. That way, even if I don’t get past the fifth item on my list, I’d still have the most crucial bases covered.

At the very top, (the ones I felt were do or die), were these three goals:

1. Spend more time with family.
2. Keep traveling. (On the list were Vietnam, Japan, Cambodia, and Singapore.)
3. Read 52 books this year.

Obviously, a lot has changed in the last few months. Most of my plans have gone out the window. Where I’m at, a simple family visit or a quick trip somewhere is a complicated affair. My city hasn’t come out of lockdown/quarantine since March 16, so non-essential travel still isn’t allowed. So that’s #1 and #2 out of the running.

This brings us to #3. Well, I’m happy to say that #3 still holds a lot of promise. Don’t get me wrong, reading 52 books is a tall order for me. See, I’m a slow reader and a lingerer. I like to read books at least twice—the first time for pleasure and the second time for reflection. Plus, I take notes and that takes forever.

                                         The book that started it all.

Thank God for Children’s Books. In my experience, these books are like sanity balms for these insane times. These books are short, sweet, and soul-saving. There’s a predictability to them that’s comforting. It also doesn’t hurt that these stories rarely stretch past the 200-page territory. Now, I’m bringing this up because you’re going to be seeing a lot of children’s books in this list. Fair warning, my friend.

As I’m writing this, I’m 35 books into my goal. I’m feeling confident about my pace and am also really excited to share my thoughts on each book with you. But because this is an ongoing list (and a really long one too), we’re turning this into a three-parter.

And now, without further ado, here are Books 1-15 in my Year of Reading.

P.S. I’ll be lumping book series together.

#1 Harry Potter and the Order of Phoenix;
#2 Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince; and
#3 Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows by J.K. Rowling
Rating: A
Note: Maybe it was the holidays, but last December I was in a nostalgic mood. In terms of reading, I didn’t want the excitement of new books. I wanted the steadiness and the familiarity of old favorites. So, I went on a full-on Harry Potter binge. I wanted to see if the books were as good as I remembered.

Long story short, they were. The part where Harry tells Dumbledore that he was Dumbledore’s man through and through made me cry. Hard.

Book 4: Emma by Jane Austen
Rating: A
Note: After having read Emma for the nth time, I find myself slowly softening towards Ms. Woodhouse. I used to find her insensitive, manipulative, and spoiled. I still do. But what I regarded before as willfulness, now comes across as blind optimism or good intentions coupled with botched execution.

Book 5: Sense and Sensibility by Jane Austen
Rating: A+
Note: Still my favorite book from Austen with Persuasion as a close second.  The angry exchange between Marianne and Elinor—the following immortal lines from the book… perfection.

“What do you know of my heart? What do you know of anything but your own suffering. For weeks, Marianne, I’ve had this pressing on me without being at liberty to speak of it to a single creature. It was forced on me by the very person whose prior claims ruined all my hope. I have endured her exultations again and again whilst knowing myself to be divided from Edward forever. Believe me, Marianne, had I not been bound to silence I could have provided proof enough of a broken heart, even for you.”

 

I have very strong feelings about this book. Few of them are good. (But admittedly, it is a book worth reading.)

Book 6: Women in Love by D.H. Lawrence
Rating: B
Note: I know a lot of people love this book, but I have very mixed feelings about it. That it is well-written is a given. D.H. Lawrence was a very talented writer. However, I also found Women in Love to be dragging at points and its characters absolutely repulsive. The rot, the deception, the pretentiousness of Gudrun, Birkin, Ursula, and Gerald just bled through the pages. They felt so much like real people who I could and would really dislike in real life.

Book 7: To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee
Rating: A+
Notes: I don’t know why it took me so long to pick this book up and give it a go, but I sincerely wish I read it sooner. To Kill a Mockingbird is the best fiction I’ve read this year. The way it tackles such difficult and painful subjects like racism, injustice, and prejudice using a child’s perspective just doubles the impact of the work.

Book 8: 13 Things Mentally Strong People Don’t Do by Amy Morin
Rating: A-
Notes: One of the best self-help books I’ve read in the last few years. Amy Morin offers solid and practical advice for people who want to become mentally tougher. Definitely a book I’d recommend reading this pandemic.

Book 9: We Have Always Lived in the Castle by Shirley Jackson
Rating: A
Notes: While The Haunting of Hill House remains my favorite novel from Shirley Jackson, this is a close second. We Have Always Lived in the Castle draws the reader into the twisted world of Merricat and Constance Blackwood. And though you may disagree with Merricat’s reasonings and actions, you do end up understanding or at least following, her warped logic.

Book 10: Charlotte’s Web by E.B. White
Rating: A
Notes: When I was a child, I thought Charlotte’s Web was a good children’s book. Wilbur’s antics made me laugh and Charlotte’s final sacrifice made me cry, but that was that. As an adult, however, I can fully appreciate how good of a book Charlotte’s Web is. It’s heartwarming and impeccably written, although the latter is to be expected. Author E.B. White did cowrite the writing bible The Elements of Style, after all. But what I like most about this book is its delicate but truthful treatment of topics like death and loneliness. 10/10 would read to my future kid.

                            It was a summer for tomato sandwiches…

Book 11: Harriet the Spy by Louise Fitzhugh
Rating: A
Notes: As a child, Harriet M. Welsch was my spirit animal. I thought we had a lot in common. We were both prickly, borderline rude, and awkward wannabe writers who were really close to their nannies. I liked Harriet the Spy so much that for an entire summer I snacked on nothing but tomato sandwiches. Mayo and tomato, a dash of pepper, and occasionally, a slice of cheese. Now that still makes my mouth water. Rereading the book as an adult, I see that Harriet wasn’t as nice as I remembered her to be. But she’s still my favorite spy and this is still one of my most-loved books of all time.

Book 12: The Hobbit by J.R.R. Tolkien
Rating: A
Notes: This was the children’s book that began the binge, (outside of Harry Potter, of course). I picked up a new copy of The Hobbit and thought it would be a good time to revisit Bilbo’s adventure. I must say, the book’s pacing was a lot faster than I originally remembered. Still a fantastic journey though. And because I’m in no rush to get to the next scene, I took my time appreciating J.R.R. Tolkien’s stellar writing.

Book 13: The Graveyard Book by Neil Gaiman
Rating: A
Notes: Like Charlotte’s Web, The Graveyard Book tackles difficult topics like murder, revenge, and death. The difference is that Gaiman takes a slightly more straightforward/realistic approach. Instead of farm animals, we have a living boy surrounded by ghosts, a vampire guardian, a werewolf, and a witch. It’s a beautifully written and heartwarming book with a dose of horror and a dash of adventure to boot. In short, it has something sweet for every type of reader.

