Spoon or Fork?

My friend and I once had a riveting discussion about whether mashed potatoes should be eaten with a fork or a spoon. She firmly believes that mashed potatoes should be eaten with a spoon because reason suggests that soft foods fall through the cracks of a fork. I am convinced that mashed potatoes should rightfully be eaten with a fork because I have complete faith that the solidity of the potatoes will maintain itself on top of the fork. My friend and I have yet to resolve this conflict; we just settled on the conclusion that as long as the potatoes can be consumed, our differences of opinion remain irrelevant. Similar to this argument, the dual philosophers and mathematicians Blaise Pascal and Renè Descartes share a difference of opinion about certain elements of the world. Even though both Pascal’s Human Happiness and Descartes’ Discourse on the Method ultimately land on the same conclusions, their thought processes widely differ.

        In order to understand why Pascal’s and Descartes’ outlooks conflict with one another, we need to first understand how each of their personalities shape their thinking. Pascal’s approach to understanding humans demonstrates itself to be slightly more pessimistic than Descartes’ method. Pascal states that even though man proves to be “nobler than his slayer,” he still remains the “weakest in nature” similar to a “thinking reed” (21, 54). Pascal seems to be saying that just like a reed, humans can be swayed by external circumstances and remain subject to chance. Pascal’s way of thinking directly contrasts with Descartes’ idea that man proves himself superior by being able to discern the truth and being “so secure and certain” in truth “that it could not be shaken by any of the most extravagant suppositions” (28). Descartes believes in the infallible nature of man. Unlike Pascal, Descartes remains convinced that humans prevail over external circumstances and can make rational decisions all on their own.

        Pascal’s and Descartes’ opinions about the relationship of the mind and body also directly contradict each other. Pascal firmly supposes that “The way in which minds are attached to bodies is beyond man’s understanding, and yet this is what man is …” (54). When Pascal states that “yet this is what man is,” he indicates that even though man cannot perceive of the intertwinement of mind and body, mind and body still exist together within man. Descartes takes the opposite approach by positing that the mind “… is not sufficient to be lodged in the human body like a pilot in his ship, except perhaps to move its members …” (48). Descartes not only believes that the mind exists separate from the body, but he asserts that the mind would not even function properly if it was present in the body. Even though Pascal and Descartes have opposing viewpoints about the mind and body, they both still come to the conclusion that whatever the relationship, each entity must fulfill its purpose in man.

        Pascal’s and Descartes’ primary disagreement hinges on the emphasis of human senses versus the emphasis of human reason. Pascal remains a staunch supporter for the power of human senses. He theorizes, “Imagination. It is the dominant faculty in man, master of error and falsehood …” (3). Pascal rejects the popularly preached doctrine that reason holds the position as man’s governing force and suggests that man’s sense of imagination dictates his actions. Pascal rationalizes this theory by stating, “Reason may object in vain, it cannot fix the price of things” (4). Pascal’s statement gives imagination the power to set the worth of anything man encounters, robbing reason of man’s leading faculty. In a discordant manner, Descartes asserts, “ … because our senses sometimes deceive us, I decided to suppose that nothing was such as they led us to imagine it to be” (28). Descartes’ supposition seems to be a full-frontal assault on Pascal’s ideology. Descartes believes that the senses, such as those related to imagination, prove themselves overly fickle, so they do not offer a foundation solid enough for man to rely on when perceiving the world. Instead, Descartes places confidence in reason’s ability to discern truth from falsehood through doubt.

Pascal’s emphasis on human senses and Descartes’ emphasis on human reason lead them to have conflicting views as it relates to theology. Pascal ventures to prove the existence of God through faith rather than reason. Concerning the question of God’s existence, he affirms, “Reason cannot make you choose either, reason cannot prove either wrong” (66). Instead he believes, “We are therefore incapable of knowing either what he is or whether he is. That being so, who would dare to attempt an answer to the question?” (65). Pascal’s basis for believing in God roots itself in man’s incapacity to know through reasoning whether God exists, alternatively stressing faith that God exists without innate knowledge. Descartes attests that man is able to discern whether God exists because “… God has given each of us an inner light to distinguish the true from the false …” (24). In this way, Descartes concludes that we can reason that God exists by following the logic that humans are not wholly perfect, so we must derive from a “truly more perfect” being (30). Pascal and Descartes may have taken different routes, but they both arrive at the conclusion of God’s existence.

