In an issue of the Union Seminary Magazine in 1891 is reproduced a sermon given by the Rev. H.C. Alexander. in which the good reverend remidns his listeners that "Men pore over the monuments of Egypt and Nineveh, and sometimes vainly attempt to decipher their hieroglyphic inscriptions."
Such is one of the hard-to-love faces of religious fervor. It tells us what mysteries we can not solve, what efforts at discovery are "vain." The sermonizer was confident in 1891 that no one would ever decipher the hieroglyphs on the Egyptian tombs. Vanity, vanity, all is vanity!
Hogwash.
Indeed, the hieroglyphs on the Rosetta stone had been deciphered by scholars working in the French language by the early 1840s, and English-language translations of their work had appeared a decade later. Alexander was by the most generous reading forty years behind the times in thinking that such efforts are "vain."
Calling the efforts of others vanity may itself be the cheapest form of vanity.
Showing posts with label French history. Show all posts
Showing posts with label French history. Show all posts
08 March 2012
13 January 2011
J'Accuse
On this day in 1898, Emile Zola's immortal editorial "J'Accuse" saw print.
You can find the letter in full, and in English, starting at page 43 of this book.
I'll just quote one nicely-turned passage here.
"Of course, there is the War Minister, General Mercier, whose intelligence seems to be on a mediocre level; and of course there is the Chief of the General Staff, General Gonse, whose conscience managed to make room for a good many things. But to begin with, there was really only Major du Paty de Clam. He led those men by the nose. He hypnotized them."
Is the word "intelligence" as ambiguous in French as it is in English here? Zola clearly means that the General's personal cognitive gifts were not great. He could have meant, though, (at least if he had been writing in English) that the General was not being well-served by the spies in his employ. To my reading, anyway, the possibility of the more 'innocent' meaning adds extra spice to the actual meaning.
I'm reminded, with the way my mind has of combining the sublime with the ridiculous, of a scene in Hogan's Heroes. General Burkhalter demands to know whether Colonel Klink is spying on him.
Klink: I assure you, General, I have nothing to do with intelligence.
General: Zat is obvious, Klink.
You can find the letter in full, and in English, starting at page 43 of this book.
I'll just quote one nicely-turned passage here.
"Of course, there is the War Minister, General Mercier, whose intelligence seems to be on a mediocre level; and of course there is the Chief of the General Staff, General Gonse, whose conscience managed to make room for a good many things. But to begin with, there was really only Major du Paty de Clam. He led those men by the nose. He hypnotized them."
Is the word "intelligence" as ambiguous in French as it is in English here? Zola clearly means that the General's personal cognitive gifts were not great. He could have meant, though, (at least if he had been writing in English) that the General was not being well-served by the spies in his employ. To my reading, anyway, the possibility of the more 'innocent' meaning adds extra spice to the actual meaning.
I'm reminded, with the way my mind has of combining the sublime with the ridiculous, of a scene in Hogan's Heroes. General Burkhalter demands to know whether Colonel Klink is spying on him.
Klink: I assure you, General, I have nothing to do with intelligence.
General: Zat is obvious, Klink.
25 April 2010
New Voltaire biography
Ian Davidson has written a biography of Voltaire, published by Profile.
The desire to be candid(e) requires me to report that none of the reviews of this book that I have thus far encountered leave me wanting to to buy or read the thing. Here are three examples:
Susan Elkin, in The Independent, makes it seem as if the book is about celebrity gossip -- with whom was Voltaire sleeping when.
Andrew Hussey, in the Financial Times, says that Ian Davidson "makes the point that much of Voltaire's massive literary output is now out-of-date when it is not simply tedious."
Sam Leith, in The Spectator, tells me that Davidson makes Voltaire seem like "a starlet perpetually leaving sex tapes out where the builders can find them."
I wish Davidson good luck with this book, but I personally will sit this one out.
The desire to be candid(e) requires me to report that none of the reviews of this book that I have thus far encountered leave me wanting to to buy or read the thing. Here are three examples:
Susan Elkin, in The Independent, makes it seem as if the book is about celebrity gossip -- with whom was Voltaire sleeping when.
Andrew Hussey, in the Financial Times, says that Ian Davidson "makes the point that much of Voltaire's massive literary output is now out-of-date when it is not simply tedious."
Sam Leith, in The Spectator, tells me that Davidson makes Voltaire seem like "a starlet perpetually leaving sex tapes out where the builders can find them."
I wish Davidson good luck with this book, but I personally will sit this one out.
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