                                As important today as it was in 1949.

Book 14: The Second Sex by Simone de Beauvoir
Rating: A+
Notes: Harper Lee’s To Kill a Mockingbird might be the best fiction I’ve read this quarantine, but The Second Sex is hands-down the most important book I’ve read in the last few years. Though the book was written in 1949, Simone de Beauvoir’s masterpiece is just as relevant today as it was during that period. You don’t have to be a feminist to appreciate this book, though if you are a feminist, this is a seminal piece you wouldn’t want to miss.

Book 15: Matilda by Roald Dahl
Rating: A
Notes: I can’t help but compare Matilda the book and Matilda the film. Don’t get me wrong, both are fantastic and the film does stay true to the book. But somehow, the book feels darker. Miss Trunchbull reads meaner and more despicable. The neglect that Matilda suffers and the emotional torture that Miss Honey goes through are also more palpable in print than on celluloid. I don’t know why. Either way, it’s a great book. Just fair warning, it does gets dark at times.

And that’s what I have so far. I’m currently writing the post for Books 16-30. Will be adding the link here once that post goes live.

How about you? What literary landscapes have you been exploring this quarantine? Any recommendations for me? Come, drop me a line. 🙂

The Great Escape: On Reading Children’s Books

Image by Comfreak from Pixabay

NORA EPHRON ONCE wrote, “Reading is escape, and the opposite of escape; it’s a way to make contact with reality after a day of making things up, and it’s a way of making contact with someone else’s imagination after a day that’s all too real.”

“A day that’s all too real.” I’m sure this is a feeling that we’re all familiar with at this point. When 2020 rolled in, it was full of potential and promise. It wasn’t just a new year; it was an entirely new decade. For a lot of people, myself included, 2020 was supposed to be a year of lasting and positive change. This year I was finally going to get my sh&t together. At least that was the original plan.

Obviously, plans fell through. Nowadays, it’s less getting my sh&t together and more just trying to keep everything from falling apart. Like other anxiety-ridden folks, guilt, overwhelm, and mild panic have become my constant companions this quarantine. And I don’t know about you, but aside from being exhausted 24/7, I find it difficult to focus on anything these days. My writing’s hit an all-time s-low and even my reading comprehension has been affected. Being constantly on edge makes it difficult to find moments of flow, relaxation, and joy.

Thank God for Children’s Books.

I never fully appreciated the beauty and complexity of children’s literature until this quarantine. Now, don’t get me wrong, I’ve always been a fan of the genre. In fact, some of my favorite books are children’s books—A Wrinkle in Time, Harriet the Spy, The Giver, Jonathan Livingston Seagull, To Kill a Mockingbird, Little Women, The Little Princess, Black Beauty, and the list just goes on.

In fifth grade, I was especially obsessed with a particular female detective series. And no, it wasn’t Nancy Drew. (Come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve ever read a Nancy Drew.) It was Margaret Sutton’s Judy Bolton Mystery Series! I spent the entire year just devouring those 38 books. They were those heavy, clothbound hardbacks with glossy jackets depicting an auburn-haired young woman dressed in gorgeous shirtdresses and camel coats.

I loved everything about those books—the stories, absolutely. The artwork, yes. But I also loved that old book smell, the yellowed pages, the thick, coarse paper, and the large typeface. I’m not 100 percent sure, but I think the font used in those books were mostly Bembo—very easy on the eyes. They were just all-around really solid books.

So, I guess I did read and enjoy a fair number of children’s books growing up. But there’s something different about reading children’s books as an adult. When you read your childhood favorites 20 or 30 years down the road, if you’re lucky, you’ll find a wealth of new meanings, a fresh understanding and appreciation of the text. The words themselves haven’t changed, but the context has—you have.

Suddenly, Shel Silverstein’s The Giving Tree has gone from sweet story of a generous tree to something that gives you a soul-deep ache. In my case, revisiting the book after almost 30 years had me crying in bed at 4 a.m. and wanting to see my parents. So, you see, beyond acting as an easy respite from the harsh reality of this pandemic, reading children’s literature can also help you zone in on what’s important in life—family, friends, and the good path.

Most of these books also come with a moral lesson or two, and I think that’s a good thing. Some people don’t like the didactic nature of children’s books, I love it. You want to know how to be a good person, read a children’s book. Sometimes it’s as simple as that.

Now, I just finished reading C.S. Lewis’s The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe for the first time and it was exactly the kind of magic I needed. It reminded me to face each day with courage, integrity, honesty, compassion, and dignity—pretty good perspective to have during a pandemic.

On Writer’s Block.

Image by Lukas Bieri from Pixabay

Not for the first time in the two decades that I’ve been writing, I whistle but the words would not come. Writer’s block—it has happened before, sure. But never this bad and never this long. It’s as if an expansive blankness has covered everything around me. The senses have dulled and the self has been rendered vacant. The dullness is near-impenetrable. The silence is deafening.

The truth is I have grown accustomed to the mind’s voice and its unstoppable chatter. Its constant narration of the everything of the every day, its rehashing of old conversations after finally finding a good comeback, its self-righteous monologue about something I saw on TV, its existential whinging. My mind is far more verbose than my convoluted prose, but it did let me pull strands of thought ready and ripe for weaving.

Many a night it has woken me from deep sleep, saying, Get up! I have an idea and you need to write it down. Naturally, I would shush it with a pill or smush it with a pillow. Die, die, I would grumble. Those days I felt I needed the shut-eye more than the sound-off. But even as I slipped into the stream of sleep, the mind’s low susurrations became the soundtrack of my slumber. Now, there is nothing. Well, next to nothing.

The ideas still arrive promptly and regularly enough. Insistently enough. Barging into the consciousness, teeming with self-importance. Half-formed but still dazzling with tremendous possibility. Their uncontrollable wildness is a lure, and I do so desire to wrangle them and tame them, to fashion them into something shiny to dress the ego’s mantel. But no sooner have my eyes adjusted to their light, their forms crumble into fine, fine dust. Dust, dust, and nothing but dust.  No amount of coaxing and maneuvering could form anything of substance from this wretched dust.

Oh, if it were only up to me, I would give up chasing my dreams of writing. This compulsion for literary creation. If it were up to me, I would take this barren landscape and grow more productive fruit. Turn to business, make money, be content with a hobby. Read without feeling the familiar itch to also make something of value. But I am far too miserable when I’m not writing. I can’t sit still. I can’t sleep. I’m compelled to keep trying—even if it means penning a long and winding (whining) piece On Writer’s Block.

