Plans!

I expect my life will be getting pretty busy here in the next few weeks. I'm a homeschooled sophomore this year. It took me half a lifetime to figure out the whole grade system, but now I've got it down. I think.

(Remember when you were little and you'd meet one of your mom's friends in the grocery store who wanted to know what grade you're in?)

Yeah. Those kind of grades. Not the "A,B,C" business. I got my first report ever last year when I started going to a private Christian resource center for a class. (And yes, I did gets A's that year. They were generous, and I was paranoid about becoming a flunking delinquent with no knowledge of algorithms. Those two factors combined essentially meant that things turned out OK for me.)

The "school" is located in a church. The bands and choirs practice in the sanctuary, the math, science, and biology classes meet upstairs in different "classrooms." And the P.E. students? Well the P.E. students go on what you might call forced marches. (Runs, I should say.)

I guess you could call it a private school. But it's more like a place where various homeschooling families in my city (there aren't many of us) pick and choose what classes we want to attend. Some people do everything- I just took math last year. It was quite the experience, and though I had some really bad days, I'd go back in a heartbeat. (Actually I am. Next Wednesday, in fact.)

Not only will I be doing math, chances are I'll be in the gospel choir, too. (I found out about this last week.)

I love Southern Gospel. We listen to it somewhat frequently at home, and I enjoy listening to the rich, harmonizing voices.

I have yet to figure out how ten white Northwestern homeschoolers will ever be able to copy authentic Southern gospel and soul music- but I'll keep you updated on our progress. (Not that I will ever be able to sound like Mahalia Jackson. No way. Sorry. Not even if I sing baroque opera songs so many times I yell the words in my sleep.)

My fourteen-year-old brother will be taking I few other lit/current events classes that I won't need to attend, thanks to my Great Books tutorial service that makes me read sordid history books that I actually end up liking. I mean that with all my heart. (Actually more like 85% percent of my heart. Verdict's still out on Herodotus and Tacitus;)

I feel so blessed to be able to be part of this online class. No matter how many times I balked at reading assignments, or complained about how gory CERTAIN historians were, it was always a pleasure to log into class at 8:00 AM every Monday, hear about people's week, discuss dead folks, and altogether have a profitable morning.

This year we'll be studying Romans instead of Greeks. (And I get to read the City Of God! Someone please keep me from saying "woot!")

Three reasons why I'm looking forward to reading a book written by an early Church Father:

1. First off- how could you not want to read The City Of God? 

2. Hopefully Augustine won't describe as many homicides and suicides as Tacitus did in his Annals Of Imperial Rome. (And I thought the French Revolution was bad....)

3. It's large. Large is good. Mostly good.

I'm going to tell you my schedule, though you might find it boring. 

-On Mondays I'll attend my nearly-2 1/2 hour GB class, then dash off to math. Twelve o'clock is lunch break, followed by choir practice. Currently I cannot tell you anything about what that will be like.

-Tuesdays I have voice lessons. My teacher's annual winter recital this year will be full of acting and singing students dressed in various articles of period clothing. It will probably look like some bizarre musical seance- Hamlet will be hallucinating, Salieri shouting. I'll be a character from the early 1900's singing a song from My Fair Lady. (If anyone knows anything about hats from that period I'd love any information.) Anyway, I have to start practicing. In addition to the aforementioned song, I'll need to memorize some Italian for another piece I'll be performing. It sounds very glamorous and scholarly indeed, but it's not. You just sort of go to a lesson one day and discover that you remember what kind of strange sounds to make. As much as I wish I knew Italian- I honestly don't want to know the meaning of the words I'm singing. I know it sounds bad, but as long as I stay away from The Boot- I'm basically singing gibberish. Turns out that the words to the Italian song I'm working on now are actually quite decent! 

-Wednesday I'll be attending my last math class for the week- as well as another choir practice. 

-Until Saturday It'll just be more class homework, and science study.

Simple, eh?

Maybe, maybe not.

I'll keep you updated on the choir. And the costume. And hopefully everything else that might interest you.

So what are you all doing this fall? I'd love to hear.

Ciao. (I'm almost certain that means go eat something;)

Books, Cookies, And Lucy

To be honest- I have a hard time during the summer staying focused and inspired to do things. After a spring full of essays, theater rehearsals, script-writing, piano recitals and syllabus- everything seemed blank. Which is not to say that I'm always diligent when projects abound- I can and do waste time. (Twitter? Facebook?) But I am the type that either works ridiculously hard on a task- or doesn't do anything about it all. Which is bad, or good- depending on how you see it. I'm thinking it's bad.

My companion for the next two months is Tacitus' Annals of Imperial Rome, assigned to all of Alexandria Tutorial's students who will be entering Great Books II next year. (Don't Roman numerals look more scholarly?)

