Prospero's Books

We escape to what is most real

Michael Gerson, writing for the Washington Post, reflects on the persistence of Shakespeare. He concludes:

In a time deluged by ideology -- when everyone is urged to take a side and join the political battle -- Shakespeare offers a different message: that the most important and dramatic choices are made in the human soul. Some steps, once taken, cannot be retraced. Some appetites, once freed, become a prison.

But the plays are not simple sermons. Fate can be indifferent to our best intentions. Even the purest love can lead to disaster. All our explanations of suffering are incomplete.

We watch the struggling souls in Shakespeare's plays with uncomfortable self-recognition. In their raw honesty we see our own nature, even those parts that are despairing and lawless. And as these characters are transformed, we see ourselves differently as well.

And so we enter a dark theater (or green or beach or riverside) and escape to what is most real.

(Thanks to News on the Rialto for the link.)

In the Multiverse

The poem I like most this week:

In the Multiverse

If there are really many universes,
As many physicists now claim, if there
Are infinite universes out there –
Then I exist an infinite number
Of times and places, and so do my wife
And baby daughter. In some, sadly, I
Do not exist; in some, my wife and I,
We never met. And that’s the tragedy.
But out there too my mother also lives
And, living, knows and loves my daughter who,
In my own universe, she’s never seen
And, knowing that, I think on it with joy.

--Troy Camplin, Interdisciplinary World

A practiced imagination

"I would rather have in my science class a young person who was raised on fairy tales and Harry Potter than a person who spent elementary school science classes measuring the growth of bean sprouts in styrofoam cups on the classroom window sill. We all know that bean sprouts need sunlight and water; that's common sense. But it requires a practiced imagination to appreciate the spinning loom of the DNA that makes the plants what they are. . . ."

--Chet Raymo, Science Musings

A daily reading fix

With all the books I read, I rarely discipline myself to dip into the same book every day, and to enjoy the continuity that can result.

So I was delighted today to learn about DailyLit, a free service that will send you the full text of a book in daily e-mail messages. Dante's Inferno, for example, arrives in 38 parts, while Darwin's On the Origin of Species takes 205 messages, a well-spent seven months.

Because I love science fiction (and haven't read any for a long time) and because I love Walt Disney World, I'm starting with Cory Doctorow's Down and Out in the Magic Kingdom, in 65 installments. I'm going to try to make it the first thing I read each morning for the next couple of months.

Many 19th-century novels, some of Dickens's for example, were first published in installments, and readers waited eagerly for each new piece. I'll see if it works for me.

(Thanks to 43 Folders for letting me know.)

Deep underlying relationships

At TomDispatch.com, Chip Ward has a fascinating, and somewhat alarming, article on the need for resilience in the systems we create. His chief example: the disappearance of large numbers of honeybees. Here's just a taste:

Restoring resilience to manmade systems will require an eye for options, an appreciation for redundancy, and a tolerance for chaos. Messy organizations may also be creative. But, hard as it may be, we will always find it easier to anticipate disturbance and build choices into our manmade systems than to understand how to conserve resilience in the natural systems that support us. To do that, we must grasp the deep underlying relationships between such "slow variables" as weather, soil composition, and plant succession that we often miss. We will have to learn to see how connectivity and feedback loops operate in nature and how futile it is, in the long run, to impose narrow notions of efficiency on natural systems that are profoundly dynamic and inherently unpredictable.

How resilient are we? Crisis is also an opportunity for change. As the bees die, we are getting an unmistakable warning. Without pollination, life as we know it is not possible. Think "tiny canaries in the coal mine." Then think "resilience."

(Thanks to Donna at Changing Places for the tip.)

The absolute ubiquity of non-linearity

My favorite business guru, Tom Peters, has posted a fantastic article on the importance of nonlinear thinking in business and geopolitics, as well as in our personal lives. The short article touches on Alvin Toffler, China's future, Nicholas Taleb's book The Black Swan, Rudy Giuliani, and 9/11. Here's a sample:

To dismiss the myth of continuity and acknowledge the absolute ubiquity of non-linearity, black swans and the like—i.e., their centrality on the scorecard of your life's record as parent, spouse, professional—means that you will never again look at the world the same way . . . .

Blue Marble

Ever since 1969, when a photograph of the earth from space appeared on the cover of the first Whole Earth Catalog, I've been a nut for earth photographs. I'm sure they have helped fuel my interest in whole systems.

NASA has just published the best photo so far, made up of "true color" images of each square kilometer.

Have a look! Welcome home!

(Thanks to Seed Magazine for the link.)