Philosophy 101: The Six Branches of Philosophy

A/N: Taking a chronological approach to self-studying philosophy

This year, I have decided to take self-studying Philosophy seriously. Up to this point, I’ve been casually listening to an assortment of podcasts and reading and abandoning texts from Sartre, Plato, Aristotle, Epictetus, Simone de Beauvoir, Descartes, Kant, and Hobbes. Now, if that reads like a mess, that’s because it is.

I have been blessed with a very short attention span, which means that I am almost-hopeless at single-tasking. That spills over to reading. At the moment, I have five unfinished books on my bedside table. Every day, I read a few pages from each book—but it’s a real struggle not to add another one to that pile.

So, as you can see, I am a person that needs structure otherwise I’m all over the place. Hence, the decision to study Western Philosophy chronologically. I figured it would be easier for me to follow the birth and development of various philosophical movements this way, as opposed to randomly moving through philosophers or philosophical teachings.

That being said, on to today’s learnings.

THE SIX MAIN BRANCHES OF PHILOSOPHY

In a previous post called What is Philosophy?, we defined Philosophy as a study that “seeks to uncover the nature, root, and meaning of life, being, reality (metaphysics), ethics, and knowledge (epistemology).” As is evident in that definition, Philosophy is a study that covers a lot of ground. And like other complex fields of study, it is one that contains a multitude of classifications. Today, we’re going to be focusing on its six main branches or themes.

(Note: some sources leave out logic and politics in their lists, but I’m keeping those in.)

METAPHYSICS

Metaphysics is the philosophical branch that studies reality, existence, the nature of being, the physical world, and the universe.

It seeks to answer difficult questions like, what is the nature of reality? How can we say that the world exists outside of our thoughts? How did mankind come to be? How was the universe made? Was the universe made?  How can our disembodied minds control or affect our physical bodies? How can we prove the existence of something? Can “nothingness” exist? Etc.

EPISTEMOLOGY

Then there’s my favorite branch, Epistemology. So, Epistemology is often referred to as the theory of knowledge. It delves into the definition, scope, and parameters of knowledge and knowledge formation. It seeks to explain how we acquire knowledge, how knowledge relates to notions like justification, truth, and belief, and how and where it falls in the spectrum of certainty and error.

It is a study that asks big questions like what is knowledge? What can we know for certain? How do we know what we know? How can we acquire knowledge? What is a justified belief, and what makes it justified? Etc.

LOGIC

Logic is the branch of philosophy that studies reasoning. It teaches us how to differentiate between good and bad reasoning and how to construct valid arguments. It seeks answers to questions like, what is valid reasoning? How can you distinguish between a good argument and a bad argument? How can you spot fallacies or errors in an argument?

Now, we’ve all studied logic in one form or another. In Math class, logic came in the form of puzzles or word problems that required the use of inductive or deductive reasoning to arrive at the right equations or solutions. In English/Speech class, we studied fallacies and paradoxes and solved riddles with inferences, which taught us how to create convincing and logical arguments and how to debate properly. And the list goes on.

ETHICS

Ethics, also known as moral philosophy, is often referred to as the study of morality. It seeks to address questions about how we should live our lives, how we define proper conduct, and what we mean by the good life. It’s a study that teaches us what the virtuous life is like and how we can put these virtues into practice.

Ethics concerns itself with questions like, what is the good life? How should we act? What do we mean by virtue? What does “right” even mean?

AESTHETICS

In the world of philosophy, Aesthetics refers to the study of everything related to beauty, art, and good taste. This includes how we define art, how we feel when viewing art or witnessing beauty, how we judge works of art, and how we form our taste.

This branch of philosophy concerns itself with questions that include: What is art? What makes an artwork successful? Is art an expression of feelings? Can it be a “vehicle of truth?” Is “good taste” innate or learned? And, is art and morality connected?

POLITICAL PHILOSOPHY

Last on our list is Politics or Political Philosophy. As you can already tell from its name Political Philosophy examines various concepts related to politics, government, laws, liberty, justice, rights, authority, state, and even ethics (ethical ruling). It discusses how states should be built and run, and how its constituents should act.

It posits and attempts to answer questions like What is government? What makes a government work? Why do we need governments? What rights and freedoms should be granted to a state’s constituents? Why should the constituents follow any of the laws set by the government? What is the extent of the power of the government? And so on, and so forth.

Now, these six themes are very broad representations of the many categories in Philosophy. Of course, within these themes/branches are even more philosophical movements that give birth to more studies—seemingly ad infinitum. But that is the nature of philosophy. It’s a thinking subject. It’s a progression. It’s meant to move us forward, oftentimes by looking backwards.

Not-so-random thought:

When one thinks oneself out of a box, it’s only a matter of time before we’ve thought ourselves into another box to think out of.

Sources:
http://www.evphil.com/philosophy-101.html
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Outline_of_philosophy
https://www.philosophybasics.com/branch_logic.html
Kleinman, Paul (2013). Philosophy 101
Blackburn, Simon (Third Edition, 2016). The Oxford Dictionary of Philosophy

Memento Homo: Finding Meaning in Your Mortality

Image by: Reimund Bertrams from Pixabay

Frank Herbert once said, “To suspect your own mortality is to know the beginning of terror, to learn irrefutably that you are mortal is to know the end of terror.”

Now, being inspired by aphorisms like YOLO (you only live once) is one thing. I mean, true, there is emphasis on having one life, but it’s easy to stay positive when the conversation is about life or living. However, when you throw in words like mortality and impermanence, when the focus shifts to death, well, that’s when things can take a turn for the bleak. For most people, myself included, the idea of facing one’s impending death is a terrifying thought.

Sure, one can talk about death and the permanent peace that comes with it. But oftentimes when such talk arises, it’s one that’s cloaked in abstractness. For the healthy person, at least, death may seem like a concept—a faraway thing separate from the reality he/she inhabits.

The truth is that few people want constant reminders of the impermanence of everything—especially life. It’s certainly not small-talk material. And yet, many mental health experts believe that facing and accepting one’s mortality can be an important ingredient to a better life. In Stoicism, for example, the path to eudaimonia, a.k.a. the life worth living, requires reminding yourself of the transient nature of your life and everything and everyone you hold dear.

In Massimo Pigliucci’s enlightening book, How to Be a Stoic, he asks the readers to come to terms with the impermanence of everything. He introduces the short Latin phrase used by Roman generals to remind themselves of their mortality—memento homo, Remember, you are only a man.

