European Adventures

After visiting a variety of exciting cities in Europe, I wonder whether the experience is valuable because of the places I visited or because of my unique encounter with those places. It strikes me that many of the them hardly seem worth seeing, as they are little more than the remnants of what once existed, and they offer little insight into the past except to those who examine them though the lens of history. What then is the value of seeing old columns standing in Pergamum? The library columns are long gone, the altar to Zeus is off in Germany, and the works of Aristotle have been lost to time. Why do I care that a few temple pillars are still there?

Then again, perhaps that is the wonder of the place; all of these great treasures were once in the same location, and I can see where people of ancient times placed these structures, perhaps understanding a bit of their thinking. Many of the sites we visited were constructed on hills, which seems to be a position of defense, as hills are always the easiest part of a country to defend. These also were places of frequent activity, though, with the temples encouraging people to come offer sacrifices. Perhaps the temple was often with or near the acropolis because it was designed to give people the feeling of being closer to the gods. When you stand on a high hillside and look out over the land and the sea, it almost does appear as though you are on top of the world. The Greeks and the Romans were probably struck by that feeling as well and judged those places to be the best locations for honoring the gods. It is nearly impossible to avoid a sense of unlimited freedom and unlimited joy when resting there. Not all of the temples are at the utmost heights, but that does not diminish their impressive nature: the temple to Poseidon in Athens is certainly not very high relative to the rest of the city, but it is high compared to the bay and the ocean near it, and feeling the full wind as you stand looking out over the Mediterranean is just as exhilirating as being up by the Parthenon, even if the structure itself is less impressive.

The odd twist to my perspective on these places is that I enjoyed the little treasures of the trip more than the grand sights. I saw Ephesus, Delphi, Athens...and yet the places I probably enjoyed the most were Assos, Santorini, and the Bodrum yachts. Right outside our hotel in Assos, I saw the moonlight glancing off the waves as it sent a beam across the Aegean toward the shore. That was when I first picked up the journal I had packed; I have not journaled for years, and I had little interest in resuming the habit, but I somehow found writing unavoidable in the presence of that much beauty.

The Bodrum yachts are probably going to be a universal favorite, as they served as a good basis for our interactions on the trip. Having three days aboard these yachts gave the firsthand experience of sailing the Aegean, enjoying the relaxation of sunbathing on the deck, swimming in the sea, or even standing on the bow with the wind rushing through your hair as the ship raced across the water. This is not just an experience of idleness, though; sailing across the sea, you cannot help but wonder what it would be like to be leading your own fleet of ships over the waters. What would it be like to lead a fleet of a hundred ships? or perhaps a thousand ships? Homer probably thought similarly as he sailed across the sea. Especially in ancient Greece, with the costly nature of a large fleet, it takes quite a significant event to spur the movement of a thousand ships. The question of what event in ancient times would have moved so many ships is answered with the Iliad, although the story takes on far more intricacy after this initial consideration. Yet, it was possibly through the simple experience of sailing that Homer began wondering about fleets and that wine dark sea.

Given that historical influence on several of these sites along with my own inclinations toward history, it is still quite strange that I list Santorini as one of my favorite places. The island has a collection of tourist shops on a hill, the top of which can be reached by riding a mule up the old path, walking the old path, or riding a cable car. It appears to be mostly a tourist trap, especially considering that it was a cruise ship that took us there. I believe it was Miss Schubert who had pointed out that Santorini was so beautiful that even the local Greek people like to vacation there. The island does carry a certain undeniable beauty to it, especially with the glistening of the white buildings along the clifftops of the old port. My enjoying the island came largely as an accident: when several people decided to walk back down the path to the port, I decided to return to a few of the places on the island, but instead of following the west path that we had previously used, I decided to take the path heading east, figuring I could just as easily climb further up from that direction. I ended up finding an abandoned patio for one of those vista restaurants that sits on the edge of a cliff, offering a panoramic view of the entire islands and the sea surrounding Santorini. My good fortune was further extended because I had arrived at that patio at the exact time the sun was setting, offering a chance for quiet solitude in the presence of one of the most beautiful sunsets I have ever seen. Getting lost in Santorini had become an opportunity for a quiet time to talk with God, which is always a rarity when on a tour with fifty people. It's those moments of overwhelming beauty and peaceful solitude that offer the greatest clarity to me, and it seems as if for a moment, I am closer to God. Perhaps that is at least part of what the Greeks experienced when they built the ancient temples, although God is far more personal than Zeus or Athena ever would have been for the Greeks, so I suppose that their experience would not have been quite as powerful. The historical connection is weak, but it is true that to a certain degree my time on Santorini stands distinct as a unique spiritual experience that I will not again encounter anytime soon.

