After a week of hard rains, flash floods, flood warnings, and continual drizzle, this morning presents a different prospect.
Winter is coming. The sky is metal gray. The temperature has moved beyond refreshing into the region of downright cold. The ground no longer looks sodden because it is beginning to look solid.
A perfect day for some Robert Frost. I recently picked up a copy of Robert Frost Versed in Country Things, poems selected by Edward Connery Latham and illustrated with wonderfully complementary photographs by B.A. King. There are only twenty poems from the immense trove of Frost's work and include none of his best known poems. But the ones that are here are good and as mentioned, the combination of these particular poems with the beautiful photographs of B.A. King make for an excellent wintry morning reading.
Saturday, October 17, 2009
Sunday, October 11, 2009
Child! do not throw this book about
From the dedication of Hillaire Belloc's The Bad Child's Book of Beasts.
Child! do not throw this book about;
Refrain from the unholy pleasure
Of cutting all the pictures out!
Preserve it as your chiefest treasure.
Child, have you never heard it said
That you are heir to all the ages?
Why, then, your hands were never made
To tear these beautiful thick pages!
Your little hands were made to take
The better things and leave the worse ones.
They also may be used to shake
The Massive Paws of Elder Persons.
And when your prayers complete the day,
Darling, your little tiny hands
Were also made, I think, to pray
For men that lose their fairylands.
Saturday, October 10, 2009
Read More, Stay Sentient Longer
From the Nov/Dec 2009 edition of BBC Knowledge magazine.
We Can Work It Out
A regular mental workout can delay the rapid decline in memory caused by dementia. In a study published in the journal Neurology, nearly 500 people aged 75-85 were tracked for several years. Those who took part in 11 brain-engaging activities per week, like reading and doing crossword puzzles, delayed a rapid decline in their memory by an average of 1.29 years compared to those who engaged in only four. The results were still valid even when the researchers factored in the education level of the study's participants.
Thursday, October 8, 2009
The Preacher
This past weekend, we attended our annual church retreat in the North Carolina mountains. It is a wonderful opportunity to gather with all the other members of the congregation in a social setting and reknit some of those bonds that soften away when you attend different services, are on different committees, are involved in different missions. The mountains are usually gorgeous but especially this time of the year with cold nights, crisp mornings and warm afternoons. The trees usually are just beginning to turn and of course there is always apple picking to be done.
We had a bunch of kids with us this time in addition to our own and so we took both cars up. Sunday afternoon, we headed back to Atlanta with my eldest, Price, in the car with me. As I usually do on long drives, I cast around on the radio dial down in the 88 - 91.0 range to try and find an NPR station, hoping for news or Car Talk or Garrison Keillor. I don't know if it is true country wide but in the Southeast and Midwest, that is where you are usually able to find NPR. Making interesting neighbors, though, 88 - 91.0 also seems to be where you usually find the religious/pentacostal type broadcasts as well.
Being a Sunday in the mountains, we had plenty of choices of preachers and could find no NPR. Flipping through each station, listening for a minute or two and then moving on, we kept finding yet one more person berating, declaring and condemning. Not quite my preferred listening on a long drive.
Then, of a sudden, we came across such a distinct presentation that we were immediately gripped. I never caught the preacher's name and the broadcasting seemed to be in the hands of enthusiastic but inexperienced hands; the ends of a segment would be cut short, new sections opened without introduction etc.
What was so gripping was this preacher's distinctive speech. Real mountain vernacular. Very staccato delivery. Some of the rote cliches and standard speechifying but really much more genuine than that. It was of a type but so distinct. While some of his points I might disagree with, in the main we were in synch but it was his speech patterns and mode of delivery that really captivated me.
Such rich language and expression as well. We listened until he was, regrettably cut off as they transitioned to another, more mundane preacher. Only towards the end did I think to whip out my pocket commonplace and have Price note down a couple of the preacher's phrases. The one that especially caught my attention and made me laugh was his characterization of some person's thinking and faulty conclusions:
We had a bunch of kids with us this time in addition to our own and so we took both cars up. Sunday afternoon, we headed back to Atlanta with my eldest, Price, in the car with me. As I usually do on long drives, I cast around on the radio dial down in the 88 - 91.0 range to try and find an NPR station, hoping for news or Car Talk or Garrison Keillor. I don't know if it is true country wide but in the Southeast and Midwest, that is where you are usually able to find NPR. Making interesting neighbors, though, 88 - 91.0 also seems to be where you usually find the religious/pentacostal type broadcasts as well.