Now, I don’t quite know where the phrase originated from, but according to this source, Julius Caesar had asked an Auriga (slave) to whisper it to him during his victorious march.  Memento homo was a way for the great Roman General to keep his mortality and humanity in mind in the face of his great achievements. I guess in a way it was there to keep the general’s head in the game by keeping his ego in check. And that makes perfect sense. Ancient Rome was a place rife with plotting, conniving, and murder. Letting your guard down at any moment could prove fatal. Just ask any of the 80+ Roman emperors who were assassinated.

That’s all well and good for the ancient Romans, but how exactly does facing our mortality benefit us, the modern common folk? Well, for this lifelong student, the following advantages come to mind:

Contemplating and accepting our mortality gives us time to make preparations for the inevitable.

A former colleague once joked about the best graduation gift he’s ever received. It was a funeral plan, complete with his own plot of land where he could set up camp permanently in the very distant future. I remember we all got a big laugh out of it. We were all in our early 20s and the gift had seemed ridiculous then. Fast-forward to a decade later and the gift no longer seems ridiculous—if anything, it’s practical. The last few years have taught me that death is almost always unexpected. And while I’m not telling anyone to start purchasing funeral plans, or start giving them out to friends and family at Christmas, at a certain point, we’ll all have to start making some preparations.

Whether it’s setting up a trust fund for the kids, investing in life insurance, drafting a will, or creating a map that details the location of buried treasure, I think it might somewhat help our loved ones when it’s our time to go. Of course, having a ready last will and testament will not lessen the pain experienced by one’s family, but it might prevent further friction between them. I have heard about too many families fight over property, money, and other assets. If we can help save them from that kind of pain, why wouldn’t we?

Pondering death can motivate us to live our lives intentionally.

When somebody asks you, “What is your life’s purpose?”, sometimes it may sound like a loaded question, an opening for judgment. There is pressure to give an answer that would be considered noble, grand, or laudable. Now, I know a lot of people who struggle with this question. However, the upside of choosing your life’s purpose is that you get to decide on which things give your life meaning. The truth is that you define your own goals and objectives. No one else has the right to fault you for whatever answer you may have, or if you choose not give an answer at all. As the Wiccans put it, “Do what you will if it harms none.”

And the beauty of pondering and accepting the inevitability of death is that, in a way, it can help motivate you to pursue your dreams and to focus on the things that give your life value. Life is short—oftentimes, it feels too short. So, there’s no better time to start building the life you want than the present. Whether or not you achieve all your dreams isn’t as important as going after them. That is what it means to live your life with purpose.

Remembering that we must return to dust teaches us to appreciate what we have.

Take a deep breath and picture everything and everyone you love. Let your mind’s eye dwell on every detail of every person, pet, item, or place that brings your life tremendous joy or meaning. Do you have a clear picture yet? Now, imagine each one fading into nothingness. One day, everything and everyone we love will be taken away. Either we’ll go first or they will. This is the impermanence of everything.

It’s hardly a comforting thought, I know. But you know what is comforting? It’s the fact that we’re still here—and if we’re lucky, most of the things and people we love are still here as well. Our time on Earth is very limited. So, why don’t we spend the time we have left to show our love and appreciation for our loved ones? Now, before the clock runs out.

Thinking about death offers liberation from stigma and definition.

This is where memento homo really kicks in. Imagine being one of those triumphant Roman generals. You have vanquished your enemies and you might just be the most powerful man or woman in one of the most powerful empires of all time. You are the top dog. It’s so easy to get swept up in the hype (whether yours or other people’s), and you may even fancy yourself god-like with all your amazing achievements. Then, an Auriga comes up to you and whispers, “Remember, you are only a man.”

Now, let’s flip the coin. Imagine being the general who is forced into retreat. The advancing powers have left your army decimated and you have escaped by the skin of your teeth. You are cloaked in shame and are consumed with the guilt of having disgraced your family, your ruler, and your people. You weep at the thought that your name is forever sullied by your defeat. Then, the Auriga’s words ring clear in your memory, “Remember, you are only a man.”

While, as mentioned earlier, the reminder brings a unique set of advantages to an actual general/dictator/emperor, remembering that you will one day be gone and even forgotten is still pretty good advice today. It teaches you to see yourself beyond your reputation (how other people see you), your greatest strengths, and your most staggering failings. You are going to be just one of the many people who have graced the Earth. You are neither your greatest achievement nor your greatest failure. There’s a certain poignancy and freedom that comes with truly understanding that statement.

Knowing and understanding this can help free you from whatever definition or stigma you may carry inside of you. Here is a simple fact of life. We all win some and lose some and that’s all part of the journey.

Accepting our mortality reminds us to be mindful and to live hic et nunc (here and now).

The minute we’re born, our body’s countdown to the end begins. It’s a peculiar clock. There’s no way to see how much time we have left. We have no way to halt or significantly slow its pace, though a myriad of things can quicken its ticking. This should be a reminder to us that each moment we have is precious and should not be wasted.

I believe that instinctively, we all know this to be true. And yet, so many of us still spend our days just half-present. Somehow the days meld together into an unrecognizable heap that by the end of the week, we can’t even remember what we had for breakfast last Wednesday. While man has yet to discover how to physically time travel, our minds have become proficient at living in the past and worrying about the future. Going through life in this manner, speeding through life just half-there to experience the ride is a surefire way to gather deathbed regrets. And what use is regret when you can no longer rectify your errors?

This is where the importance of mindfulness and living in the hic et nunc (here and now) comes in. When faced with certain death, you wouldn’t want to be the person who spends your final hours taking stock of the countless should’ves, would’ves, and could’ves. So, slow down. Be here now. Live every moment with intention and appreciation. Make use of the time you have left wisely and deliberately.

What is Philosophy?

Image by morhamedufmg from Pixabay

The word Philosophy is rooted in the Latin word Philosophia—a portmanteau of the two Ancient Greek words: philos which means loving and sophia, which means wisdom. So, you can say that the literal and original translation of Philosophy is the “love and pursuit of wisdom for its own sake.”

Nowadays, however, the word has taken on a broader meaning. In everyday conversation, the word is often used to refer to a person’s values and ideologies. It’s not uncommon to hear people refer to their belief systems as their philosophy/ies in life. And the usage would still be correct. However, for the purpose of this post, and most succeeding posts pertaining to this subject, we’ll be examining and using the definition of the academic discipline called Philosophy.

