Beauty is its own excuse for being

"The Rhodora" by Ralph Waldo Emerson

On being asked, Whence is the flower?

In May, when sea-winds pierced our solitudes,
I found the fresh Rhodora in the woods,
Spreading its leafless blooms in a damp nook,
To please the desert and the sluggish brook.
The purple petals, fallen in the pool,
Made the black water with their beauty gay;
Here might the red-bird come his plumes to cool,
And court the flower that cheapens his array.
Rhodora! if the sages ask thee why
This charm is wasted on the earth and sky,
Tell them, dear, that if eyes were made for seeing,
Then Beauty is its own excuse for being:
Why thou wert there, O rival of the rose!
I never thought to ask, I never knew:
But, in my simple ignorance, suppose
The self-same Power that brought me there brought you.

Flowers are beautiful for the sake of beauty

Culture: from the Latin cultura; stemming from colere, meaning "to cultivate"

Off to Chicago tonight, but first a quick note: I've had all of my classes now, minus meeting with my thesis adviser and may I just say? This is going to be an amazing semester, even if the reading will be immense and slightly overwhelming in terms of volume. I started reading 'Go Down, Moses' by Faulkner; Southern literature is so dark and gothic. Thomas More is quickly being idealized in my mind as the best of men, and I half-wish I had majored in chemistry (the science I like best) and was more interested in pursuing a masters in history of science like Kalthoff. Siegel was my American Heritage teacher freshman year and the first teacher I actually liked at Hillsdale (which is funny because he oftentimes petrifies people with his sarcastic and challenging academic demands), so it will be wonderful ending my college career by taking another course with him, even if it is an honors seminar. I also saw a copy of 'The Loved One' in Prof. Siegel's office today and was happy to hear he lends it to students, because it is one of my favoritest books.

Today's poem is an early one by Ralph Waldo Emerson. I remember last semester, I was reading Emerson while studying with three friends. One of the guys asked if he could play a song out-loud in the room for us, and it was a beautiful, Christian song. I had just been reading about how Emerson saw God in everything around him, particularly in nature, but when I shared that with the gang, a different friend got indignant that I even liked Emerson, especially because I am a Catholic (which apparently she meant because Catholics are so orthodox and Emerson was certainly not).

I don't see it that way though. I do like Emerson, although perhaps Thoreau a little less. I don't compare him to me and then decide what is true, because we both know the ultimate Truth. I've definitely been influenced by reading Salt of the Earth by German journalist and fallen-away Catholic Peter Seewald (published October 1997). The book is an interview with Pope Benedict XVI when he was still Cardinal Ratzinger. Seewald asked Ratzinger how many ways there are to God--imagining, I suppose, he would say The Church. Rather, Ratzinger delivered, in my opinion, one of the best replies. He said:

As many as there are people. Even within the same faith each man's way is an entirely personal one. We have Christ's word: I am the way. In that respect, there is ultimately one way, and everyone who is on the way to God is therefore in some sense also on the way of Jesus Christ. But this does not mean that all ways are identical in terms of consciousness and will, but, on the contrary, the one way is so big that it becomes a personal way for each man.

It should not be surprising to hear then, following the publication of that book, Seewald returned to the faith. Ratzinger/ Pope Benedict XVI sees God as an active force in the world. We are all reflections of Him and yet we are so individual, something He embraces and wants, with each of us reflecting a different facet of God and all potentially being in communion with Him. It's the same with Emerson. There is something to be said about recognizing God in this world, especially as His presence is being sabotaged in society today. RWE may not approach God the same way I do, but he still acknowledged and followed Him, which means we are united in the same faith even if we do not share the same denomination. I would never push aside the importance of dogma in theology, nor do I follow Emerson's Unitarianism, but in the face of secularism, Christ needs to be a culture, not just a character.

I'm also reminded of Jack Kerouac, whom I wrote one of my favorite papers of my collegiate career on at the end of my second semester junior year. People love claiming him and the beat generation as grounds for their own depravity. Kerouac, however, called it the "beat generation" because of the Italian word "beatific" (happiness, blessed); he wanted it to be a religious revival movement. He was a lapsed Catholic who dabbled in Buddhism, and yet very much a believing man whose Catholicism influenced everything in his life--especially his writings. Kerouac was a man who found God in the sky, in the bums he met, and on the road, as a modernist, pseduo-Wandering Jew. We're all on a road in this life. It's not surprising the Western canon is filled with images of roads, and not at all ironic that in a few hours I'll be on a road to Chicago with Julia, towards an interview that will lead somewhere, whether or not I get the job.

Anyways, enjoy! I don't think the above has relevance to the poem below, but I do think the poem is best when heard and read aloud, so that the tongue can catch the rhythm and tone. The last two lines are my favorite.

Give All To Love By Ralph Waldo Emerson

Give all to love;
Obey thy heart;
Friends, kindred, days,
Estate, good fame,
Plans, credit, and the muse;
Nothing refuse.

