Bøker av James V. Schall

"The Latin word "Docilitas" in the title of this book means the willingness and capacity we have of being able to learn something we did not know. It has not the same connotation as "learning," which is what happens to us when we are taught something. Docility also means our recognition that we do not know many things, that we need the help of others, wiser than we are, to learn most of what we know, though we can discover a few things by or own experience. This book contains some sixteen chapters, each of which was given to an audience in some college or university setting. They consider what it is to teach, what to read, reading places, libraries, and class rooms. They look upon the duties of a teacher or professor as mostly a delight, because the truth should delight us. In Another Sort of Learning, the subject of what a student "owes" his teacher came up. Here, we look at the other side of the question, what does a teacher or professor "do"? But a professor cannot teach unless there is someone willing to be taught, someone willing to recognize that he needs guidance and help. Yet, the end of teaching is not just the "transfer" of what is in the mind of the professor to the mind of the student. It is when both, student and teacher, behold, reflect on, and see the same truth of things that are. This common "seeing" is the read adventure in which student and teacher share something neither "owns." Knowledge and truth are free, but each requires our different insights and approaches so that we can finally realize what "teaching" and "being taught" mean to us"--

"What is real and what is noble, as well as what is deranged and wrong, can often be stated briefly. Nietzsche was famous for his succinct aphorisms and epigrams. Aquinas in one of his responses could manage to state clearly what he held to be true. Ultimately, all of our thought needs to be so refined and concentrated that we can see the point. So these are "brief" essays and they are largely of a philosophical "hue." They touch on things worth thinking about. Indeed, often they consider things we really need to think about if our lives are to make sense. The advantage of a collection of essays is that it is free to talk about many things. It can speak of them in a learned way or in an amused and humorous way. As Chesterton said, there is no necessary conflict between what is true and what is funny. Oftentimes, the greatest things we learn are through laughter, even laughter at ourselves and our own foibles and faults. So these essays are "brief." And they are largely of philosophical import. At first sight, taxing beer may seem to have no serious principle, except perhaps for the brewer and the consumer. But wherever there is reality, we can find something to learn. Each of these essays begins with the proposition "on"--this is a classical form of essay in the English language. Belloc, one the essay's greatest masters, wrote a book simply entitled "ON"--and several other books with that introductory "ON" to begin it. The word has the advantage of focusing our attention on some idea, place, book, person, or reality that we happen to come across and notice, then notice again, then wonder about"--

We have books that contain collected essays, verse, and humor. What we see less often are books that contain collected interviews on various topics. Interviews have a certain outside discipline about them. The one interviewed responds to a question someone else asks of him. Often the questions are unexpected, sometimes annoying. Answers have a freshness to them. They can be more personal, frank. The responses in At a Breezy Time of Day are occasioned when someone writes or phones with a request for an interview. There may be a common theme but often side questions come up. We are curious about what someone has to say - about sports, about God, about Plato, about education, about books, about just about anything. Usually central questions occur. The same question can be answered in different ways. We often have more to say on a given topic than we do say on our first being asked about it. These interviews appeared in various on-line and printed sources. Having them collected in one text makes the interview form itself seem more substantial. Interviews too often seem to be passing, ephemeral things, but often we want to hold on to them. There is something more existential about them. Yet there is also something more lightsome about them also. The truth of things seems more bearable when it is spoken, when it has a human voice. So, as the title of this collection intimates, we begin with the very first interview in the Garden of Eden. We touch many places and issues. The interview always has somewhere even in its written form the touch of the human voice. The one who interviews invites us to speak, to tell us what we hold, why we hold it. Interviews are themselves part of that engagement in conversation that defines our kind in its search for a full knowledge of what is. We know that when we have said the last word, much remains to be said. We can rejoice both in what we know, and in what we know that we do not know. I believe it was Socrates who, in an earlier form of interview at the end of The Apology, alerted us to be aware of what we know and to await the many other interviews that we hope to carry on with so many others of our kind in the Isles of the Blessed.

This volume arises from a tradition of realism, both philosophical and political, a universe in which the common sense understanding of things is included in our judgement about them. The scope is both vast and narrow - vast because it is aware of the reality of things, narrow because it is the individual person who can and wants to know them.

The engaging and inquiring mind of French philosopher Jacques Maritain reflected on varied subjects arising from his diverse studies. In this book, James Schall explores Maritain's political philosophy.