Merriam Webster offers a broad definition of Philosophy as “the study of ideas about knowledge, truth, and the nature and meaning of life.” While Wikipedia offers a more comprehensive definition with, “Philosophy is the study of general and fundamental questions about existence, knowledge, values, reason, mind, and language.” Now, whether you choose to go with the Merriam Webster definition or that of Wikipedia’s, you come away with a fundamental understanding that Philosophy is a thinking subject. One that requires effort, action, and deliberateness. It is a subject that seeks to uncover the nature, root, and meaning of life, being, reality (metaphysics), ethics, and knowledge (epistemology). It’s also an incredible history lesson because it gives you a glimpse of the prevalent ideologies and belief systems of various civilizations throughout the ages.

If the definition seems expansive, that’s because it is. After all, as I mentioned in an earlier post, Philosophy is regarded as the mother of all sciences. Through the constant thinking, imagining, and overthinking of various philosophers throughout history, humankind has come away with a thirst for discovery and knowledge. If curiosity killed the cat, the philosophers’ curiosity birthed modern science, critical reasoning, logic, and many of the plotlines of today’s best works of art, film, and literature.

Trivia Time: Plato’s belief that everything in the universe is patterned after “invisible geometrical shapes” (Platonic solids) helped start the study of Modern Chemistry. His telling of the story of “The Ring of Gyges” in The Republic is also the inspiration behind Tolkien’s “Lord of the Rings.” As for Aristotle, he happens to be the father of the species-genus classification that we use in Science today! He also believed the world was round long before Copernicus was even born. He came away with this conclusion after studying the lunar eclipse and the shadows created by the Earth against the Moon. And that’s just the tip of the iceberg!

So, you see, Philosophy has taught us a great many things throughout history—and it continues to offer us a plethora of learnings today. By offering us multiple perspectives on life, meaning, reality, et al., it helps expand our mindset. It teaches us to become more logical, introspective, openminded, and consequently, empathic. And since creativity means venturing past reality into the realm of possibility, there’s a great chance philosophy can also help widen and deepen our thinking process, i.e. make us more creative. All good things in my book.

 

Recommended Read: The website Philosophy Basics offers an excellent collection of the many definitions of Philosophy that you’ll find online and in various dictionaries.

Related Articles:

Writing Exercise: A Book that Changed My Life

Thoughts on Philosophy: Is studying philosophy pointless? Does it make you pretentious?

Featured Poem: Invictus by William Ernest Henley

Image by: Johnny Lindner from Pixabay

Invictus
By William Ernest Henley

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
for my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance,
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
my head is bloody but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds and shall find me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged the punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate,
I am the captain of my soul.

 

Never underestimate the transformative power of a well-crafted poem. Some poems are cathartic. They have the power to move their readers to tears or to laughter, melancholia or euphoria.  Others offer sensible life advice under the guise of metaphors and sweeping or epic imageries. They offer life lessons without getting too direct or didactic. But rarest and most precious of all, are the poems that inspire dramatic and lasting perspective and change. These are the poems that change lives and bolster the human spirit.

William Ernest Henley’s eminently popular work Invictus is the embodiment of life-changing poetry. It is a poem that has inspired some of the greatest minds in history. In his September 1941 speech at the House of Commons, the British Prime Minister Winston Churchill spoke of the imminent threat of World War II. During the speech, he affirmed the strength and resilience of his constituents, paraphrasing the final two lines of Invictus with the famous statement, “We are still masters of our fate. We are still captains of our souls.”

And, of course, there’s also the unforgettable anecdote about the late, great South African leader Nelson Mandela. During his long imprisonment in Robben Island, Nelson Mandela recited the poem to his fellow prisoners to help raise their flagging spirits. Mandela, himself, had pulled great strength from the rousing words of W.E. Henley.

Invictus, with its timeless and universal theme of resilience and indomitability in the face of hardship and near-certain defeat, has deeply resonated with many of the world’s most memorable leaders. And it continues to inspire its readers today. Its acknowledgment of human suffering and assertion of humanity’s inner strength makes Invictus one of the most powerful and inspirational poems to have ever been written.

The birth of Invictus 

Before we get to the meat of the analysis, here’s a background on the poem’s title and its writer, William Ernest Henley.

According to the Online Etymology Dictionary, Invictus is a Latin adjective used to describe something or someone that is “unconquerable, unsubdued, or invincible.” The word combines the prefix in, meaning not, and victus, from the word vincere, meaning “to conquer or overcome.” Looking at W.E. Henley’s life, it becomes apparent that the poem Invictus arose from the poet’s own experiences.

See, William Ernest Henley (1849-1903) knew a thing or two about suffering and fighting for survival. When he was just twelve years old, the poet was diagnosed with Bone Tuberculosis, a rare form of the disease that affected the skeletal system. Abscesses would form around lesions on bones, and draining these growths meant undergoing an excruciatingly painful process that Henley had to endure for many years.

By the late 1860s, the TB had progressed to the point where his left leg had to be amputated. And the disease would’ve taken his right one too, had Henley not contested the procedure. In a bid to save his right leg, he enlisted the help of the esteemed 19th-century surgeon, Joseph Lister. The treatment plan was successful, but the road to Henley’s recovery remained long and painful. W.E. Henley was confined in a hospital from 1873-1875. During this period, he wrote numerous poems about his ordeal—many of which were published in a book aptly called In Hospital.

Invictus, written in 1875, was supposed to be a part of the poetry collection, but for some reason, the 16-line masterpiece didn’t quite make the cut. The poem was eventually published in 1888 as a part of Henley’s Book of Verses.

Structure and Tone

Note: Now, there’s no mention of the sex of the speaker, but for the purpose of this analysis, I’m going to base it on Henley and just go with he/him.

Have you ever noticed how some poems just read beautifully? There’s a simplicity and balance to their structure, a smooth, almost predictable flow of rhymes and internal rhythms that translate well in readings. For me, Invictus isn’t just one of the most motivational poems in history, it’s also one of the best-sounding ones. Case in point, here’s a link to an audio recording of Morgan Freeman reading Invictus.

Aside from its wonderful message of human integrity and resolve, a part of what makes Invictus such a gorgeous piece is how tight and well-crafted the poem is. Its structure seems simple enough. Invictus is basically a four-stanza poem composed of quatrains (four lines per stanza). Each stanza follows an ABAB rhyme scheme, or an ABAB (me, pole, be, soul), CDCD (circumstance, aloud, chance, bowed), EFEF (tears, shade, years, afraid), GHGH (gate, scroll, fate, soul) scheme if we were to be more specific. This rhyme scheme creates natural pause points for the reader.

But, for me, what really makes the poem such an aural treat is its use of iambic tetrameter, almost like a metronome, to give the words a rhythmic da-dum-da-dum-da-dum sound. Try reading the poem out loud and you’ll see what I mean.

