The Pierian Spring

Today was somehow a happy and eventful day, without anything really happening. The one exception is that my youngest uncle (also godfather) returned to Kevelaer today after visiting us over the weekend. I woke up early (before ten!!) in order to say goodbye.

After breakfast I browsed YouTube. In between video clips I tried to make Glühwein (mulled wine) for a second time because the weather is becoming very cold. Since I hadn't accidentally dumped tons of powdered cinnamon into the wine this time, it was not gruesomely bitter. Invigorated (and with slightly flushed cheeks), I then took up my studies, still in the format where I pretend that I'm still at university and learn things for fifty-minute segments until five o'clock, with a lunch break from noon to one o'clock.

First of all, I listened as Papa read out a chapter from Bertrand Russell's History of Western Philosophy on Spinoza. Some of Spinoza's opinions I admired (for the simple reason that I share them), while others seemed completely bizarre to me -- for instance that no one can change the future. I fear that not much of the information about Spinoza is sticking, and that I did not think about any of Spinoza's ideas in any depth, but I'm hoping that I will make more of the ideas when I'm older and that some previous knowledge will help then. A very amusing sentence described how irate religious authorities showered Spinoza with select Biblical curses, in spite of which, Russell informs us, that much-maligned philosopher was not eaten up by She-Bears. Anyway, then I read part of Two Gentlemen of Verona before dozing off for about twenty minutes. After that it was time for lunch, so I went for a walk to the Kleistpark.

Then I resumed my studies rather irregularly. For about half an hourI read about France up to the meeting of the Estates General on May 5, 1789, and perused a map of Europe at that time, in the Propyläen Weltgeschichte (1929 edition).
Some thoughts:
1. It was interesting to note the effect that the reforms under Louis XVI had -- quite adverse.Once I find a more detailed source, I will try to answer this question: is making concessions to rebellious parties merely ceding to the inevitable, or actually hastening the inevitable, or even enabling events that are not inevitable?
2. It's interesting how, even before the French Revolution truly began, the Wheel of Fate was already remorselessly turning to crush those who had once been at its top, and who had themselves done what they could to facilitate the crushing of others. For instance, the discontented actions of the aristocrats and of the clergy against the king set in motion a tide of rebellion that soon turned against them.
3. There is something deeply pitiful in the ill-starred French government's bottomless spending and borrowing, appointment of minister after minister, formulation of strict edicts that could not be enforced, and hard-won concessions that in the end helped nothing. At the same time,
4. I was surprised that the point of view of the French peasants was not represented, except that it was clearly shown that they had to bear an obscene tax burden that was intensified by corruption.

Then, for perhaps another half hour, I read gardening tips. If only I had been more interested and willing to learn when I had a garden at my disposal! But it was nice either way. And that is the sum of my official learning today. After my studies I

- made lunch (beef bouillon with sliced onions and noodles and egg and a dash of wine; boiled potatoes; and a universally acclaimed mixture of yoghurt, whipped cream, cherries, vanilla sugar, and a dash of sherry)
- played pieces from Bach's Well-Tempered Clavier, Book II
- watched more video clips on YouTube
- read a letter from a relative
- read An Illumined Face and From Jest to Earnest by Edward Payson Roe (I don't know whether its literary worth is particularly great, but it's the kind of book that leaves a nice feeling behind after you -- or at least I -- read it)
- planned dinner for tomorrow (cream of mushroom soup from scratch, chicken prepared by Papa, rapunzel salad, and an apple cake)
- accompanied J. on the piano while he sang German folksongs admirably in a hilarious high-pitched imitation of professional lady singers (we collapsed into giggles frequently)

The abovementioned books of questionable literary merit have again raised thoughts of religion that have been stirred up by the other pious works that I've come across in Project Gutenberg. It's pleasant to speculate that a beneficent omnipotent and omniscient entity may be out there. What if goodness is not in vain, and people always find happiness in the end? At the same time these thoughts of religiousness prompt the question whether I shouldn't be doing something useful for other people. I can feel intense sympathy for people, but I think that my only real contribution to humanity (i.e. my work with Amnesty International) has been mostly motivated by a desire to feel good about myself, and that I don't understand the reality of the people whom I'm trying to help. I don't know if I can step out of my own self-centred preoccupations thoroughly enough to give others genuine understanding and sympathy and help.

P.S.: Out of the books mentioned yesterday, so far I have read the first scene of Zaire.
P.P.S.: Disclaimer: Regarding the post title, while I do know the quotation "A little knowledge is a dangerous thing . . .", plus the fact that it comes from Alexander Pope's Essay on Criticism, I haven't the least idea what a "Pierian spring" is.