Table of Contents
PrefaceI. Sublimity as the Bedrock of ValuesII. On ElitismIII. On the EstablishmentIV. On the Figure of JesusV. On IdentityVI. The ExistentialistVII. On Chopin’s WaltzesVIII. On MortalityIX. On CreativityX. Music - the UniversalXI. On the IconicXII. The Purpose of LifeXIII. The Life of the ImaginationXIV. Religion vs. The EnlightenmentXV. A Reappraisal of MoralsXVI. Thoughts on Man
Preface
These brief aphoristic essays originally appeared as part of a series of blog posts, written in 2015. I have edited them for this edition, with the intention of reaching a wider audience. I hope you find these essays both interesting and useful.
They cover a broad variety of topics, mainly philosophical in nature. I am chiefly interested in the spiritual, the creative and the rational. They can be easily read in one sitting, or reflected on at greater leisure.
I. Sublimity as the Bedrock of Values
There can be no authentic human happiness, both in the Aristotelian sense of human
flourishing, and in the common emotive sense, without a grounding in the value of sublimity.
The sublime is everything – it is the purpose of existence. Without the sublime, there is only
a flat, monochrome existence; we are not engaged in our deepest being. There has to be an
engagement with artistic inspiration, with the creative arts or broader culture, and an
acknowledgement of the essential spiritual intangibility of ultimate purpose.
We are deeply creative and spiritual beings – our purpose can never be circumscribed by
material values. In the Neoplatonic schema, matter is the lowest element, being pure
privation, and requiring the imbuement of soul. Now this shows that material things generally
are empty without soul. The only authentic establishment of meaning comes from creative
values. One must transcend the agora, retire from the forum and set about creating a unique
spiritual value.
Only thus can humanity reach its truest potential.
II. On Elitism
The mass of culture is degrading – one should aim for the heights; it is also low cost to do
so.
Much of culture nowadays has degenerated into distracting diversions, with no inherent
spiritual or artistic content. There is some merit in the best of so-called pop culture, but in
general the television is an utterly dismal medium. Reading and music are still the cultural
activities par excellence; indeed nothing can replace the written word for its concision and
majesty.
One can affect an elitism without wealth or honours; one need not be privileged. A good
education is sometimes necessary, in order to have the impetus to read the best authors, but
not always so. I have known an elite educational setting, and although it can confer the right
environmental factors for development, it was not a happy place for my soul. The greatest
cultural advantages are democratically available, on online retailers, for a reasonable price.
Elitism is a mindset – it is the pursuit of excellence. Technology is improving so rapidly, that
the very best is now in the hands of the lower middle class. Emperors could not have dreamt
of such privilege. One only needs a willing mind to actualise such advantages. Aim for the
very best – create a paradisiacal cultural sanctuary within your home. And you will reap the
rewards to the very core of your being.
III. On the Establishment
Have read Owen Jones’ book The Establishment. Very entertaining work, in which Mr Jones
sets out his credentials. Of course, the presence of a powerful elite does not bother me. I
would rather we were in the hands of capable and well-educated people than a true
Athenian democracy, where Anytus, Meletus and Lycon rule the roost.
In this regard, the thought of Hans-Hermann Hoppe is interesting, in his nostalgia for
monarchies. I would rather trust safe governance to the brightest minds, than have Socrates
condemned to death. It seems I am not alone – although there is some degree of alienation
from our political system, no-one is suggesting a viable change.
In primitive hunter-gatherer societies, status was incredibly important, with members vying
for alpha male status. I would like to think we live in more enlightened times, in which one
can transcend negative aspects of the will to power. Meritocracy is a kind of will to power in
itself, but for those who give themselves the public challenge, they become servants of the
people. As Lao Tzu famously stated: ‘Men hate to be “orphaned,” “widowed,” or “worthless,”
but this is how kings and lords describe themselves’.
For one gains by losing and loses by gaining. I support the establishment.
IV. On the Figure of Jesus
What are we to make of the God-man: his legacy and his authentic spiritual meaning?
I have always encountered difficulty with Jesus. In my prayer I tend to address the Father;
indeed my closest relationship to Jesus is during the Sorrowful Mysteries of the Rosary (from
the Agony in the Garden to the Crucifixion). Outside this time, my spiritual relation to Jesus
is limited. But what are we to make of his legacy?
Some of the Gospel sayings of Jesus are full of inspiring wisdom – ‘a man cannot serve two
masters’, ‘I came not to send peace, but the sword’, ‘for where thy treasure is, there is thy
heart also’. Some of the parables have become rather ordinary with over-familiarity, but they
are still powerful messages. The overturning of the tables is interesting for revealing a
complex character.