As for the tone of the work, we see a curious mix of both gravitas and optimism in each stanza. The first line of each stanza is a telling of despair, an acknowledgment of pain and suffering. While the latter lines are usually affirmations of the persona’s inner strength, determination, and courage. This is a pattern that continues throughout the work. It’s as if the persona is telling us that despite everything that’s happening, he is ready to face each challenge with courage and resilience.

Notice also how the work is written in first person and present tense. Aside from breathing life into each line, this technique also makes it easier for the readers to put themselves into the persona’s shoes. And with themes as universal as bravery, dignity, invincibility, and rising above adversity, it’s a poem that most of mankind can identify with.

Further analysis of Invictus by William Ernest Henley

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole…

The first two lines of the poem establish the bleak situation or mood that the persona finds himself in. He speaks of night, a darkness that is so hellish (the pit) that it blankets everything in sight. Now, based on this description, we can infer that the speaker is using this darkness/night as a metaphor for feelings of helplessness, desolation, hopelessness, or even depression. But instead of dwelling or surrendering to these feelings, he opts to look at things in a different light. He goes:

I thank whatever gods may be
for my unconquerable soul.

The word thank brings to mind both choice and action. The persona is actively choosing to feel gratitude and hope despite being mired in a dire situation. But notice the curious way he expresses his gratitude. He expresses thanks to whatever gods may be—a statement that seems to indicate the possibility of a higher power or a number of higher powers, but not the certainty. In short, it’s a line that hints at the speaker’s possible agnosticism. And if we look at the quality that he’s thankful for, his unconquerable soul, the last two lines can also be interpreted as more of a declaration of the persona’s indomitability rather than a mere articulation of thanks.

In the fell clutch of circumstance,
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

This pattern of recounting the negative aspects of life followed by an assertion of the persona’s unbroken spirit continues in the second stanza. Here we see the persona speak of the cruel nature of existence—the fell clutch of circumstance and the bludgeonings of chance—as terrible events that occur outside of his control. The use of the word bludgeoning, brings to mind the idea of feeling beaten down by life. And yet, while such events may be unavoidable, what he can and does control is how he reacts to them.

He tells us, I have not winced nor cried aloud… My head is bloody, but unbowed. He may not have escaped such tragedies unscathed, but he refuses to be bogged down by these experiences. This stanza actually reminds me of something I read on W.E. Henley’s Wikipedia page. According to his brother, every time Henley had to undergo the draining of the abscesses in his joints—a very painful procedure, to be sure—Henley would try to mask the pain he was feeling. After each session, he would “Hop about the room, laughing loudly and playing with zest to pretend he was beyond the reach of pain.”

If anything, this anecdote shows us how personal the poem is to Henley. And when he speaks about a place of wrath and tears in the third stanza, one can imagine that the poet/persona is referring to both life and the hospital—a place that is often steeped with anguish, pain, and suffering.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds and shall find me unafraid.

The second line in this stanza, Looms but the Horror of the shade, is also possibly a reference to facing one’s mortality. But again, these years of suffering or menace have not been enough to break the persona/poet. And just as sure as he has faced these trials with courage and defiance, he assures the reader that any challenges he will face in the future will be met with the same resoluteness. These challenges shall find him unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate,
I am the captain of my soul.

The poem then reaches its climax in the final stanza. Here, Henley borrows a concept from the New Testament of the King James Version of the Bible. The line It matters not how strait the gate appears to be a response to Matthew 7:13-14, which says:

Enter ye at the strait gate: for wide is the gate, and broad is the way that leadeth to destruction, and many there be which go in thereat:

Because strait is the gate, and narrow is the way, which leadeth unto life, and there be few that find it.

This biblical passage tells us that to get to heaven, we need to walk the narrow path (the good path).  The next line, How charged with punishments the scroll, also appears to allude to the religious idea of our sins being weighed when we enter the afterlife. The tally on the scroll will determine where we go—heaven or hell.

And yet, what the persona in Invictus tells us is that these things don’t matter to him. He will not let such standards determine the course of his life. He will not bow to life’s hardships, nor would he be swayed by other people’s criteria. He says finally and definitively these iconic lines, I am the master of my fate, I am the captain of my soul.

Thoughts on Philosophy: Is studying philosophy pointless? Does it make you pretentious?

Photo by Janeb13 (from Pixabay)

In a previous post called Writing Exercises: A Book that Changed My Life, I talked about how Sophie’s World started my love for Philosophy. Now, let me begin by saying that I am by no means an expert on the subject matter. In fact, when we were studying the subject in college, I was a rather mediocre student. As was the case with Math and Physics, my love affair with Philosophy was very one-sided. But it’s a love of mine that’s endured the years, and one that I’m keen on nurturing and strengthening—occasionally through short courses but mostly through reading and listening to lectures and podcasts.

Now, over the years, I’ve noticed that Philosophy has a bit of a reputation problem. As a conversation topic, unless you’re surrounded by other enthusiasts, it’s bound to be a pretty quick stopper. People may nod or hmm politely, but it’s not very likely that you’d get any follow-up questions. Some people may even find the very word itself to be a bit of an internal ugh or eyeroll trigger. According to some friends, it’s just because philosophy is one of those things that are hard to get into. Some people find the subject inaccessible, boring, or even useless. Others have confessed to just finding people who talk about it really smug and annoying. And yes, the word pretentious did come up frequently and forcefully.

And honestly, I get it. I really do. People like what they like and are entitled to their opinions. I also see how philosophy isn’t exactly the most relatable or accessible, outwardly practical or interesting subject out there. In fact, a lot of philosophical texts are loaded with highfalutin words and stubbornly abstract concepts. I also get that some philosophy fans do come across as pretentious, arrogant, argumentative, and snooty know-it-alls. And hey, maybe some of them really are all those things and more. But what I’m really more interested in and concerned with are the harsh generalizations about the subject and its students that I’ve heard about or seen, (mostly online).

I think a lot of these misconceptions and generalizations stem from a misunderstanding of what philosophy is and what it’s used for. But before we get into the definition of philosophy and an enumeration of its uses, (things I’ll tackle in a separate post), I’d like to share a few of my thoughts on some of the criticisms levied against philosophy and its students.  Just my two cents, really.

1. Not everyone who studies philosophy is pretentious or intellectually arrogant. To say that everyone who studies philosophy is pretentious or an intellectual snob is a pretty heavy generalization. As I’ve mentioned earlier, I’m sure there are some philosophy students who think they are smarter than the average joe or jane, but that’s not an always and everybody case. In fact, some of the most low-key, quiet, and humble people I’ve met happen to be philosophy professors or graduates. Pretentiousness and intellectual snobbery occur in every possible realm of study where conflicting opinions could arise—which is basically everywhere and regarding everything these days. I believe that being pretentious or having a superiority complex is more of a personality thing than a byproduct of studying or loving a specific subject.

