‘Respect for the word’

     
I get the feeling there isn’t a book by Owen Barfield that isn’t thoroughly lovable for the way they smoothly hum with the electricity of learning. His History in English Words unlocks the system of the world that is language, its structures and its evolutions. Barfield, the reluctant lawyer, passionate professor, Inkling, and Anthroposophist, published the book in 1953.

This book’s foreward, written by none other than W.H. Auden, begins:

Many who write about ‘linguistics’ go astray because they overlook the fundamental fact that we use words for two quite different purposes: as a code of communication whereby, as individual members of the human race, we can request and supply information necessary to life; and as Speech in the true sense, the medium in which, as unique persons who think in the first and second person singular, we gratuitously disclose ourselves to each other and share our experiences. Though no human utterance is either a pure code statement or a pure personal act, the difference is obvious if we compare a phrase-book for tourists traveling abroad with a poem. The former is concerned with needs common to all human beings, hence, for the phrases given, there exist more or less exact equivalents in all languages. No poem, on the other hand, can be even approximately translated into any other language. A poet, one might say, is someone who tries to give an experience its Proper Name, and it is a characteristic of Proper Names that they cannot be translated, only transliterated.


The foreward moves forward brilliantly for five more pages and concludes with a quotation from Dag Hammarskjöld:

Respect for the word is the first commandment in the discipline by which a man can be educated to maturity—intellectual, emotional, and moral.

Respect for the word—to employ it with scrupulous care and an incorruptible heartfelt love of truth—is essential if there is to be any growth in a society or in the human race.

To misuse the word is to show contempt for man. It undermines the bridges and poisons the wells. It causes Man to regress down the long path of his evolution.

(Hammarskjöld, of course, was secretary general of the United Nations from 1953 until his death in a plane crash in 1961. Freemasons, among others, should appreciate him for, among other things, creating the Meditation Room inside the UN headquarters in New York City. Hopefully the room is open again, having been off limits in recent years due to construction nearby.)

We know Freemasonry communicates very special meanings with certain impressive words. Just as Auden says, these terms are employed to “request and supply information necessary to life,” and they permit us to “disclose ourselves to each other and share our experiences.”

Deep into History in English Words, Barfield unpacks vocabulary important to Freemasons.

We have adopted from Latin the word initiate, which meant ‘to admit a person to these Mysteries,’ and the importance attached to secrecy is shown by the fact that ‘muein,’ the Greek for ‘to initiate,’ meant originally ‘to keep silent.’ From it, the substantive ‘mu-sterion’ was developed, thence the Latin ‘mysterium,’ and so the English word. The secrets of the Greek Mysteries were guarded so jealously and under such heavy penalties that we still know very little about them. All we can say is that the two principal ideas attaching to them in contemporary minds were, firstly, that they revealed in some way the inner meaning of external appearances, and secondly, that the ‘initiate’ attained immortality in a sense different from that of the uninitiated. The ceremony he went through symbolized dying in order to be ‘born again,’ and when it was over, he believed that the mortal part of his soul had died, and that what had risen again was immortal and eternal.


And later:


Let us try to trace the origin of some of the meanings which are commonly attached to the word love. As in the Mysteries, so at the heart of early Greek philosophy lay two fundamental assumptions. One was that an inner meaning lay hid behind external phenomena. Out of this, Plato’s lucid mind brought to the surface of Europe’s consciousness the stupendous conception that all matter is but an imperfect copy of spiritual ‘types’ or ‘ideas’—eternal principles which, so far from being abstractions, are the only real Beings, which were in their place before matter came into existence, and which will remain after it has passed away. The other assumption concerned the attainment by man of immortality. The two were complementary. Just as it was only the immortal part of man which could get into touch with the eternal secret behind the changing forms of Nature, so also it was only by striving to contemplate that eternal that man could develop the eternal part of himself and put on incorruption. There remained the question of how to rise from the contemplation of the transient to the contemplation of the eternal, and, for answer, Plato and Socrates evolved that other great conception—perhaps even more far-reaching in its historical effects—that love for a sensual and temporal object is capable of gradual metamorphosis into love for the invisible and eternal.


From my early years in Freemasonry I encouraged anyone who would listen to use their lodge’s ritual as a map. More than memorize, examine it for content, including using a dictionary to learn the vocabulary that is unfamiliar, at the very least.
     

‘Can Light Be Golden?’

     
I’ve been awake all night (long story) and had the chance to read. I selected Owen Barfield’s novella Night Operation, a science fiction story published in 1975 that, among other things, comments presciently on cultural collapses we are experiencing today. It is a kind of allegory of the cave—clearly it acknowledges Plato’s lesson—as subterranean humans venture toward the light of day to experience what life might be like above ground. It’s a good story, and short enough to read in one sitting, if you’re so inclined. And reclined. Actually, reading Night Operation as dawn approaches enhances the tale’s ambience. Furthermore, to read it during the opening hours of August causes the mind to wander and ponder.

August of the zodiac sign Leo: Leo’s ruling planet is the sun; its element is fire; its color gold. (A slain lion named Cecil so prevalent in the world’s news this week.)

Can light be golden?

