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  • In Shakespeare's The Tempest, Prospero, Duke of Milan, is ousted by his brother and exiled to an island. With the help of a friend, Prospero manages to take with him his beloved library.

    Prospero, like his creator, lived in a time when boundaries between disciplines were not as rigid as they are today. Prospero's books would have dealt with the cosmos—spiritual and material, inner and outer—as a whole.

    In this blog, I try to do the same. I'm not Prospero, just a student rummaging through his library and writing in the margins. Prospero's Books is a blog about seeing the world as a whole, by looking at

    • signs, especially the relationships between signifiers and what they signify
    • stories, especially big-picture stories, such as myths and the works of Dante, Shakespeare, and Joyce
    • systems, especially complex, nonlinear systems
    • spirit, especially as understood by the Christian and Western esoteric traditions

    Welcome! Please join the conversation.

    —Kenneth W. Davis

    (Note: Although I admire Peter Greenaway's film Prospero's Books, this blog is not directly about that film. )

    Who, and Some of What, I Am

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30 August 2006

One hundred generations

Greek_alphabet_from_wikipedia As a writer and (especially) as a writing teacher, I am fascinated by the way Harold J. Morowitz expresses how recent an invention writing is:

Formal pictographic writing probably goes back over 5,000 years, to be followed by syllabic writing in the Fertile Crescent. After the development of writing, there was constant intercultural exchange among the various societies. A fully alphabetic writing seems to have developed in Greece about 2,800 years ago, and the system has become almost universal. This is only 100 generations into the past (Emergence of Everything, 168, emphasis mine).

After chapters featuring numbers in the millions and even billions, the number one hundred is petty cash. One hundred is a number I can get my mind around. And the fact that we went from the first alphabetic writing to Shakespeare in fewer than ninety generations, and to James Joyce and the World Wide Web in about a hundred, astonishes me.

I also realize that it's no wonder writing is so hard. We've just now begun learning how to do it.

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