The spiritual meaning of Jesus is difficult to answer. ‘Behold, I stand at the door and knock!’
(Revelation 3:20); there is the famous Victorian painting ‘Light of the World’, which I dislike,
based on this quotation. We are meant to respond in our hearts to Jesus’ invitation; the
trouble is my main spiritual relationship is with the Father, and that is how I prefer it.
However I can take small steps, such as the excellent morning prayer, the ‘Litany of the Holy
Name of Jesus’.
It seems Jesus represents a more human side to Godly encounter, but I prefer the sublimity
of the Father to the more tempered image of the Son. Still, both encounters are immensely
fruitful to the spiritual life.
V. On Identity
What really constitutes identity? How do we define ourselves? By interests, by profession, by
political or religious affiliation? It seems that the question of identity is very deep, and one
worth some philosophical consideration.
Environment arguably counts for more in identity than innate traits. For we are all dependent
on environmental factors, and due to neuroplasticity our habits and traits can be moulded by
the environment in which we live. I would say roughly 75% is environmental, and 25%
innate. We are who the world makes us, how the world shapes us. But we still have that
innate drive to unfold and develop the inner expression of our soul, which is in turn shaped
by our outer circumstances.
There is such a thing as genius, although perhaps it requires certain environmental
conditions in order to flourish. One must also factor in the question of luck, and its role in
producing outcomes. Our identity is chiefly the chemical reaction of inner drive with outer
conditions, for none of us are an unqualified Cartesian entity, absolute within ourselves; we
are all products of factors beyond our control.
It seems the simplest way of putting it is that identity is reciprocal and fluctuating; like the
Buddhist five Skhandas, or Hume’s bundle of perceptions, we are constantly in flux, and like
a candle-flame, we both are and are not the same in every passing moment. Molecularly, the
body replaces most of its cells over time. Yet I would argue that there is still an essential soul
– albeit one that is greatly shaped by environment.
Our identity is a mysterious property – yet it can never be described as completely self-
contained.
VI. The Existentialist
In today’s world, an increasingly frequent artistic or cultural expression is existentialism.
Faith has collapsed, more perhaps due to societal factors than scientific advancement.
There is a void, and man faces a meaningless universe. This is the world of the indie band,
of the middle aged male losing his grip on the everyday, of atheists questioning government
as part of a deeper malaise and uncertainty.
Spirituality is beautiful, and wherever we make the effort to seek out the world’s religious
traditions, or better yet become integrated in the practice of a religion, we will find rich
meaning and a deep significance. Existentialism is a kind of collapse of the spiritual
narrative, where one only encounters hostility or indifference – it is fundamentally a deficit of
love. The love of God sustains the believing Christian, and this is a powerful motive force.
The existentialist’s position, on the other hand, is fundamentally insecure.
Spirituality, even without religion, is an affirmation of eternal values – the existentialist has no
eternal values; everything is relative. ‘The peace that passeth understanding’ is the goal of
religion – the existentialist is in a state of permanent disquiet. Of course, existentialism can
be poetic: Camus’ The Outsider, or Radiohead’s ‘Paranoid Android’, are masterful in their
synthesis of an alienated condition. Existentialism is as old as the Ancients: although
modern factors of industrial society and the ‘univocal error’, whereby science displaces God
through a misunderstanding of ontology, have popularised the condition.
The poetry of existentialism masks its inner conceptual poverty – one must have a secure
spiritual foundation in universal values; otherwise one is left simply with the nihilism of high
tragedy: ‘This great world shall so wear out to naught’.
VII. On Chopin’s Waltzes
Currently listening to the waltzes of Chopin, performed by Alice Sara Ott. It is my opinion that
the waltzes are in fact the best of Chopin, especially the compellingly beautiful Waltz No. 9.
One could of course argue that the Prelude No. 4 offers one of the most emotively and
atmospherically resonant aspects of Chopin’s works, and the nocturnes, although I have
been somewhat overexposed, are undeniably so emotive and soul-stirring.
The waltzes are very different – often playful and light, yet with spectacular melodies. Yet the
Waltz No. 9 (Farewell) manages to be utterly transcendent, in its universal frame of
reference, comparable to the second movement of Beethoven’s seventh symphony. This
waltz, in its central theme, captures an inexpressible sadness and love, as well as some
form of human mystery – perhaps, for example, the enigma of human life in all its paradox. It
is affirmative, yet sounding a fatalistic note. It is, in short, truly remarkable.
The waltzes are, I would say, perhaps counter-intuitively, Chopin at his most metaphysical.