Owen Barfield, Anthroposophist extraordinaire, has three characters in Night Operation: Jon, based on himself; Jak, based on his dear friend C.S. Lewis; and Peet, inspired by another close friend and fellow Anthroposophy leader Cecil Harwood. The three young men protagonists endure a hellish existence, but their spiritual longings prompt them to undertake their Night Operation—a determined search for a place of enlightenment in a totally unknown atmosphere above ground. They behold dawn for the first time.

Anyway, the story triggered a memory of this Barfield poem, which I share with you:

CAN LIGHT BE GOLDEN?

Can light be golden? That can never be,

The well-informed assure us, because light

Is what we see by, never what we see.

But are the well-informed, I wonder, right?

Those painters of the old Italian school

Seem almost to condense it into sight.

I doubt if Cimabue was a fool,

Or faked the background, or the aureole.

Perhaps they worked to some more secret rule

That light observes—not light through Newton’s hole

(The force we see by when we are not blind),

But light inbreathed by man’s adoring soul.

Can light be golden? Now recall to mind

That seeding whereof Perseus was the flower:

How sad Acrisius’ daughter was confined

In Argos long ago—the brazen tower—

Then Zeus, the Light of Day, with godlike stride

Descending on it in a Golden Shower,

Breaching its walls to glorify the bride.

Can light be golden? Now the truth comes clear:

It is, when wonder meets it open-eyed—

As I am to the light that streams from her,

When she at last is near, and these old walls

Invading, overwhelms their prisoner:

The light that, condescending, disenthralls!

For now the pagan myth’s inverted: she

(Look up, and see how smilingly it falls!)

The Shower of Gold; I, wondering Danäe.

If you registered for the MRF symposium in Philly, I’ll see you in three weeks. Otherwise, I hope you’re enjoying this incredibly kind summer weather. I will be the guest speaker at Inspiratus Masonic Lodge No. 357 in New Jersey on September 28—presenting again “Come to Your Senses!”—so maybe I’ll see you there.
     

‘Anthroposophy events in NYC’

     
It’s been months since I last attended an event at the Anthroposophical Society of New York City, but I think I’ll be back soon. Here is a little information on two presentations in October, and a bit on some of what’s coming later in the year.

But first, let me share the new hours of the Rudolf Steiner Bookstore:
Sunday-Tuesday: 1 to 5 p.m.
Wednesday and Thursday: 10 a.m. to 5 p.m.
Friday and Saturday: 10 a.m. to 8 p.m.

The New York City Branch of the Anthroposophical Society is located at 138 West 15th Street in Manhattan.

Oh, additionally, let me share this news from the NYC Branch: “Thanks to a generous donation, first time visitors to our lectures are welcome to come as our guests. So, if you haven’t attended before, please come to a lecture, identify yourself as a first-time attendee, and enjoy the talk. If you’ve been before, invite a friend as a first-time guest. And thank you to our thoughtful donor!”

On Friday, October 24, Daniel Hafner will present “The Goetheanum Windows.” From the publicity:

Rudolf Steiner created the Goetheanum as the earthly center of the Free University for the Science of the Spirit. Its windows show experiences on the path of the spirit pupil. (At right, the center panel of the Rose Window in the South.)

Daniel Hafner, a member of the Anthroposophical Society and the School for Spiritual Science, is a priest in the Christian Community and lives in Nuremberg, Germany. He gave five very well received lectures at the recent festival and conference on Rudolf Steiner’s four mystery dramas.

Admission: $20 per person. Time: 7 p.m.


On Thursday, October 30, Owen Barfield will present “Reflections on My Grandfather, Owen A. Barfield.” From the publicity:

Owen Barfield

Owen Barfield (1898-1997) was one of the preeminent Anthroposophists of the 20th century and a well-known thinker from his university days, when he was a founding member of The Inklings—a group that included C.S. Lewis, J.R.R. Tolkien, and Charles Williams. His History in English Words and Poetic Diction are well known to lovers of language. What Coleridge Thought did much to reveal that famous poet’s greatness as a general philosopher, and Barfield’s insights into the evolution of consciousness (see Saving the Appearances: A Study in Idolatry) have met with considerable attention in the United States from the 1960s forward. This evening is a presentation and open conversation with his grandson Owen A. Barfield, his trustee since 2006. Along with Owen A. Barfield’s experience growing up, and how he came to be trustee, it will cover what has happened with the literary estate and what is still to come.

Owen A. Barfield: lives near London and is a practicing oil-painter and healer.

Admission: $20 per person. Time: 7 p.m.


On Saturday, December 20, from 2 to 9 p.m., Lisa Romero will conduct a Solstice Workshop titled “Lust, Lucifer, Abuse: A Challenge from the Spirit in Our Time.”

I can’t believe I’m about to write about the Holy Nights programs—it seems like only yesterday that I was attending last winter’s revelries—but from December 26 through January 5, nightly at seven o’clock, Anthroposophy NYC will host its Festival Celebration titled “The Holy Nights: From the Spirit in the Human Being to the Spirit of the Cosmos.” Last year’s Holy Nights featured lectures, music, food, and festivities, with different topics every evening, and I am only assuming similar variety is being planned for this season. Check back with The Magpie next month for the details.

In conclusion, the art exhibit underway through November at Centerpoint Gallery, inside the NYC Branch, features the work of Lani Kennefick, and is titled “Creative Forces.” Kennefick received a Bachelor of Fine Arts from Rhode Island School of Design in 1983, and an MFA from New York Academy of Art in 2011. She lives in Brooklyn. Check out her work here.