It would certainly be accurate to say that Pascal and Descartes have incompatible ideologies. Nevertheless, as science would have it, polar opposites attract and almost always arrive at the same point. I would like to think that Pascal and Descartes would make the best of friends, always arguing about which route to take, but making it there in the end. Just like my friend and me, we settled with the fact that as long as the mashed potatoes can be eaten, the question of spoon or fork does not really matter. Though we agreed to disagree, I will always voice my support for the fork.  

Fact Not Folly

     Think of a person, any person. It could be a close associate or simply a fond acquaintance. Now think of every adjective that could possibly be used to describe that individual. Did the word “perfect” happen to be one of those descriptions? Odds are that it was not. If it was, then a reevaluation might be in order because that analysis contradicts with the self-evident truth found in the person’s humanity, the individual's predisposition to faults. Nonetheless, we tend to overlook the faults in people in order to maintain a happy relationship with them. Erasmus addresses this phenomenon in his work titled Praise of Folly. In this satirical piece, Erasmus utilizes the narrator Folly in order to address societal issues in an ironic fashion. One of the social deceptions Folly speaks of lies within the confines of relationships as it specifically relates to friendship, marriage, and family.
     Folly attributes the success of friendship to the presence of, none other than, folly. She confronts this topic by saying, “Just think: winking at your friend’s faults, passing over them, turning a blind eye, building up illusions, treating obvious faults as virtues which call for love and admiration–isn’t all that related to folly?” (33). Upon first coming into contact with Folly’s statement, it may seem that her analysis has not truth to it at all. However, when a reader actually begins to meditate on what makes a friendship last, Folly’s statement morphs into a plausible explanation. Honestly, how else could a person be able to reconcile another person’s flaws in order to achieve a happy relationship except by being under the illusion of the friend’s perfect state? The subtle realization that the friend has faults may even come to mind, but the illusion remains in order for the relationship to sustain itself. Friendship proves not to be the only relationship where Folly rears her head.
     Folly also declares to her audience that she identifies herself as the ultimate arbitrator in thriving marriages. She begins her tangent on the importance of folly in marriage by stating, “Just tell me, please, what man would be willing to offer his neck to halter matrimony if he applied the usual practice of the wise man and first weighed up its disadvantages as a way of life? (20). This statement by Folly has proven to be every bachelor’s excuse for eluding marriage. But what makes someone want to throw away his or her singular status and marry another despite the other person’s faults? How can someone deal with another’s horrible sense of humor or weird birthmark for the rest of life? Folly takes full responsibility and praise for this baffling occurrence. Folly reasons that the love-smitten individual must be under the influence of folly in order to be able to take another’s peculiarities and turn them into charming characteristics. Although, Folly only accepts praise for her part in happy marriages. A breakdown of a marriage can be attributed to an absence of Folly when the mirage that once masked the loved-one’s blemishes has disappeared. Now, what other relationship remains that Folly can claim as her own?
     Folly reveals that she proves responsible for the unquestionable bond between parent and offspring. Describing an instance where the perplexing relationship between parent and child manifests itself, Folly announces, “… a father talks about the wink in his son’s squinting eye–what’s that, please, but folly pure and simple?” (33). It may seem normal for a father to love his son in spite of the son’s imperfections because love should rightly exist within a family. However, love proves to be an emotion set aside from reason, and “all emotions belong to Folly” (45). Mothers and fathers cannot help but think the best of their children because the parents are swayed by the winds of love emanating from our fellow-friend folly. Every person can agree that the illusion manifested between parent and offspring deserves praise because love within a family proves to be a wonderful sentiment.
     Folly seems to attribute an extensive volume of seemingly-natural occurrences to herself. It may appear illogical to credit Folly with the happiness of all relationships like those of friendship, marriage, and family. Notwithstanding, Erasmus does have a point with his use of Folly in addressing these oddities within the world. It leads the reader to question the cause of these peculiarities, and like everything within the world, the origin of all emotions leads to God himself. In fact, Genesis 1:27 of the Bible says that we are created in God’s own image. Our emotions originate in our Creator, and that proves to be a fact not folly.