Being a Sunday in the mountains, we had plenty of choices of preachers and could find no NPR. Flipping through each station, listening for a minute or two and then moving on, we kept finding yet one more person berating, declaring and condemning. Not quite my preferred listening on a long drive.
Then, of a sudden, we came across such a distinct presentation that we were immediately gripped. I never caught the preacher's name and the broadcasting seemed to be in the hands of enthusiastic but inexperienced hands; the ends of a segment would be cut short, new sections opened without introduction etc.
What was so gripping was this preacher's distinctive speech. Real mountain vernacular. Very staccato delivery. Some of the rote cliches and standard speechifying but really much more genuine than that. It was of a type but so distinct. While some of his points I might disagree with, in the main we were in synch but it was his speech patterns and mode of delivery that really captivated me.
Such rich language and expression as well. We listened until he was, regrettably cut off as they transitioned to another, more mundane preacher. Only towards the end did I think to whip out my pocket commonplace and have Price note down a couple of the preacher's phrases. The one that especially caught my attention and made me laugh was his characterization of some person's thinking and faulty conclusions:
Your brain done took a vacation and left yo' head.
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
How Nonsense Sharpens the Intellect
An article in the New York Times, How Nonsense Sharpens the Intellect, October 6, 2009, by Benedict Carey.
The rub of the article is the reporting of some recent studies suggesting that when the brain is stimulated by nonsensical information, it responds by heightening its efforts, towards which it is already predisposed, to find patterns in the information. The studies indicate that the brain, so stimulated, becomes more effective in finding patterns which it otherwise would overlook. At the same time, there is evidence to suggest that it also becomes more prone to false positives, seeing patterns where there are none.
Interesting studies in their own right but I wonder what the connection might be with traditions in children's literature. Does our early exposure of children to Mother Goose poems and rhymes (many of which are reasonably incomprehensible) and poets such as Edward Lear, prime children's brains to better find patterns in language and reading than they might otherwise? Do Mother Goose and Lear accelerate children's brain development or do they simply make them more attentive to patterns and therefore accomplish more earlier? And what about riddles? Does an early engagement with riddles (riddles being a frequent component of folktales and a tradition in its own right), better prime the brain for comprehending more subtle and nuanced stories?
Which other linguistic/cultural traditions include early exposure to the type of paradoxes and nonsense of Mother Goose and Lear so prevalent in the anglo-sphere? Are there notable differences in academic accomplishment (both static and innovative) between those linguistic cultures with early exposure to nonsense and those that do not have such exposure?
Further: how might this relate to jokes, puns, and other forms of humor which depend on misdirecting the brain in one direction while delivering the punchline from an entirely different angle, i.e. forcing it to adjust from one expected pattern to an unanticipated pattern?
There are many ways to dice up reading materials but one way might be to identify three categories of reading 1) that which tells us what we wish to know (instruction manuals and writing of that ilk), 2) that which affirms what we already know (comfort reading), and 3) that which instructs or informs us indirectly and by unexpected example (literature and higher functioning non-fiction). This third category is effectively an extension of the brain seeking to find patterns which it otherwise might have overlooked and to make sense of a pattern of information or events which otherwise seems to have no pattern. Is there a quotient of nonsensical reading which primes us for then making sense of more elaborate writing. Do we get more from other works by reading the likes of Kafka and Whitman first?
I wonder.
The rub of the article is the reporting of some recent studies suggesting that when the brain is stimulated by nonsensical information, it responds by heightening its efforts, towards which it is already predisposed, to find patterns in the information. The studies indicate that the brain, so stimulated, becomes more effective in finding patterns which it otherwise would overlook. At the same time, there is evidence to suggest that it also becomes more prone to false positives, seeing patterns where there are none.
Interesting studies in their own right but I wonder what the connection might be with traditions in children's literature. Does our early exposure of children to Mother Goose poems and rhymes (many of which are reasonably incomprehensible) and poets such as Edward Lear, prime children's brains to better find patterns in language and reading than they might otherwise? Do Mother Goose and Lear accelerate children's brain development or do they simply make them more attentive to patterns and therefore accomplish more earlier? And what about riddles? Does an early engagement with riddles (riddles being a frequent component of folktales and a tradition in its own right), better prime the brain for comprehending more subtle and nuanced stories?
Which other linguistic/cultural traditions include early exposure to the type of paradoxes and nonsense of Mother Goose and Lear so prevalent in the anglo-sphere? Are there notable differences in academic accomplishment (both static and innovative) between those linguistic cultures with early exposure to nonsense and those that do not have such exposure?
Further: how might this relate to jokes, puns, and other forms of humor which depend on misdirecting the brain in one direction while delivering the punchline from an entirely different angle, i.e. forcing it to adjust from one expected pattern to an unanticipated pattern?
