Welcome to my commonplace blog

The goal of this blog is to preserve a few ideas and quotes from books I read. In the old days when books were not so readily available, people kept "commonplace books" where they copied choice passages they wanted to be able to remember and perhaps reuse. The idea got picked up by V.F.D. and it's common knowledge that most of that organization's volunteers have kept commonplace books, and so have Laura and I.

I'm sure there are many other Internet sites and blogs dedicated to the same idea. But this one is mine. Feel free to look around and leave comments, but not spam.

30 September 2012

The Song of Songs -- A New Version (Sam Torode)

Sam Torode's verion of the Song of Songs, which was the inspiration for his book The Dirty Parts of the Bible is not a scholarly version, whatever that means, but it's pleasant to read and a document of the author's engagement with the ancient poem.


Quotes:

Love is an eternal fire— one spark will set you ablaze. Oceans can’t extinguish it, rivers can’t wash it away. If a man tried to buy love— even with all of his family’s wealth— he would be scorned, ridiculed.

23 September 2012

The Full Cupboard of Life (The No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency) (Alexander McCall Smith)

Number 5 in the series, continues the development of the remarkable characters and their setting. By now I'm firmly addicted to this series, and i will miss it when i finish.


Quotes:

Why, she asked herself, why keep a wound open when forgiveness can close it?

He was a good man, which, when all is said and done, is the finest thing that you can say about any man. He was a good man.

“They will ruin cars left, right, and centre,” he said. “That is what will happen to them. There will be great sadness among the cars of Botswana.”

Mr J.L.B. Matekoni stood back respectfully. The revealing of an engine of this nature—an engine which was older than the Republic of Botswana itself—was a special moment, and he did not want to show unseemly curiosity as the beautiful piece of engineering was exposed to view.

“Yes,” said Mma Ramotswe. “We all know that it is women who take the decisions, but we have to let men think that the decisions are theirs. It is an act of kindness on the part of women.”

She approached him carefully, as one always should when coming across somebody reading the Bible,

But there was a great deal that people did not understand and would only learn through bitter experience. In her view, one of these things was the truth of the old African saying that it takes an entire village to raise a child. Of course it does; of course it does. Everybody in a village had a role to play in bringing up a child—and cherishing it—and in return that child would in due course feel responsible for everybody in that village. That is what makes life in society possible. We must love one another and help one another in our daily lives.

“Nkosi Sikeleli Afrika,” God Bless Africa, give her life, watch over her children.

15 September 2012

The Way of a Pilgrim; The Pilgrim Continues His Way (Russian)

It's my second reading of this book. I like it, not only for the strange (to my tradition) Orthodox prayer tradition, but by the captivating way it's exposed through Russian peasant stories.


Quotes:

By the grace of God I am a Christian, by my actions a great sinner, and by calling a homeless wanderer of the humblest birth who roams from place to place. My worldly goods are a knapsack with some dried bread in it on my back, and in my breast pocket a Bible. And that is all.

He was silent for a while and looked at me closely. Then he said, “Ceaseless interior prayer is a continual yearning of the human spirit towards God. To succeed in this consoling exercise, we must pray more often to God to teach us to pray without ceasing. Pray more, and pray more fervently. It is prayer itself which will reveal to you how it can be achieved unceasingly; but it will take some time.” So saying, he had food brought to me, gave me money for my journey and let me go. He did not explain the matter.

“The continuous interior Prayer of Jesus is a constant uninterrupted calling upon the divine Name of Jesus with the lips, in the spirit, in the heart while forming a mental picture of his constant presence and imploring his grace during every occupation, at all times, in all places, even during sleep. The appeal is couched in these terms, ‘Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy on me.’

“Now I give you my permission to say your Prayer as often as you wish and as often as you can. Try to devote every moment you are awake to the Prayer, call on the Name of Jesus Christ without counting the number of times, and submit yourself humbly to the will of God, looking to him for help. I am sure

I gave up saying the Prayer with my lips. I simply listened carefully to what my heart was saying.

“If you do not understand the Word of God, the devils understand what you are reading and tremble,”

“The holy book is full of profound wisdom,” he was saying. “It is a secret treasury of the meaning of the hidden judgments of God. It is not everywhere and to everyone that it is accessible, but it does give to each such guidance as they need, to the wise, wise guidance, to the simple-minded, simple guidance.

Lord! what mysterious things humans are!

“Everyone has their own gift from God,” I answered. “There have been many preachers, Father, but there have also been many hermits.

a secret prayer lies hidden within the human heart. The individuals themselves do not know it, yet working mysteriously within their souls it urges them to prayer according to each one’s knowledge and power.