This is because, although often light and playful, characteristics we would not necessarily
associate with deep meaning, they succeed in encapsulating a brief, charming and
intangible mystery of life. Transience is very apparent, as is love, and a higher
consciousness of life’s unfolding splendour.
There are no really dark notes here; even in the minor key, it is simply thoughtful – the
waltzes mostly present life as affirmative and joyful, with a gentle reminder of mortality.
VIII. On Mortality
One must eventually come to terms with mortality. Perhaps, at 30, it isn’t uppermost in my
mind. But it helps us all to dwell on the temporary nature of our sojourn on Earth.
The fact is, not many generations hence, we shall all be dead. And how does that affect our
current lives? Mostly, we are too caught up in the cares of the world to consider deep
philosophical questions. But to think is to be, and we cannot go through life on a superficial
basis without deep regret. In order to make the most of this time, we must consider its
temporary nature. So, I will die. My memory will disappear from Earth. And life will go on its
metalled ways of time past and time future. Only, my past will be obliterated.
What will have been the purpose of my life? It is difficult to say at this point in time. It makes
me wish to make some lasting contribution, but of course most of mankind fade into oblivion.
What is the point in even existing? For several generations hence we are all dead and
forgotten, unless we are a Shakespeare. It all seems so futile.
Some turn to religion. For others, they take comfort in being completely absorbed by the
present. But thoughts of our eventual death should make us more humble, more
compassionate, and give us a definite sense of life mission. Only thus can we begin to make
sense of our own fated transience.
IX. On Creativity
Creativity must run through life like a rich seam of gold, or a centripetal force.
It is vital to have creativity – this is necessary for spiritual health. I live my life as though in a
dream: fiction blends with non-fiction, the true becomes redefined. ‘What is Truth?’ said
jesting Pilate, and indeed the only real truth I adhere to is God. As for my senses, they can
be easily deceived; my mind can be confused, misinformed or misfiring; only God is real, in
this twittering world.
Creativity is health – now the mind is generally in a state of flux. To pray and meditate is
helpful; it finds that essential still point, without which we live lives of confusion. And prayer is
essentially a creative act: the will soaring up to God. Scenarios are also helpful: by this I
mean creative episodes that do not rely so much on empirical reality, but embody a deeper
reality. It is useful to live out these scenarios from time to time.
What makes me confident that God is not simply a creative scenario? Well, this is the
essence of faith; indeed, it is crowned as a theological virtue. To have faith is to believe in at
least one abiding reality, more than what the senses can provide. So religion can play a
significant part in creative living, but there are other factors: chiefly, being prepared to tinge
reality with a fictive atmosphere, since reality is after all stranger than fiction.
To be creative, one needs to let go of quotidian established modes. Matter-of-fact is the
enemy of the soul.
X. Music - the Universal
I am listening to a Sibelius symphony for the first time. And it seems to me that music is
simply the universal primordial force of creative mankind. Music is the greatest art form –
because it is so directly emotional, and because it soars to incredible spiritual heights. True,
there is some rivalry with a timeless work of poetry, but I believe music just about edges it.
Music provides comfort in affliction, and inspiration in times of creativity. It is so diverse, that
its possibilities seem infinite. Music has many different qualities, often depending on the
genre and the period: spiritual, romantic, philosophical, lyrical, to name but a few. It speaks
to the soul in a language above the spoken word; it is ‘supralinguistic’.
Above all, music offers a universe that was not possible before. I remember my enchantment
when first becoming acquainted with the Beethoven symphonies, in 2006. Or the discovery
of Monteverdi’s Vespers of the Blessed Virgin. These are special moments. True, over-
familiar music can lose its power to affect, but a masterpiece like the Mass in B Minor can be
returned to throughout life for solace, mystery and spiritual direction.
Music is undoubtedly the most accessible art form and also I would say the most primordially
powerful.
XI. On the Iconic
I love the iconic. It is a beautifully concise symbol for a state of being. Some things in culture
or world events we can immediately label as ‘iconic’, being representative of something far
broader than their original field, and often in an elegant fashion.
Rather negatively, the image of Obama enjoying himself on the golf cart, just after the
beheading of James Foley, was iconic. It beautifully represented a detachment from real
world events, unwise in a president. It struck me as a poetic portrait.
I’ve just been listening to Marvin Gaye, ‘Wherever I Lay my Hat’ – a superb and evocative
song, just as iconic as Otis Reading’s ‘Sitting on the Dock of the Bay’ – both songs convey
the idea of a quaint and idyllic state of being for a certain strata of black America.
The iconic is as concise and poetic as an epigram, or indeed as deep and meditative as an
Orthodox icon. Everywhere it reveals so much about life. One doesn’t approach it with
judgement, but with an open, enquiring mind.