Debunking Utopia

Would you like to reside in a country where happiness, peace, equality, and prosperity are available to every individual? Odds are that you would. I know I certainly would. This idea of a perfect society has its roots in the term "Utopia" coined by Sir Thomas More in his work titled Utopia. More's novel tells the story of a character by the name of Raphael who thoroughly describes a seemingly perfect society he encountered on his travels to a far-away island. But why does this type of place seem so fictitious? There seems to be good reason for its mythical appearance. Great-thinkers throughout the ages have attempted to create a perfect society, but human efforts have failed to create a faultless model. This fact has led many to question the plausibility of a perfect society. However, human nature proves itself to be vastly against the reality of a perfect society like the civilization described in Thomas More’s Utopia.

Human nature proves instinctively greedy, and thus a faultless civilization cannot exist in the midst of a covetous people. The fact that More's Utopian society thrives without money does not exclude it from being corrupted by the desire for materialistic gain. An instance within the text where human greed would naturally take over can be found in their communistic policy in which "Any necessary equipment which is not available in the country is got from one's hometown … You simply ask an official for what you want, and he hands it over, without any sort of payment" (51). Any human being in a situation where he or she needs an item and does not have to pay for it will inevitably exploit the system and acquire more. One's reasoning for obtaining more than needed at the moment could either be for the sake of possessing more than another individual and thereby elevating one's socioeconomic status, or simply to prepare for unexpected predicaments. After all, no matter where a person lives, it manifests itself virtually impossible to steer clear of unplanned situations because God rules, not people. Another basis for hoarding excessive materials could be to save another trip to the town official, and that leads us to the next innate human nature that hinders a perfect society.

        It proves evident that individuals are quite lazy, so even the most ideal environment cannot suppress a person's desire to take shortcuts. Even if a person has never tasted the sweet, natural remedy called rest and relaxation, an individual can still recognize a quicker means to an end. Within the “ideal” land of Utopia, a policy exists in which the “authorities announce a shorter work day” because of the notion that they do not “force people to work unnecessarily, for the main purpose of their whole economy is to give each person as much time free from physical drudgery as the needs of the community will allow … ” (59). The fact that the citizens of the Utopian society have the opportunity for reduced work days and actually take advantage of it suggests that the citizens have a motive behind finishing their work. What other motive could that be other than shortening the hours spent in “physical drudgery” which leads to leisure and relaxation? They are certainly not speedily finishing their work in order to hastily begin more unnecessary work. Following that reasoning, how do the people finish their work so quickly? If they are already working their hardest, they cannot work even harder. They must have found a shortcut to aid them in hastening the process. With the instinctive human desire for downtime and time-saving, a perfect place cannot exist. Another unavoidable human characteristic that inhibits an ideal civilization presents itself.

        Humans naturally desire to improve themselves by advancing their lives; with that at the forefront of every person’s mind, an unblemished community cannot exist because every person primarily strives for self-betterment rather than bettering other’s lives. More refutes the idea of innovation for self-improvement by stating, “… there are bound to be dozens of unnecessary trades carried on, which merely supply luxury goods and entertainment” (57). Clearly, innovation remains an important part of economic growth and not an unnecessary factor in an ideal society. But why does an entrepreneur invent? An entrepreneur might say that his chief purpose for innovation lies in the appetite to improve the lives of others, but an inventor would not come up with a product that does not improve his own life as well. Products would have been thrown out if their usefulness did not initially present itself to the inventor. The great entrepreneur Steve Jobs does not have people at the forefront of his mind when he puts a new phone on the market every couple of months with a price-tag of close to a thousand dollars. Yet, he like other inventors prove essential to the prosperity of a country because a land would fall drastically behind others and lose its status as a dominant world power without advancements. Obviously the instinctive human desire for self-improvement cannot be avoided; consequently, a perfect civilization in that sense proves unavoidable as well.

        Ultimately, human nature inhibits the reality of an ideal society similar to the perfect civilization described in Thomas More’s Utopia. Even though we as humans would like to be a flawless individual without imperfect characteristics, a perfect being besides Christ cannot exist. Greed will always lead us to want more out of life. Laziness will always lead us to walk the straightest path between two points, and self-improvement will continue to lead us to dream up larger-than-reality innovations. Nonetheless, we should not fret at the thought of always living in imperfection because if we are saved through Christ, we have the opportunity to experience the perfect reality of Heaven.