The Apostle says, “Pray without ceasing.” That is, he teaches us to have the remembrance of God in all times and places and circumstances. If you are making something you must call to mind the Creator of all things, if you see the light, remember the Giver of it, if you see the heavens and the earth and the sea and all that is in them, wonder and praise the Maker of them. If you put on your clothes, recall whose gift they are and thank the one who provides for your life. In short, let every action be a cause of your remembering and praising God, and lo! you will be praying without ceasing and therein your soul will always rejoice.’

“The trouble is that we live far from ourselves and have but little wish to get any nearer to ourselves. Indeed we are running away all the time to avoid coming face to face with our real selves and we barter the truth for trifles.

“The one who has attained to true prayer and love has no sense of the differences between things: they do not distinguish the righteous person from the sinner but love them all equally and judge nobody, as God causes the sun to shine and the rains to fall on the just and the unjust.”

“You have no right, friend,” said the starets, “to abuse and curse the Jews like this. God made them just as God made us. You should be sorry for them and pray for them not curse them. Believe me, the disgust you feel for them comes from the fact that you are not grounded in the love of God and have no interior prayer as a security and, therefore, no inward peace.

“Why, of course I know that Prayer. I used to say it sometimes to keep my courage up when I was going to do a robbery.”

Everything seems particularly desirable to us from a distance. But we all find out by experience that every place, though it may have its advantages, has its drawbacks too.

Therefore, when one happens to remember one's neighbor, or at the time appointed for doing so, it is well to bring a mental view of the neighbor into the Presence of God, and to offer a prayer in the following form: “Most merciful God, Thy will be done, which will have all persons to be saved and to come unto the knowledge of the truth, save and help thy servant N. Take this desire of mine as a cry of love which thou has commanded.”

04 September 2012

The Kalahari Typing School for Men: A No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency Novel (4) (The No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency) (Alexander McCall Smith)

I love this series.


Quotes:

Sins, thought Mma Ramotswe, are darker and more powerful when contemplated within confining walls. Out in the open, under such a sky as this, misdeeds were reduced to their natural proportions—small, mean things that could be faced quite openly, sorted, and folded away.

He felt weary. Life was a battle against wear; the wear of machinery and the wear of the soul. Oil. Grease. Wear.

He closed the door behind him, taking one last look at the pump. It was an old friend, in a way. No modern pump would look like that, with its wheel and its beautiful heavy casing; no modern pump would make a noise like the trumpeting of an elephant. This pump had come from far away and could be given back to the British now. Here is your pump, which you left in Africa. It is finished now.

“You don’t have to read a book to understand how the world works,” Mma Potokwani continued. “You just have to keep your eyes open.”

No, this was not a lie; it was an interpretation.

“That is somebody who comes to stay with us from time to time,” said Mrs. Moffat. “He writes books.”

02 September 2012

Morality for Beautiful Girls: A No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency Novel (3) (Morality for Beautiful Girls (No. 1 Ladies Detective Agency) (Alexander Mccall Smith)

By now, I'm hopelessly addicted to this series!


Quotes:

It was a good thing to be an African. There were terrible things that happened in Africa, things that brought shame and despair when one thought about them, but that was not all there was in Africa. However great the suffering of the people of Africa, however harrowing the cruelty and chaos brought about by soldiers—small boys with guns, really—there was still so much in Africa from which one could take real pride. There was the kindness, for example, and the ability to smile, and the art and the music.

In her experience, when people began to behave out of character it was a sign that something was very wrong.

NOT EVERYBODY had a maid, of course, but if you were in a well-paid job and had a house of the size which Mma Ramotswe did, then not to employ a maid—or indeed not to support several domestic servants—would have been seen as selfishness.

That understanding, thought Mma Ramotswe, was the beginning of all morality. If you knew how a person was feeling, if you could imagine yourself in her position, then surely it would be impossible to inflict further pain. Inflicting pain in such circumstances would be like hurting oneself.

I am lucky, thought Mma Ramotswe. I am lucky that I can make somebody so happy just by saying something.

There were eight main tribes in Botswana—and some smaller ones—and although most younger people did not think these things should be too important, for the older generation they counted a great deal.

You can cultivate your mind, or you can cultivate your hairstyle. But you cannot do both.

Motlamedi was, quite simply, a bad girl. This description was very specific; it had nothing to do with bad women or bad ladies—they were quite different categories. Bad women were prostitutes; bad ladies were manipulative older ladies, usually married to older men, who interfered in the affairs of others for their own selfish ends. The expression bad girl, by contrast, referred to somebody who was usually rather younger (certainly under thirty) and whose interest was in having a good time.

“Do not be ashamed to cry, Rra,” said Mma Ramotswe. “It is the way that things begin to get better. It is the first step.”