Some examples are so famous, such as Hitler’s Nuremburg rally speech, that over-familiarity
can lose some of the poetry. The most iconic things metaphysically are unfamiliar or
overlooked details. And it is these details, encountered in everyday life, that often strike us
with their depth and symbolic magnitude.
The iconic is an endless source of creative inspiration.
XII. The Purpose of Life
‘Man delights not me – no, nor woman neither’ Hamlet
When we consider life’s purpose, we can approach the question from a number of angles –
the spiritual, for example, or the scientific. One cannot find a better scientific definition than
Aristotle’s human flourishing. A more spiritual definition might be to become close to God –
to absorb the Godhead into one’s character and thought. But really, we are best seeing it in
a neutral manner, as this allows for the fairest definition.
So life’s purpose is ultimately to reach some level of fulfilment. What that fulfilment is
depends entirely on one’s core attitudes and values. For me, it is to delve deeply into the
finest of global culture, uncover its hidden meanings, and so find a path to the Divine. But
this is entirely subjective; I cannot expect others to agree. Perhaps extroverts have a more
socially orientated core purpose, for example.
It is easy to say that life is what you make of it, but we have to introduce some level of
objectivity, as there is a constant that unites humankind – if only the human condition, as
elegantly dissected by Shakespeare in his great tragedies. When we say that the most
common purpose is fulfilment, we may also imply a metaphysical element – things
conforming to their common disposition, arriving at their manifest destiny, and actualising
their energies. Therefore we could say that with sufficient meditation on the theme, anyone’s
manifest destiny could be discerned fairly readily – the hidden nature of things is open to the
deepest analysis. What is contemplation, but the eye of wisdom and truth?
So although the purpose of life differs between individual archetypes, one thing can be said
with certainty: we all strive to realise our manifest destinies, some blindly, and some more
knowingly. It is well worth stopping to consider the trajectory of our lives and what that
manifest destiny may be, rather than stumbling into an unknown fate. For there is not any
thing secret that shall not be made manifest; but beware of this knowledge arriving too late.
We owe it to ourselves to be consummately self-aware.
XIII. The Life of the Imagination
‘Denmark’s a prison.’
‘Then is the world one.’
The best life is the life of the imagination. Who could honestly put up with cold hard reality,
with its absurd limitations? All the artists were wealthier than princes, for they had found the
secret of the imagination.
We are blessed, as human beings, with such a beautiful mind. And this mind allows us to
live out our creative lives exactly as we wish, with no obvious limitations. Such a gift is
priceless. Reality is barren. You get some business magnates and political leaders who
stake their claim in reality, but theirs is no doubt a frustrating journey.
The great artists all knew that their abode in the imagination was much greater than anything
reality could offer, and many cultural treasures were born of this realisation. I like to follow in
the footsteps of these artists, however dimly. I see the future, and it is entirely of the mind.
My surroundings, my environment, even my life situation, are comparatively unimportant,
compared to the grandeur of the creative imagination.
The impoverished artist is better off than the wealthy potentate.
XIV. Religion vs. The Enlightenment
Currently reading Anthony Pagden’s brilliant work on the Enlightenment. And it leads me to a
grappling within my own mind (or indeed, soul) between the beauty of spirituality and the
beauty of the self-determinate individual. Need they be separate? I do not think so. For while
Romanticism reacted against cold rationality and sensibly argued for the role of feeling and
intuition, I think a cosmopolitan spirituality is possible, where one acknowledges both the
tremendous advantages wrought by Enlightenment thinking, and the supreme importance of
creative depth and intuition (modern psychology tells us as much).
You see, it is easy to set off the Roman Catholic Church against the Enlightenment. After all,
successive Popes blasted the loose immorality and rudderless nature implicit in
Enlightenment rejections of tradition. Indeed, Horkheimer and Adorno were to argue (in a
work I eagerly look forward to reading) that a chain of succession led from the Enlightenment
to Auschwitz, via the common man losing touch with his moral and spiritual roots, even
‘sneering’ at such things in favour of his new-found freedom and self-determination.
Such criticisms of the Enlightenment are harsh, but contain a vital kernel of truth. Of course,
the Enlightenment has also greatly shaped the Catholic Church, leading to a loosening of
tradition and a more cosmopolitan outlook. Ultimately, religion and the Enlightenment legacy
need not be antagonistic; perhaps one needs the other more than ever. In some of the Salafi
perversions of Islam we see the danger of a world view devoid of the Enlightenment. The
Catholic Church is thankfully now deeply tolerant, but has a chequered history of intolerance
throughout the Middle Ages and Renaissance.