The Traveler’s Guide Through Hell

            Who would be your ideal travel companion on a journey to a mystical, remote island? Perhaps it would be a native who has first-hand knowledge of the local hot-spots. Maybe it would be your level-headed mother who keeps you from being swallowed by jungle animals. It might even be your overly-prepared friend who prides herself in reading all of the travel brochures and speaking the regional language. But what if you had a fellow traveler who encompasses every desirable characteristic imaginable? It sounds too magnificent to exist, right? Well, you are correct in theory. This faultless individual cannot be found in the world today. However, this unique specimen of a man named Virgil lies within the confines of Dante’s epic poem Inferno. This literary work of art tells the tale of a character by the name of Dante (not to be confused with the author Dante) who roams the Circles of Hell under the supervision of one groovy tour guide, Virgil. Virgil proves to be the ultimate travel companion through Hell by undertaking the impressive roles of guide, reason, and teacher.

            Virgil’s most coveted title exists in the role of Dante’s tour guide. Upon introducing himself to Dante, Virgil promptly tells Dante to “follow me” and declares that he will be Dante’s “guide” “through an eternal place” (9). If you have ever been on a trip with indecisive companions, you know very well how frustrating it can get. That makes Virgil’s immediate imperative command sound like a sweet blessing. Virgil also discloses that he has already journeyed through Hell due to the commandments of the brutish witch Erichtho (89). Virgil’s statement establishes him as a trustworthy guide, and that proves crucial on a trip to a place as dangerous as Hell. A credible guide also proves vital on vacations to foreign lands, because if you are aware of imminent threats, it becomes less likely that you will fall prey to them. For example, if your guide tells you pickpockets are prevalent in a specific area, you will guard your belongings with extra care, making sure not to leave your possessions within easy access. Virgil possesses more than one characteristic of a perfect travel companion.

            Virgil’s characteristics and actions undeniably echo reason and wisdom. It seems important to note that Virgil proves to be more than the average Uncle Virgil. (Am I the only one with an Uncle Virgil?) He happens to be The Virgil that wrote the masterpiece the Aeneid. It goes without saying that any sane individual would be delighted to have a poet spitting out rhymes as he or she traverses a foreign land. Evidence already suggests from his writings that Virgil encompasses a little more intelligence than the standard Homo sapiens. His wisdom remains steady—if not more powerful—in his afterlife, and that rings true countless times within the Inferno. Virgil’s vast reason comes in handy when the Evil Claws try to pursue Dante and Virgil. Dante panics, but Virgil remains calm, cool, and collected by stating that he has “devised a single plan” to escape the Evil Claws (237). Inevitably, one guy always panics, but it proves a splendid phenomenon when another takes control of the dire situation. Virgil demonstrates himself to be a bona fide Fred Jones, who directs the gang to split up and comes up with all kinds of elaborate schemes. He happens to be a poet, and he personally knows Scooby Doo. What more could you want in a fellow traveler? Well, the creek that manifests itself as Virgil’s exceptional characteristics does not run dry yet.

            Virgil’s astounding intellect lands him the position of Dante’s teacher. In the pilgrimage to the Underworld, Dante faces a double obstacle by personally stating that he has to overcome “the battle through/ the journey, and the pity of my heart” (13). Not only does Dante have to conquer the long road through Hell, but he has to overcome his pity for the condemned souls. Virgil insistently instills in Dante the idea that weeping over the lost souls proves itself to be a worthless act. In one instance, Dante cries for the distorted figure in Hell, but Dante rebukes him, saying, “Here pity lives the best when it is dead” (205). Basically, Virgil’s cheeky reprimand means that Dante needs to stop blubbering over the hopeless shades and move on with his life. It would be quite convenient to have Dante around on a vacation to constantly teach me essential life lessons. For instance, maybe he could teach me to eat less at those vacation buffets. Honestly, you have to possess some serious self-control to be able to keep your hands off the endless shrimp and the ever-flowing chocolate fountain. Virgil, teach me your ways.

            Virgil demonstrates himself to be the epitome of travel companions through his diverse roles of guide, reason, and teacher. Even though Hell vastly differs from the typical person’s exotic vacation, they say that once you have seen Hell, you have seen it all, so a Hawaiian getaway would not prove terribly trivial for Virgil. And hey, maybe he can even teach you how to limbo (or not to Limbo) while you are there. Granted, Virgil remains physically absent on the Earth, but he manifests himself within the pages of his writing. Sometimes books are the best travel companions anyway. Ultimately, books are words that someone wrote. Are we not words that God spoke? 