There are many ways to dice up reading materials but one way might be to identify three categories of reading 1) that which tells us what we wish to know (instruction manuals and writing of that ilk), 2) that which affirms what we already know (comfort reading), and 3) that which instructs or informs us indirectly and by unexpected example (literature and higher functioning non-fiction). This third category is effectively an extension of the brain seeking to find patterns which it otherwise might have overlooked and to make sense of a pattern of information or events which otherwise seems to have no pattern. Is there a quotient of nonsensical reading which primes us for then making sense of more elaborate writing. Do we get more from other works by reading the likes of Kafka and Whitman first?
I wonder.
Friday, October 2, 2009
Interesting juxtaposition
One of my bibliographical sins is that of reading many books at the same time. I know there are drawbacks to this but it is a habit I have had from early years and betrays a bookish gluttony.
One of the benefits of this habit though is that it sometimes allows you to make connections you might not otherwise recongnize. I am currently reading, among others, Richard Dana's Two Years Before the Mast as well as Stephen Taylor's Caliban's Shore. In Dana's account, from the 1830's, they are on their return journey from trading on the California coast. They are approaching the area of Cape Horn and he mentions their longitudinal and latitudinal position with precision in the context of anticipating the weather they will encounter. The sailor's concern is clear in the text but it is specific - they fear the storms and the cold of the Horn but they know precisely where they are.
In contrast, aboard the Grosvenor, an East Indiaman returning in 1781 from India to Britain via South Africa's Cape of Good Hope, they have, owing to the lateness of the sailing season, been sailing across the remote stretches of the Indian Ocean without sight of land or ship for six weeks.
Mariners have long known how to measure their latitude (how far north or south they are from the Equator). However, there was no easy or obvious method for determining longitude (how far east or west one was). It was only in the 1750's and 1760's when John Harrison in Britain proposed the use of chronometers and began developing instruments for that purpose. However, in 1781, chronometers were still very expensive, fallible, and rare. Most ships, including the Grosvenor, did not carry chronometers and therefore were unable to determine their longitude other than through dead reckoning which often turned out to be grossly and catastrophically inaccurate.
Such proved the case with the Grosvenor. They have been sailing six weeks across the Indian Ocean, know they are approaching Africa but can't be certain if it is 2, 20, or 200 miles away.
It is interesting to read the two texts in near proximity and see how forty years and one critical technology can make a world of difference. The concern and fear in the Grosvenor are palpable whereas Dana betrays only a sailorly concern about the weather.
One of the benefits of this habit though is that it sometimes allows you to make connections you might not otherwise recongnize. I am currently reading, among others, Richard Dana's Two Years Before the Mast as well as Stephen Taylor's Caliban's Shore. In Dana's account, from the 1830's, they are on their return journey from trading on the California coast. They are approaching the area of Cape Horn and he mentions their longitudinal and latitudinal position with precision in the context of anticipating the weather they will encounter. The sailor's concern is clear in the text but it is specific - they fear the storms and the cold of the Horn but they know precisely where they are.
In contrast, aboard the Grosvenor, an East Indiaman returning in 1781 from India to Britain via South Africa's Cape of Good Hope, they have, owing to the lateness of the sailing season, been sailing across the remote stretches of the Indian Ocean without sight of land or ship for six weeks.
Mariners have long known how to measure their latitude (how far north or south they are from the Equator). However, there was no easy or obvious method for determining longitude (how far east or west one was). It was only in the 1750's and 1760's when John Harrison in Britain proposed the use of chronometers and began developing instruments for that purpose. However, in 1781, chronometers were still very expensive, fallible, and rare. Most ships, including the Grosvenor, did not carry chronometers and therefore were unable to determine their longitude other than through dead reckoning which often turned out to be grossly and catastrophically inaccurate.
Such proved the case with the Grosvenor. They have been sailing six weeks across the Indian Ocean, know they are approaching Africa but can't be certain if it is 2, 20, or 200 miles away.
It is interesting to read the two texts in near proximity and see how forty years and one critical technology can make a world of difference. The concern and fear in the Grosvenor are palpable whereas Dana betrays only a sailorly concern about the weather.
Thursday, October 1, 2009
How we know a dog is a dog . . .
An interesting article from the September 23, 2009 edition of Psychology and Sociology, titled How we know a dog is a dog: Concept acquisition in the human brain. Although in different language, it supports the comment in my post, The Brain is an Engineering System. The primary point is that routine reading is likely to build up a child's capacity to comprehend and anticipate situations by laying down patterns of reality gleaned from books.
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