On the other hand, Enlightenment thinking devoid of any spirituality, or even deep creative
intuition, is a frightening prospect because it presents man as essentially a rational machine,
which psychology can now discount as nonsense. As powerful as the Enlightenment was
(and still is) for human progress, in their firm rejection and mockery of religion we see a
tendency towards a soulless ratiocination of the mysteries of human nature. The truth may
be that the postmodern world of religion and secularism side by side allows a fruitful
combination of both traditions.
For me, I still grapple with a personal enigma. How far am I to take my spiritual inclinations,
and what shows the greatest dedication to the truth, the path of reason or the depth of a
spiritual contemplation? We know about the power of the intuitive mind, those split second
insights and formidable tacit knowledge, from cutting edge psychology. Might there be a
scientific explanation for the age-old discipline of intellection, a superior thinking to
ratiocination? Many of us (alas the modern state!) are too rushed to consider deep
contemplative truths. Yet that very quest for truth must be our ultimate aim.
Indeed, if I were to be convinced of the cultural superiority of exclusive secularism, I would
leave my faith, such is my commitment to the truth. But I know deep down that Catholicism
answers my need for a deep spiritual undercurrent to life. Without some level of spirituality,
can we even properly appreciate art and culture? Without even a trace of Platonism?
Abandon the spiritual ideal and one falls into the banal and amoral; abandon the rational
ideal and one risks fundamentalism.
XV. A Reappraisal of Morals
I am a Platonic Epicurean. Allow me to explain my appraisal.
Morals are often bandied about like pawns in a chess game. The truth is that the name of
morality is abused in the modern world, as perhaps it always has been. Some thinkers, like
Nietzsche, have proposed that morality is weakness. This, although from a captivating
thinker, clearly leads to a very unpleasant society. Others, like La Mettrie, consider that
morality is pleasure. Epicurus after all thought that the individual retired from society, living
in contemplation and following his intellect in quiet solitude was the highest pleasure, and
thus he somewhat negated traditional morality, as well as the concept of duty.
Christianity came along and borrowed from ancient systems, especially Stoic, Platonic and
Peripatetic ideas of what constitutes morality. The Stoic is of course suffused with the idea of
duty, the Platonist with some sort of individual quest for the Good as a metaphysical
absolute, and the Peripatetic with his golden mean. I myself am part Epicurean, part
Platonist, which may seem a curious mix, but there really is no contradiction.
Throughout the Renaissance, Epicures were rather foolishly equated with gluttons or men
consumed by lust, which says more about the standards of the time. Clearly men did not
think mental activities were the highest pleasure. Yet this can easily be squared with the
Platonic quest for the Good. Epicureanism is decent and noble, Stoicism is a little harsh, and
Peripatetism produces mediocrities. Meanwhile Platonism is the impetus behind Christian
mysticism.
Morals should be viewed always with regard to their intellectual history. Never let an
adversary in popular parlance declare that you take an ‘immoral path’, without closely
examining exactly what they mean and the hidden assumptions. A Platonic Epicurean is
unlikely to get on with a Stoic.
XVI. Thoughts on Man
‘This hour a slave, the next a deity’ Alexander Pope
‘I have known multitudes of those who would have been monks in the age of monkery, who
in this deistical age are deists’ William Blake
Man is an exceedingly complex creature, commensurate with our neurological
sophistication. Our situation, or point in time and space, is perhaps less important than our
inner disposition – given that an age has its own characteristics and biases. Broadly
speaking, one can be a king in beggarly conditions, or a mental prisoner with a kingly title.
Why did Milton have the arch-antagonist say ‘the mind is its own place and in itself, can
make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven’? Surely as the greatest statement of irony, for his
ultimate realisation is that ‘which way I fly is hell; myself am hell’. Environment generally
reflects our metaphysical disposition, in the broadest sense – a joyous saint in poverty, or a
scholar in moderate surroundings; or indeed, a materialist distracted by possessions.
Man varies considerably, yet we must count this variation as a blessing – as with Chaucer’s
wonderful group of pilgrims, which Blake described as ‘the characters which compose all
ages and nations’. Man can be considered as a limited number of fixed archetypes, yet
within those archetypes are infinitesimal variation. Everyone is, after all, a unique individual,
never to be exactly replicated, striving in his little world of man against the elements.
Ultimately, man is a product of his inner disposition who is nevertheless shaped by his time.
He is uniquely placed to interpret his own time through the lens of his dominant character
and personality, and this gives him a somewhat unique perspective throughout the ages. We
should listen to the voices of the past – and help mould the voices of the future.
Top Related