Consolation of Exercise

I used to run mountain trails filled with adventure and thrill,

but now my stomach aches with donuts and cake,

and my diet is that only an

overweight boxing champion could take,

innumerable calories for a pot-belly pig of a woman.

To the youthful,

Sugar

is the craze, but now that I am heavy and laden,

and it weighs down more than my mind,

I cease to be a fair maiden,

yet still I consume serving after serving.

Relentless.

        My stomach sang these hymns to me through its tantrum-filled rumbles as I contemplated whether I should endure a circuit at the gym or a round of treats at Krispy Kreme. The donuts won out in the end. Here I hibernated on my bed amidst a dozen pastries, when out of my glazed-induced coma appeared a mighty man. His appearance startled me. The man’s biceps were alarmingly similar in size to basketballs, and his calves were even more prominent. Not only that, but the man’s odor was a distinguishable mixture of protein shakes and the sweat of a million Olympic athletes. He carried an apple and a banana in his left hand and a 20-pound dumbbell in his right.

The man’s piercing glare switched incessantly between the box of donuts and me. With a voice like a personal trainer, he roared, “How did these sugary varmints find their way in here? They provide no comfort for the miseries of a lazy woman. If these donuts were infecting an ordinary individual, it would be a different story. This is a five-time cross-country state champion for goodness sakes!” In one swift motion, he cast the pastries into my bedside garbage can.

I was almost put to tears at the thought of losing my precious chocolate-sprinkled desserts. If it was not for the intimidating nature of this man, I would have lashed out in furious rage. Still, I wanted to know who this muscled monster thought he was trashing the one substance that was providing me with the energy I needed to make it through the day.  He approached the television that was resting on my bedside table and pressed the power button with his sausage-like index finger. The television promptly turned on to an unfamiliar program and the motivational poet addressed me exclaiming:

The heaviness of weight

hides the abs.

Those calories you ate,

glazed and sprinkled,

hides it further.

A jelly-bellied woman

encountering a buffet

will stop in her tracks.

In the same manner,

your motivation

has no inclination

to proceed.

Discard your Netflix,

your pizza,

and your covers.

Let go of the donuts

and your body will

Recover.

He remained concentrated on the program, but as soon as the narrator ceased speaking, he flicked the television off and returned his focus to me. The mystery man demanded, “Wipe the sprinkles off your shirt and put on some tennis shoes! We need to whip you into shape!” After that proclamation, I instantly recognized him. It was none other than Sir Exercise himself. He had been with me all the way from little-league soccer to high school cross-country. It was now freshman year of college, and I had not seen his face in months.

I knew better than to ignore his commands, so I reluctantly rolled out of bed and dusted off a pair of ancient Asics running shoes. He pushed me out the door of my dorm out into the blinding sunlight.

I was terrified at the thought of what sort of arduous activity Sir Exercise might compel me to complete. He bellowed, “I know we have been separated for a while, so I am going to start you off with a little something I like to call walking.” I inquiringly pleaded, “Why do I have to walk when I can just drive my car around campus?”

Sir Exercise sighed, “I guess you have drifted farther than I had imagined. Let me tell you a little narrative.”

She who has seen into fitness’ secrets

now lies obese,

her body weighed down

by heavy meals

and no social skills.

With eyes to the screen,

she no longer sees

the grand benefits of walking.

She used to seek daily fitness goals,

and she knew that a ten-minute mile pace

is all that it takes

for wonderful health

and a reason

to feel satisfied about yourself.

        Realizing the astounding similarities this tale had to my life, I uttered, “Alright. Alright. I am now beginning to understand your reasoning. Commence the walking.”

        Sir Exercise and I trudged side-by-side in silence for half an hour. I occasionally eyeballed my stomach to see if it was shrinking yet. To my discouragement, it remained the same hefty size. We made an entire loop around campus, outlining as far as the football field back to Margaret Harris dorm. Boy, was I sweating. When we reached the dorm again, I was exceedingly close to coughing up a lung (or maybe it was a donut). I came to the sudden realization that I needed to start walking more in order to get back into decent physical shape.

