Who was the chap who was always beefing about losing gazelles?

From Jeeves in the Morning by P.G. Wodehouse.

"Thank you, sir."

"Who was the chap who was always beefing about losing gazelles?"

"The poet Moore, sir. He complained that he had never nursed a dear gazelle, to glad him with its soft black eye, but when it came to know him well and love him, it was sure to die."

"It's the same with me. I am a gazelle short. You don't mind me alluding to you as a gazelle, Jeeves?"

"Not at all, sir."

The poem by Thomas Moore is The Fire-Worshippers (in The Complete Poems of Sir Thomas Moore) and the relevant passage is:

Oh! Ever thus, from childhood's hour,
I've seen my fondest hopes decay;
I never loved a tree or flower,
But 'twas the first to fade away.
I never nurs'd a dear gazelle,
To glad me with its soft black eye,
But when it came to know me well,
And love me, it was sure to die!

"The Odyssey will tell you an awful lot about human nature and life"

There are some wonderful versions of both the Odyssey and the Iliad available for children (such as Rosemary Sutcliff's The Wanderings of Odysseus and Black Ships Before Troy). Lane Wallace recently had an article in the February 19, 2010 The Atlantic Monthly, Original Sin on Wall Street in which one of her interviewees made the point of the importance of a well rounded knowledge of the classics, including, Odysseus.

"I think a lot of [the financial crisis] could perhaps have been avoided if our business leaders had a broader vision," Bogle told me. "I'm skeptical about the narrowness of the business school curriculum. I happen to believe it should have a much greater liberal arts emphasis, and even a much greater emphasis on the classics. The Odyssey will tell you an awful lot about human nature and life, and therefore about business, and societal values. Read the Odyssey. Read Dante's Inferno. You can also learn a lot by reading Seneca's essay on the shortness of life or Montaigne's essay on vanity."

On the balance between distinctiveness and commonality

From E.D. Hirsch's Cultural Literacy.

Hirsch identifies the paradox that if there is to be a nation committed to tolerance and diversity, there still has to be some core of commonality - if no one shares values and beliefs in common, then there is no longer a common community.

. . . the values affirmed in traditional literate culture can serve a whole spectrum of value attitudes. Unquestionably, decisions about techniques of conveying traditions to our children are among the most sensitive and important decisions of a pluralistic nation. But the complex problem of how to teach values in American schools mustn't distract attention from our fundamental duty to teach shared content.

Seen only amidst the lumber of libraries which are seldom visited

Samuel Johnson, from Idler No. 59. Saturday, June 2, 1759. On the fate of reputations of books and more broadly the challenge of writing for today's audience in a fashion that catches the current fancy but might also endure outside the particularities of the here-and-now.

Fame, like all other things which are supposed to give or to increase happiness, is dispensed with the same equality of distribution. He that is loudly praised will be clamorously censured; he that rises hastily into fame will be in danger of sinking suddenly into oblivion.

Of many writers who filled their age with wonder, and whose names we find celebrated in the books of their contemporaries, the works are now no longer to be seen, or are seen only amidst the lumber of libraries which are seldom visited, where they lie only to show the deceitfulness of hope, and the uncertainty of honour.

Of the decline of reputation many causes may be assigned. It is commonly lost because it never was deserved; and was conferred at first, not by the suffrage of criticism, but by the fondness of friendship, or servility of flattery. The great and popular are very freely applauded; but all soon grow weary of echoing to each other a name which has no other claim to notice, but that many mouths are pronouncing it at once.

But many have lost the final reward of their labours, because they were too hasty to enjoy it. They have laid hold on recent occurrences, and eminent names, and delighted their readers with allusions and remarks, in which all were interested, and to which all, therefore, were attentive. But the effect ceased with its cause; the time quickly came when new events drove the former from memory, when the vicissitudes of the world brought new hopes and fears, transferred the love and hatred of the publick to other agents; and the writer, whose works were no longer assisted by gratitude or resentment, was left to the cold regard of idle curiosity.

He that writes upon general principles, or delivers universal truths, may hope to be often read, because his work will be equally useful at all times and in every country; but he cannot expect it to be received with eagerness, or to spread with rapidity, because desire can have no particular stimulation: that which is to be loved long, must be loved with reason rather than with passion. He that lays his labours out upon temporary subjects, easily finds readers, and quickly loses them; for what should make the book valued when the subject is no more?

We have nothing to give them here. They have loved reading.

From Virginia Woolf's essay, How Should One Read a Book?

Yet who reads to bring about an end, however desirable? Are there not some pursuits that we practise because they are good in themselves, and some pleasures that are final? And is not this among them? I have sometimes dreamt, at least, that when the Day of Judgment dawns and the great conquerors and lawyers and statesmen come to receive their rewards - their crowns, their laurels, their names carved indelibly upon imperishable marble - the Almighty will turn to Peter and will say, not without a certain envy when he sees us coming with our books under our arms, "Look, these need no reward. We have nothing to give them here. They have loved reading."

Things that ought to be taught and which aren't

In the earlier post, There is a pressing need for clarity about our educational priorities, quoting from Hirsch, I think he is indirectly getting at something that we at Through the Magic Door are trying to address through Growing a Reading Culture. We can only outsource so much educational responsibility to schools. A modicum of core behaviors and knowledge has to be cultivated within the family environment. Cultivating a love of reading that establishes the habit of enthusiastic reading is a key facilitator for reducing the burden on schools. As Hirsch observes, schools cannot teach everything. Within the family we can make up for some of that desirable knowledge that constrained time in school prevents from being imparted. The best mechanism for filling in the gaps between what can be taught and what ought to be taught is growing that love of reading. An enthusiastic reader will often, completely incidentally, substantially fill out most those missing enumerated subjects of things that ought to be taught and which aren't or can't be taught.

If we want to equip children with cultural literacy, we need to equip them with the love and habit of reading.

Universal literacy is inseparable from democracy

From E.D. Hirsch's Cultural Literacy.

In the present day, that dream depends on mature literacy. No modern society can hope to become a just society without a high level of universal literacy. Putting aside for the moment the practical arguments about the economic uses of literacy, we can contemplate the even more basic principle that underlies our national system of education in the first place - that people in a democracy can be entrusted to decide all important matters for themselves because they can deliberate and communicate with one another. Universal literacy is inseparable from democracy and is the canvas for Martin Luther King's picture as well as for Thomas Jefferson's.

Both these leaders understood that just having the right to vote is meaningless if a citizen is disenfranchised by illiteracy or semiliteracy. Illiterate and semiliterate Americans are condemned not only to poverty, but also to the powerlessness of incomprehension. Knowing that they do not understand the issues, and feeling prey to manipulative oversimplifications, they do not trust the system of which they are supposed to be masters. They do not feel themselves to be active participants in our republic, and they often do not turn out to vote. The civic importance of cultural literacy lies in the fact that true enfranchisement depends upon knowledge, knowledge upon literacy, and literacy upon cultural literacy.