All of that is the background for my pondering, which perhaps gives you some insight into why I am contrasting the places with my unique encounters. The one counterexample to the notion that little treasures are more important is Istanbul. The heart of Byzantium and the heart of the Ottoman Empire immediately overwhelms you with its power and its beauty. Our trip started with the bus ride from the airport to the hotel, during which we saw the massive walls of Byzantium. Our first official excursion the next morning was cruising the Bosporous, seeing the city that spans two continents. Istanbul is an incomparable experience, and I think it exists in some category beyond the important sites and the small treasures. If Istanbul is counted, then the trip is valuable because of the places I visited, as I doubt much of my own experience is worth anything compared to the great city itself. Outside of Istanbul, though, I would contend that the trip is worthwhile because of my unique encounters with the locations, as the little treasures strongly affected my understanding of Greece and Turkey as a whole.

Finals Week List

My finals week consists of three nightmarish days for which I will be preparing over this weekend.  I plan on crossing out items on the list below as I finish them.

Monday

• American Diplomacy Take-Home Final
• American Diplomacy Paper (12-20 pages)

Tuesday

• Networking Final
• Networking Client Project
• Networking Articles
• Early Modern Europe Take-Home Final
• Early Modern Europe Paper (15 pages)
• Don Rags

Wednesday

• Book Review on Reagan Biography (750 page book, 7 page paper)
• American Presidency In-Class Final

The Reluctant Hero

In The Return of the King, there are three main royalty at the Battle of Pelennor Fields: the king of Gondor, the king of Rohan, and the prince of Dol Amroth. For those who are more familiar with the movies than the books, the last leader will be completely unfamiliar because he only has a minor cameo in the film. In the books, he rides into Minas Tirith before it is attacked, working with his men to help prepare for war as well as rescuing Faramir and his men after their failed attempt to retake Osgiliath. Those who see Imrahil recognize that he has some elven blood in him and is related to the Numenor of olden days, but he somehow is only serving as a lesser figure in the realms of men. Even among the other leaders, he is the only one who does not possess the title of king, instead being only a Prince over a small region. However, he is granted the same respect as the other royalty, and he holds the trust of Gandalf, who gives him control of Minas Tirith when Denethor has gone mad and Theoden has not yet arrived. He plays a significant role in the entire battle for the west, and yet he is still nothing more than a prince.

It strikes me that Prince Imrahil is perhaps the answer to the question of whether it is preferable to seek ways of using one's abilities for good or to stay at home and be good in your local life. He serves well in Dol Amroth, becoming an excellent leader while receiving little recognition for his reign beyond the few who know him. He is never mentioned as leaving Dol Amroth except when he is summoned by Denethor for the defense of Gondor at Minas Tirith. He maintains the house of Dol Amroth well, and yet he is willing to sacrifice his work there for the good of all men, whatever his cost may be. He does not seek great recognition, and yet he is granted that by Denethor when he is summoned and by the other leaders in the battle, as well as being recognized as one of the three royalty present at the crowning of Aragorn. He is a great ruler of Dol Amroth, and this leads to him being a great ruler of men.

The pursuit of the good seems difficult in any higher position than his. Greater recognition granted to such kings as Aragorn or Theoden creates a stronger burden in their responsibilities, and the enormous pressure of high positions seems to detract from the ability to enjoy home or to even have a place so called. The best example of this is probably Frodo's leaving Middle Earth after destroying the ring; his home is no longer the Shire, even if that is where he originated, as his powerful position has placed him beyond being able to call that home. Accomplishing that much good is noble, and yet it seems highly undesirable because of the consequences to home. Just like many others, I do desire to be that one person who can destroy the ring, and I do desire to be that great king that defeats evil and restore peaceful times to all mankind; yet I still feel the pull of that desire for a Dol Amroth to which I can return when goodness is accomplished and all is well.