        Through deep breaths, I airily announced to Sir Exercise, “Good workout. I now fully comprehend the need for walking.” Before I could turn around to head back to my room to be reunited with my comfy bed and maybe fish those unlucky donuts out of the trash, Sir Exercise said, “Whoa now, it is not time to hang up your shoes yet. We are advancing to light jogging. That was only the warm up…” Everything he said after that was a blurred mist of absolute bewilderment. “The warm up? Jogging? I thought we were finished! Why is there a need for a warm up when the warm up is an exercise in itself?”

        Sir Exercise exhaled, “You seem to have forgotten the key component of exercise. The warm up is crucial to successful physical activity. You are halfway to discovering the beauty of exercise again. But first, let me relay another tale to assist you in your understanding.”

       

On the athletes’ running track,

the coaches instruct the athletes

how to warm up before the physical test.

So one coach commands his player

to make the best of his rest.

Another directs his runner

to warm up his muscles

for the event.

Can you guess

which runner

won first place?

You would be right

if you said

the athlete who warmed up

was the one that came out ahead,

a trophy for one,

and a pulled hammy for the other.

Oh,

What a bummer.

I contemplated this notion along with Sir Exercise’s previous assessments, and every puzzle piece seemed to instantly find its place in the puzzle. I remembered. I remembered the desire I previously possessed to exercise. The runs I would go on every day just to clear my head. The healthy meals I would consume. The slim waist I sported. I recalled it all. Exercise is an important part of who I am. It makes me feel physically and mentally strong, and it is a part of me that will never be forgotten again. So long donuts. Hello exercise.

What's the Fig Idea?

Examine the environment around you. What do you see? Lift an ear to your surroundings. What do you hear? Take a healthy whiff of the air. What do you smell? Almost every person will have a different answer for each question. However, every response has one characteristic in common. Let’s say you see the oak tree outside your window shedding leaves in the autumn air. Your initial reaction to that observation might be, “Ugh, more leaves to rake out of the yard.” Nevertheless, study the leaves a little closer. Now you might notice that the leaves add a beautiful shade of orange, yellow, and brown to the once dull, green grass. When we isolate objects and events aside from our immediate reactions, we feel a sort of charm or attraction to that focal point. Marcus Aurelius’ work Meditations provides readers with numerous relatable illustrations of this natural phenomenon.

Aurelius supplies one example of the charm of individual, natural occurrences through his model of baking bread. He states, “The loaf splits open here and there, and those very cracks, in one way a failure of the baker’s profession, somehow catch the eye and give particular stimulus to our appetite” (16). Aurelius gives a perfect paradigm of this incident by appealing to the appetitive desire that every human experiences. Even though we do not often bake bread, we are certainly familiar with other types of baking, such as those of cakes and brownies. Likewise, cracks in cakes and brownies are a symbol of a chef’s deficiency. However, the ever-so-subtle peak of the chocolate layers underneath the icing accompanied by the sugary, sweet smell seems enough to arouse even the most self-disciplined individual. Aurelius provides other representations of this phenomenon.

Aurelius presents another illustration of the pleasure of singular, incidental observations through his various examples of ripened fruits. He describes how figs “burst open at full maturity,” as well as how the ripened, decayed olives are considered beautiful (16). These instances accurately describe the phenomenon because they solicit the attention of our most trusted, yet least trustworthy, sense of perception, sight. If you know anything about figs, or if you have ever tried to grow them, you know the cracking of their shells is frustrating when the fruits are not ready. However, it gives you a glimpse into what the fully ripened fruits will resemble. Now your thoughts consist of fig newtons, fig pies, and fig muffins. Similarly, olives are best when they are fully ripened. You should pick olives in their last stage of growth when they are dark green or purple. They may not look as tasty as the bright greens of the growing olives, but they are sure to satisfy your taste buds. Set aside your initial reaction to the unsightly colors of the ripened olive or the unpleasant nature of the cracked fig and focus your attention on the particulars that lead to the positive outcome.

Through Aurelius’ examples of the bread, fig, and olive, the phenomenon of natural, isolated observations can be easily identified. Objects and events are not always what they initially appear to be. Another aspect of this phenomenon seems to say that you should always look for the positive rather than the negative in everything you see, hear, smell, or even touch. For instance, maybe you should not view this essay as another text to read. Try looking at it as a learning experience. Even if you do not agree with what I said, you are still familiarized with the concept and Aurelius’ examples. Try this approach in everything you do, and I promise your life will be more fulfilled.