Anyway, it hasn't proved to be as gory as Herodotus- yet. I've actually never met a book like this that didn't contain some enjoyable parts, though I always do drag my feet somewhat at the beginnings. At any rate, mutinies are always fascinating.

There are good speeches in this book, too. Oh yes. Kind of makes me want to read one out loud, but I'd hate to repeat the Tom-Sawyer-Reads-Patrick-Henry's-Give-Me-Liberty-Speech incident.

"For heaven forbid that the distinction and glory of having helped Rome and suppressed the peoples of Germany, should go the Belgae- Gauls and foreigners- for all their offers. Divine Augustus, I call upon your spirit now in heaven! Nero Drusus my father, I invoke your image that is in our memories!  Come to these soldiers of yours (into whose hearts shame and pride are making their way); wash clean this stain! Direct these revolutionary passions against enemy lives instead....Will you give the senate back its delegates, be obedient to the emperor again- and return me my wife and son? Then shake of the contagion. Single out the culprits! That will show you are sorry, and prove you are loyal...."

Oh, ahem, sorry. Just got a little carried away there. And now about the past few days:

---The performance of Handel's Messiah I went to see on Sunday was amazing. Especially "Surely He Has Borne Our Griefs."

---Meg from Our Spare Oom had a giveaway recently, and as I was the only one who entered it- I won! I thought it was really sweet and thoughtful of her to give away a copy of C.S. Lewis' The Horse And His Boy. (And going to all the trouble of shipping it halfway across the world, I might add).

This happens to be my favorite book in the Narnia series. Thanks Meg! 

Thursday night my family had another track meet. I decided to stay home and make cookies- Elspeth and Autumn came over. It was more fun than running in circles.

Behold, the Ravioli Cookies- that really do not look like ravioli at all:

And no, my family does not survive on a diet of shortbread (Though some people would gladly accept such a proposal).

I've just been baking a lot this July- it's a cookie/scone/biscotti/pie month for some reason.

I shoot many of my food pictures outside- where the lighting is better. We took these cookies outside forgetting about Lucy who was inside helping herself to the second plate. We dragged her outside so we could resume our photo shoot- and came up with this priceless image.

It's the stuff dogs dream about. 

Hope you all have a lovely weekend!

Natalie

P.S. My "readers widget" is up now on my sidebar, thanks to Gabrielle's suggestion. You all can follow me now. Or not;)

Optimism

If I hadn't heard of Despair, Inc. I wouldn't have thought of this. I love that site, although I don't think I'll link to it because of at least one rather inappropriate picture. Anyway, in honor of the fact that my Great Books class just ended, I created this:

Essay on the Iliad

    “He is so plaguy proud,” Odysseus says of Achilleus, in the Shakespearean play Troilus and Cressida, “that the death-tokens of it cry 'No recovery.’” The subject of pride has been a part of many books, and in some, a main theme. In The Iliad, we see a fascinating study of that sin which, as Claudianus asserted, “Sullies the noblest character.”

     The consequence of pride is the principal theme in The Iliad.

     As a first example, the pride of the main character, Achilleus, demonstrates the far reaching effects of pride, in causing the death of many Achaian men. Secondly, prideful Agamemnon’s arrogance helps bring about a bitter rift in the Greek army, which leads to a beating from the Trojans. Lastly, and in a more broad sense, the theme of pride is reflected in all the Greek and Trojan warriors, whose ultimate goal is glory for themselves, their country, and their children who come after them.

    When Agamemnon is forced to return his concubine Chryseis back to her father, and is thus humiliated in front of the whole Greek army, he froths with rage, demanding that Achilleus give up his own spoil of war, a girl named Briseis. Agamemnon cannot tolerate the thought of any of his great warriors smugly looking on, while one of his own possessions is forcibly taken. When Achilleus threatens to run away, Agamemnon nonchalantly replies, “Run away, by all means if your heart drives you. I will not entreat you to stay here for my sake. There are others with me who will do me honor, and above all, Zeus.” Agamemnon is so arrogant that he unwisely dismisses one of his most powerful fighters. Angry at Achilleus, he assumes that he can still conquer the flinty Trojans without the help of Achilleus and his tantrums. Agamemnon’s decision to treat Achilleus unjustly was a poor act of leadership, and his pride causes grave consequences to the Achaian army.

       As a corollary of Achilleus’ pride, the Greeks suffer a severe battering in the hands of Hektor and his men. In choosing to refrain from fighting after Agamemnon unjustly stole his concubine Briseis,  Achilleus inconsiderately puts all of his fellow warriors in danger. He is not sorrowing over the mistreatment of Briseis; rather mourning over his own crushed pride. In his clouded vision, the only way he can hope to win back his pride is to “teach them a lesson,” like a pugnacious school-yard bully. There the analogy stops, for Achilleus chooses to sit on the sidelines instead of biting or pulling hair. 