 

2. Philosophy is only as boring as every other subject you can think of. The word boring is incredibly subjective. What’s boring to one person is another person’s passion. Philosophy isn’t and doesn’t have to be everyone’s cup of tea.

 

3. Many philosophy books feel inaccessible with their highfalutin words and hard-to-understand concepts. But there’s a solution to that problem. I don’t know about other philosophy fans, but I find original texts (translated into English) hard to grasp at times. To make it easier to study a particular branch of philosophy, I usually take short online courses, read Introduction to Philosophy books, and listen to various lectures just to get a better grasp of what a particular philosopher is teaching. I also think that some texts are designed to be hard reads with circuitous verse or logic, (Plato, anyone?), because the writer wants you to really pause and digest what you’re reading. It’s healthy brain exercise.

 

4. Yes, some philosophers and their students may seem bullheaded or argumentative at times, but the end goal isn’t (or shouldn’t be) to be proven right. A philosopher’s quest is always to get to the truth of a particular belief or statement. This is where the Socratic Method comes in. As you can tell from its name, the Socratic Method refers to the teaching technique used by Socrates. Unlike most of today’s instructors, Socrates didn’t teach via key points and definitions. Instead, he taught by asking a lot, and I mean a lot of questions. It was his way of seeking truth. Naturally, this method annoyed a lot of powerful people during Socrates’ time, which eventually and unfortunately earned the philosopher his death sentence. Philosophers are truth-seekers, and sometimes this means pitting their beliefs against the beliefs of others as a way to check the strength and verity of their assumptions. Sincere philosophers will welcome being proven wrong if it means bringing them closer to the truth.

 

5. We are all philosophers, sort of. Okay, so maybe very few of us have published books or articles on philosophy, and even fewer have earned MAs and PHDs in the field. But if you closely examine the foundations of many of our beliefs and principles, a lot of them are rooted, (at least partially), in some ancient philosophical movement. For example, in his book How to Be a Stoic, Massimo Pigliucci points out the similarities between an Epictetus quote (Stoicism) and The Serenity Prayer. The Epictetus quote partially reads, “Make the best use of what is in your power, and take the rest as it happens. Some things are up to us and some things are not up to us.” Now, consider the start of The Serenity Prayer, “God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.” See the similarities? This belief that we ought to recognize and focus our efforts on the areas that we can control is also one that transcends religion. It’s a nugget of wisdom that secularists also try to practice.

 

6. Philosophy has a lot of practical everyday uses. Though it may not be as obviously practical as studying medicine or law, or any other empirical subject out here, Philosophy is NOT a useless endeavor. In fact, here’s a bit of trivia: Philosophy is the mother of all sciences. Modern science, as we know it, along with the study of logic (mathematics) and even language arose partially from the efforts of the ancient philosophers. So, that alone shows the importance of the subject. But what about its everyday uses? Well, from experience, studying the different branches of philosophy has made me more openminded and emphatic. I find that the more I study philosophy, the less inclined I am to make snap judgments about things and people. The discipline has also improved my critical thinking, creativity, and problem-solving skills by pushing me to think logically and outside the box. And lastly and most importantly, it has inspired me to always try to do good by others. All fine things in my book.

Ten Common Grammatical Mistakes Writers Make

When it comes to writing, whether you’re penning a blog post, an essay, a poem, or a novel, having sound grammar is a must. No matter how golden your plot or message may be, if your work is littered with grammatical errors, then you run the very real risk of losing your readers before they even get to the good parts.

Now, one of the biggest lessons I’ve learned about writing is that there’s no skipping the fundamentals. You’ll need a fairly good grasp of grammar to secure a writing gig. And if you’re thinking of getting your novel published, then it’s safe to say that you’ll need more than just a good grasp. Think rock-solid, strongman-level clench.

Another (hard) lesson I’ve learned is that no matter how good of a writer you think you are, there’s always going to be room for improvement. Grammar, for all its rigidity, is actually quite the slippery sucker. It definitely helps to brush up on your grammar once in a while. That’s exactly what I was up to when I came across the following words/phrases. Think of this little list as a cheat sheet of sorts—that’s certainly how I’m treating it.

So, without further ado, here are ten of the most common grammatical mistakes even seasoned writers make.

1. Using i.e. and e.g. interchangeably.

 When I was in school, i.e. and e.g. were exclusively used for formal papers. Nowadays, however, more and more people are using i.e. and e.g. casually and interchangeably, usually when introducing further examples of what they were referring to. Now, like their ever-trusty cousin etc. (et cetera), i.e. and e.g. are Latin abbreviations. They actually mean very different things. The key to using them properly lies in knowing their respective definitions.

Let’s start with e.g., which is short for exempli gratia. Bit of a mouthful, but the first word gives you an idea of what it stands for. Exempli is pretty close to example, isn’t it? That’s because the phrase exempli gratia means “for example.” So, if you’ve been using e.g. when citing examples, then good job! You’ve hit the nail on its head.

As for i.e., it means id est, which translates to “that is.” So, if you’re referring to something specific to clarify or solidify your statement, i.e. is the way to go. Now, some people use the formula “i.e. = in essence,” which is a pretty neat trick too. Just don’t forget the Latin phrase in case the internet police come after you.

Some examples:

I’m thinking of binge-watching some shows this week, (e.g. Mad Men, Mindhunter, The Good Place, Brooklyn 99, Grace and Frankie), and then tweeting nonstop about how much work I still have to do. That’s the plan.

I’m busy doing creative research (i.e. binge-watching Mad Men).

2. Free reign vs. free rein

 Homophones are very tricky, especially when we’re talking idioms and common phrases. This one is particularly thorny, I think, because in a way both statements seem to make sense. Free reign vs. free rein. The first one conjures images of being a ruling monarch given absolute power to do as one chooses. The latter brings to mind how one can gently loosen the reins when horseback riding to allow the horse more freedom of movement.

These days, both phrases are used in magazine articles and news websites. But according to Merriam-Webster, the correct phrase is free rein. It means to be given “unrestricted liberty of action or decision.” The phrase was originally a term used in horseback-riding to refer to a way of holding the horse’s reins/straps. Sometime in the 17^th century, however, free rein founds its figurative footing and has since been used to refer to “freedom of expression or action.”

As for free reign, it is but an eggcorn—it sounds right and feels right but is ultimately wrong.