The Conversation

By Gracie

Translated by Me

Introduction:

Peers of the Conversation

Gracie, who is the narrator.

Dr. Calebs.

Adrianne.

Tommy.

Maria.

Patty.

Bailey.

Dawson.

Cathlyn.

And others who were silent participants.

        The setting of the retold conversation is in the Great Books Honors room in the M.B. “Pop” Myers Fine Arts building on Faulkner University’s campus; and the entire conversation is narrated by Gracie the week after it actually took place to you.

The Initial Question

      I was walking back from chapel last week on my way to Great Books class, that I might gain some valuable knowledge; and also because I wanted to discuss Plato’s The Republic. At that moment, Cathlyn caught up to me and wittily inquires, “Are you mentally prepared for this class yet?” I replied, “I never am.” We reached the classroom and plopped down in our normal chairs. My peers strolled into the room one by one, all with a grim look on their face. Dr. Calebs briskly strides through the door and takes his seat at the table. He begins in his usual manner by discussing the syllabus, distributing the sheets containing our questions about the book, and he then asks, “So, what were your feelings on Plato’s Republic?” Dawson viciously proclaims, “I hate it!” The whole class chimes in unanimously with a general inclination towards his opinion. After everyone has announced their utter distaste for the book, Dr. Calebs turns the tables over to Bailey so she could make known her question. Bailey perplexingly queries, “Why do they conclude that the painter of the bed isn’t a creator of a bed?” She then flips to page 197 of The Republic and provides a brief summary of the section that essentially says that Socrates, the narrator of the book, poses the notion that the painter is not a maker of the bed, only an imitator. After her concluding statement, a brief silence crept through the room.

Response 1

      Patty breaks the silence and declares that the reason the painter is not the creator is because the painter does not make a bed, but only paints what a bed would look like. In order to legitimize her claim, she cites a phrase on page 197 that reads, “… we may fairly designate him as the imitator of that which the others make.” She affirms that this statement by Glaucon, the subject of Socrates’ questioning, adequately explains the idea that the artist only “imitates” the likeness of the painting and does not, in fact, “make” a real bed.

Dr. Calebs nods approvingly and indicates, “I think you are onto something.”

Tommy articulates, “But isn’t creating a bed technically ‘making’ a bed??”

Response 2

        Adrianne had been quietly contemplating her thoughts with a glazed expression in her eyes. In response to Tommy’s sub-question, she finally postulates, “Making a bed in this sense constitutes building an actual bed that can be used to sleep in. Painting a picture of a bed is only creating a likeness of the actual bed, so it is not a real bed.”

Dawson folds his arms on the table, and harmonizes with her assumption by asserting, “Hence, the painter is the imitator.”

Maria further elaborates, “The text on page 197 also states that the ‘true’ bed is the one that is made by God, and the other two beds, the carpenter’s and the painter’s, are imitations of the ‘true’ bed.”

In that brief moment of tranquility, Dr. Jacobs remarks, “We are still hitting on the answer, but we are not quite there yet.”

Conclusion

        Throughout the whole conversation I had been gathering facts and translating them onto paper in the form of a diagram to help me understand the concept. However, the diagram, like my thought process, was incomplete. What was I missing? I had no clue. The bell that marked the end of class chimed. Holy moly! Where had the time gone?? In our usual manner, the class drew silent. Meanwhile, as the chimes continued, I searched the text for an answer that would complete my chart. Alas, I discovered the missing piece! The answer was in plain sight on page 196. It reads, “… if any one were to say that the work of the maker of the bed … has real existence, he could hardly be supposed to be speaking the truth.” Let me detail my revelation in terms of diagram. There are three types of beds. These beds are God’s bed, the carpenter’s bed, and the painter’s bed. God’s bed is the true bed. The carpenter’s bed is one step from the true bed. The painter’s bed is two steps from the true bed. Therefore, both the carpenter and the painter possess imitations of the true bed, or variances of the truth. Essentially, on a truth spectrum, God’s bed is the truth and every step from the truth is closer to what is false. I felt relieved to know the truth.

But then I realized … my diagram is an illustration of the truth, so do I really know the truth?