      “Pride is seldom delicate; it will please itself with very mean advantages,” Samuel Johnson once commented, an observation that seems to describe Achilleus refusing to give aid to his fellow warriors. Achilleus is successful in making the king appreciate his worth, but his pride helps bring about the death of his dear friend Patroklos, and countless other men besides. He is a living example of a proud man “who eats up himself,” as Shakespeare once remarked. Not only is Achilleus eaten up by his own sin, his friends are experiencing the pain of being eaten by some remarkably large and ferocious dogs, namely, the Trojans.

      

    In a broader sense, the pride of  all the Greek and Trojan soldiers can be seen throughout the book. 

     “It would be ignoble of me to shrink back in the fighting,” Diomedes stoically responds to a fellow soldier trying to persuade him to leave the forefront of battle. Trojan Hektor tells his wife that he cannot stand the thought of her “widowed of such a man who could not fight off the day of your slavery.” His pride is not necessarily that of bloated arrogance; rather a deep and rather “humble” pride, ready to fight for his wife, son, and country- the most important things in his life. In contrast to Hektor’s noble pride, Achilleus, still sitting in camp, selfishly bids Patroklos to “Win for me great honor and glory.” The ultimate goal of all Greek and Trojan fighters, was to achieve the elusive kleos, and time, a magnificent dream deeply entrenched in the pride of the warrior. Any soldier in the Iliad could have spoken the words uttered by Napoleon many years later- “Death is nothing, but to live defeated and inglorious is to die daily.” 

    It may seem that The Iliad is simply a gory description of war- the main theme being the pursuit of glory. The quest for military and social glory, however, always floats on top of pride- the driving force to achieve fame, riches, and honor. Thus the paramount theme of the Iliad is more profound than just a search for distiction. The Iliad is rather a story of how pride drives men to foolish actions and destruction, rather than a mere description of how desperate they were to attain majestic greatness.

    The best lessons to be learned from The Iliad are the far-reaching repercussions of prideful and arrogant actions. Homer masterfully illustrates this by showing the reader the conduct and exploits of both armies featured in The Iliad, especially the Achaians. Through the acts of brazen Achilleus, imperious Agamemnon, and Trojans such as Hektor and Paris, a useful lesson in human nature can be learned- that should not, and will not be forgotten. Many soldiers are are the same type of men David described in Psalm 73:6-“Pride compasseth them about as a chain; violence covereth them as a garment.”

   Ultimately, The Iliad is simply an illustration of Proverbs 16:18- “Pride goeth before destruction, and a haughty spirit before a fall.”

(Thanks to Wikipedia and Crystal Links for the pictures.)

War and Greece

       

Note: Here is a paragraph I wrote recently for my Great Books tutorial. It isn't my personal favorite, but it will do because it's not too specific...

     In the Iliad, while Homer only offers us exiguous physical descriptions of the characters, he generously furnishes us with a rather detailed report of every death that happens on the battlefield. In book five, the gods scurry back and forth, choosing sides in the war, fighting mortals, and generally adding to the confusion. The mortals themselves- god favored or otherwise- are mercilessly hacking down their enemies, a process only hindered by divine intervention for the sake of a favored warrior. Pandemonium ensues, as would be expected in war involving the chaotic paring of men and suspiciously human-like deities.

     The most mentioned character in book five is Diomedes, son of Tyndeus. After being wounded by a Trojan, he prays to Athene who gives him the strength to continue fighting. Like a bloodthirsty Lion, Diomedes charges into the fighting, throwing rocks and spears at the Trojans. He whacks down eight men in the next three paragraphs, with the indispensable assistance of “grey-eyed” Athene.

     The entirety of book five is an engrossing depiction of the battle, broken up only by some amusing family scenes on mount Olympus. After Ares, the belligerently savage war-god fighting for the Trojans, is wounded in part by his sister Athene, helper of the Greeks, he goes to his father Zeus and complains of this “Maniac daughter,” a veritable “Child of perdition,” in Ares’ eyes. Zeus, apparently not charmed by his son’s livid speech, commands him “Not to sit beside me and whine, you double faced liar.”


     Meanwhile the war continues, and would seem to inspire a rather dirgeful mood in the reader, when all the horrific deaths are remembered- were it not for the bloody turmoil and utter sense of mayhem that is taking place on Trojan ground. This is not the next morning, with an ethereal mist floating over the dead bodies and the faint sound of sad but victorious music playing- this is the middle of a battle where a profusion of actions happen at once.
     

     It is sometimes difficult to remember how violent archaic battles were, but Homer helps the problem by painting his story in strokes of reality- though that reality is muddied by the saga of the false gods, and their supposed intervention with human affairs.