Perhaps that is what is meant by the idea of the reluctant leader. Many find it difficult to believe that great men of our own history, such as George Washington, were truly reluctant to accept the power entrusted to them. The desire for home probably resonated strongly with him, especially with how fond he was of his time in Mount Vernon and how often he had been away from it serving in wars and in various legislative roles. It is easy to believe that all men seek great power, especially since power holds a strong appeal to a wide array of people. However, few people consider the consequences that are attached, and only the good men who achieve such power truly know the longing for home that accompanies those positions.

In sessions of Heroes & Saviors, it has been noted that most Torrey alum prefer remaining at home to using their great abilities.  They are choosing to remain in their Dol Amroth and never actually ride to Minas Tirith for battle; the desire for home overwhelms them, incapacitating their ability to work for the good. Perhaps that is a harsh perspective, but it seems that the simple life at home is irresponsible for those that can accomplish greater good. We ought to pursue the good, serving God to the greatest extent of our abilities, as He has entrusted us with skills so that we can extend His goodness to all men.

Success!

I just received an e-mail informing me that my paper was accepted to the Phi Alpha Theta regional conference!

For those of you who have no idea what I am talking about: Phi Alpha Theta is the international history honors society. In the U.S., they have annual regional conferences in different states (or in our case, one in Nor Cal and one in So Cal) and a biennial national conference, these conferences mostly consisting of students presenting their papers and faculty commenting on those papers. This year, Cal State Northridge is hosting the So Cal conference, and they have accepted my paper as one of those being presented at the conference.

The fun part is that I have absolutely no idea how the whole process works. Apparently, similarly themed papers are placed on panels together at this conference. Here's hoping that Renaissance history is not the 9am panel!

Action & Contemplation

"It's not who you are underneath; it's what you do that defines you."

Is identity an internal or external characteristic?  Perhaps that is an improper question, but it seems to be what the writers of Batman Begins implied with that quotation.  I do not think that actions can define a person, though, as actions are supposed to be determined by the direction of the soul, which is internal in some sense of the word.  Actions that do not align with "who you are underneath" do not offer a better definition of your character; they announce your incontinence.  That is the fundamental problem with the character of Batman: he has no identity underneath, as Bruce Wayne barely exists thanks to the constant action of his alter ego.  The newer movie, Batman Begins, attempts to fix Batman by making him Bruce Wayne's way of saving the city, allowing him to be the active man at night while being the more relaxed, contemplative billionaire during the day.  When the story of Batman leaves him as a character fighting criminals to avenge the death of his parents, it creates an empty shell of a man because he has no purpose or final cause driving his actions.  The active man must have that contemplative side with a goal or he is nothing more than a meaningless machine.

The distinction between the active and contemplative man appears to be false, then, in the claim that both are necessary.  However, the categories are more based on inclination than on sole capabilities, as a person must both think and act in order to live well.  At a university such as Biola, the fear is often of becoming too contemplative and not acting on those thoughts, which is a valid concern.  For those pursuing action, Batman serves as a warning to us that we must not act merely for the sake of action.  Even though who you are is established "underneath," that identity does not define you for the people with whom you interact.  Action is both a distinct representation of self as well as a method of accomplishing a goal.  Batman wants to stop crime, and that is a worthy goal, but it holds no merit until it is incorporated into the identity of Bruce Wayne, the man who wants to save Gotham from destruction.  If Bruce Wayne did not want to save Gotham, then Batman's fighting crime would not be a laudable action, as it would be a false representation of Bruce Wayne.  Furthermore, it seems that direction can only be truly granted from some basis in identity, which is why fighting crime is not really a goal in the same sense that saving Gotham is.

It seems, then, that contemplation helps establish an identity while action turns that identity into something valuable for the rest of society.  Pascal warns us that action can be turned into a tool to distract us from facing ourselves rather than being used as a servant of our identity.  The man that does not know himself cannot accomplish good actions, as his actions are harming him and falsely defining him to the world, regardless of what they may achieve otherwise.  Self-knowledge is key to great actions, as without a contemplative foundation, the vengeful vigilante can never become a true hero, and man can never save the city, as he attempting to define what he does not understand.