'Tis a brave master,
Let it have scope,
Follow it utterly,
Hope beyond hope;
High and more high,
It dives into noon,
With wing unspent,
Untold intent;
But 'tis a god,
Knows its own path,
And the outlets of the sky.
'Tis not for the mean,
It requireth courage stout,
Souls above doubt,
Valor unbending;
Such 'twill reward,
They shall return
More than they were,
And ever ascending.

Leave all for love;—
Yet, hear me, yet,
One word more thy heart behoved,
One pulse more of firm endeavor,
Keep thee to-day,
To-morrow, for ever,
Free as an Arab
Of thy beloved.
Cling with life to the maid;
But when the surprise,
Vague shadow of surmise,
Flits across her bosom young
Of a joy apart from thee,
Free be she, fancy-free,
Do not thou detain a hem,
Nor the palest rose she flung
From her summer diadem.

Though thou loved her as thyself,
As a self of purer clay,
Tho' her parting dims the day,
Stealing grace from all alive,
Heartily know,
When half-gods go,
The gods arrive.

In other first-week-of-school news, my friend Matt N. gave me a lovely bicycle bell as a belated Christmas present last night, as he promised/ threatened he would, because of an incident last semester that involved me riding my bike to the library one night and Matt's allegations that I almost ran over him.

It's a glamorous day at the Robison house

Okay, so I didn't start out my morning with a mimosa, which would have been pretty terrific, but glamour comes in all shades. Since the little kids were lounging around, I had them help make the beds and put away the books in the library that they had scattered about, while I picked up around the upstairs as well. 

In the meantime, I found my favorite pair of heels on the steps and decided to wear them around the house. (I'm in a jersey knit dress, so I did not look completely ridiculous.) They are silver and pointy; I bought them for the Sigma Chi formal my sophomore year. They were my favorite part of that whole dance, to say the least. Meanwhile, my sister Meg, who just turned 10, came into the family room (where I am working) with a blue margarita glass filled with milk. How chic! It was one of the glasses left over from her mermaid/ tropical birthday party a little over a week ago. We are certainly living large here in the Midwest haha.

Today my friend Hunter had this as his gchat status: "This is America, pick a job and become the person who does it." He tells me it is a line from the show "Mad Men." I've never seen it, being completely out of the t.v./ pop culture loop, but with lines like that, there must be merit! 

Regardless of origin, I love that line. It reminds me of when Emerson said that the great thinkers people read about were too once young students in the library learning. It's exciting to me to think that people I know and work with will be the the minds shaping the future of our great country. Robert Novak died today; why do people take note? Hundreds of other people died today, more will die tomorrow. It matters because of what he accomplished in his lifetime. He wasn't always Robert Novak, to borrow and paraphrase a much more famous line. 

I wonder who will rise and fall in our lifetime. If we really want to make a change in this world, then we need to find our true vocation and do the best we can. If it's what we're meant to do, we'll thrive. We might not find it right away, but that's okay. Life is a journey, not a destination. Even if you're lucky enough to find your calling early in life, it's what you make of it. Plenty of people do what they love but don't capitalize on it. Could one even imagine a world where people fulfilled their potential?

I have ordered my books for senior year. It was very exciting to see my book list and remind myself what awesome classes I am going to be taken. My courses for Fall 2009 will be as follows:

--The American Founding with Birzer 

--Robert Frost with Sundahl and Willson

--honors seminar on the lost art of epistolary communication (i.e. letters through history!) with Wenzel

--CCA I: Abraham Lincoln , Alexis de Tocqueville and America

--CCA II: Modern and Traditional Western Architecture

--Major Figures in Journalism (i.e. reading plenty of Mencken, Buckley and Orwell!) with Simmons

--Art History: Prehistoric to Renaissance with Bushey

--senior thesis (the degradation of the family with the expansion of government in the 20th century) with Carlson

One of my reviewers and I have been going back and forth with her review. She sent me the final paragraph to look over (I had not liked the way she had ended the review in an earlier draft, although the overall review was extremely solid), and I am happy to say that we now have one review ready for the presses! I got a book in the mail last night I shall be giving to a reviewer and contacting another publisher to order a book I saw reviewed in the Financial Times called "Slumming: Sexual and Racial Encounters in American Nightlife, 1885-1940" by Chad Heap. I'm going to need to make up the calender of when the reviews are going to be published today so that I can better plan for the coming semester and have time to order the j-pegs from the publishers. They can have their own finicky time tables, which I would rather not have to deal with on top of everything else this semester.

Back to writing my review while listening to Copland's "Appalachian Spring." Heidi just left me to be with John, who is working on his summer reading report. Megan is most likely in her room, reading or writing on her typewriter (her favorite present from this past Christmas). Mike might be reading in his room as well, but more likely has popped out of the house to see friends. Marianne just got home from school. I still can't believe she's a freshman in high school! (I was in the 3rd grade when she was born, if that is any indication at how swiftly time wriggles away.)