Example:

Some days it feels as if the people have given a monster free rein to run the country into ruin. –dystopian novels and dissatisfied constituents

3. With baited breath vs. with bated breath

Another homophone, but an easier fix this time. If you read the first phrase again, you’ll see that it doesn’t make much sense. To bait someone is to deliberately try to annoy someone or make him/her angry. You use bait to catch fish or whatever else you want to trap or hunt—I’m hoping not humans. A clickbait is when you get lured to a website or webpage—oftentimes through misrepresentation of content. So, essentially, it doesn’t make sense to use the phrase, with baited breath.

As for bated, it refers to a diminishment or a restraint of “force or intensity.” So, saying with bated breath is perfectly acceptable. The phrase means the act of holding your breath in anticipation, anxiety, fear, nervousness, or suspense.

Example:

He waited for her answer with bated breath, but she said nothing. Her face remained impassive as ever, even as she made a move to take the ring from his hand.

4. Of vs. Have (as in should of/have, would of/have, could of/have)

Now, you may think this one’s pretty basic, but it’s a mistake that a lot of people make. Though not exactly homophones, of and have, (specifically the contraction of the latter), are close enough in sound to confuse a number of people.

Of, of course, is a preposition used to refer to the relationship or connection of two items, things, or groups. That is to say that you use of when referring to something or someone that belongs to or hails from something, someone, or somewhere else. For example, you say that “This painting is truly the work of a genius.” Or you can say, “Hermione Granger is the brightest witch of her generation.”

Based on that definition, you can see that it doesn’t really make sense to pair of with should, would, or could, especially if your intent is to convey regret or the possibility of something. As you’ll see in the following examples, the right expressions are: should have, would have, and could have.

Incorrect: She should of known better.

Correct: She should have known better.

Incorrect: Had I known about this sooner, I would of acted differently.

Correct: Had I known about this sooner, I would have acted differently.

Incorrect: I could of sworn that was you!

Correct: I could have sworn that was you!

5. Emigrated vs. Immigrated/Emigrate vs. Immigrate

Ah, emigrated and immigrated—another set of words similar enough in pronunciation to cause serious confusion. Again, the key to using the right word here is through learning each word’s definition. See, emigrate means leaving your country to live somewhere else. While immigrate means come to another country to live there. Essentially, you’re emigrating from your homeland, and immigrating to or into another country.

For example:

Due to the rampant property- and business-grabbing of President X’s government, people were forced to emigrate from X-land in search of better opportunities.

They immigrated to the United States in the 1980s.

6. Peak vs. Pique vs. Peek

Sneak peek or sneak peak? Piqued my interest or peaked my interest? These are some of the questions I’ve seen online regarding these three words. Here’s what each word means:

Peak means the highest point of something. As in, to summit the peak of Mount Everest.

Pique, when used as a verb, can mean two things: to excite or to stimulate, (ex. piqued my curiosity), and to feel annoyance or irritation (His glib remark left me feeling piqued).

As for Peek, well, that’s when you use your peepers to look at something, (ex. She took a furtive peek at the exam’s answer sheet.)

Now, as you can see from those definitions, if you’re talking about the opportunity to see something before its official release, (ex. movie trailers, book snippets), then you’re getting a sneak peek. If you’re after the word that describes either the metaphorical or physical pinnacle of something, then the word is peak. For example, Based on last night’s game, Dejounte Murray is back in peak condition. And lastly, if you’re referring to excitement, resentment, or curiosity being stirred, then piqued is the way to go. For example, Malcolm Gladwell’s recent round of interviews has piqued my interest in his new book, “Talking to Strangers.”

7. Compliment vs. Complement

Some time ago, I stayed in a hotel that offered an array of very nice freebies. While the items were very much appreciated, the misprint on the card that read “complementary,” threw me for a moment. I was pretty sure the proper word was complimentary, but I’m not ashamed to say that I did double-check with a dictionary app just to be sure.

Turns out, the right word is complimentary. See, while both of these words may be rooted in the Latin word, complere, which means “to complete,” time has allowed both words to develop their own meanings and usages. Let’s start with the one that comes closest to its Latin ancestor.

According to Merriam Webster, complement is “something that completes something else or makes it better.” While the adjective complementary means “goes together well.”

A compliment, on the other hand, refers to the expression of praise, admiration, or approval. As for complimentary, the adjective can mean either “expressing admiration” or “something that’s given for free.”

Here are some examples of how these words are used:

The gravelly quality of Johnny Cash’s voice, coupled with his emotional delivery of the lyrics, complemented the dark and painful message of the song Hurt.

The fact that Johnny Cash chose to cover the Nine Inch Nails song is a massive compliment to Trent Reznor’s writing and composing abilities.

While planning my wedding, I spent a lot of time looking for complementary colors that would fit our spring-literary theme.

The hotel offered the newlyweds a complimentary basket of fruits and a bottle of wine.

8. Between vs. Among

Though often used interchangeably, the difference between the two words is pretty straightforward. You use between when referring to specific or distinct items. And contrary to popular belief, these items need not be limited to two choices. While the word among is used when you’re pertaining to things or people in a collective and not distinct manner. (Or is it non-distinct?)

Examples:

When given a choice between coffee, orange juice, and tea, I always choose the first as my preferred breakfast drink.

Contrary to popular belief, there can be honor among thieves. (Though that honor is tenuous at best, if you ask me.)

9. Shoe-in vs. Shoo-in

Perhaps it’s the foot-in-the-door association that’s done it, but there seems to be a large number of people who use shoe-in when referring to a sure winner. The right expression when you’re talking about someone or something that’s certain to succeed is shoo-in. You know, as in when you urge something or someone forward, as in you shoo them forward.

Example:

With her aunt as one of the judges, she’s a shoo-in to win the pageant.

10. I could care less vs. I couldn’t care less

Now, unlike the previous entries where there’s a clear-cut right and wrong answer, this one has to do with what you want to say. Of course, the common expression is I couldn’t care less, as in I don’t care at all. Hence the contraction in couldn’t. But technically you can say I could care less, if that’s exactly what you mean. It all boils down to context.

Examples:

I couldn’t care less about who wins the next race. My team’s already out of the running, so it doesn’t matter who wins first place. (I don’t care.)

I could care less about the results of the upcoming elections, that’s true. But it’s not in my nature to be apathetic about something that affects my family’s day-to-day existence. (I care.)

These are just some of the trickier grammar problems I’ve personally encountered while writing, or seen online while doing research. I’m sure there are many more words and phrases that we can learn together. What about you? Any other words or idioms you’ve struggled with?