This week we are discussing the first chapter of Poetic Knowledge: The Recovery of Education by James Taylor.
I came across this whole idea of “Poetic Knowledge” by accident in my 20’s, but that wasn’t what I called it. There were several books, two of them were cookbooks, that kind of got me to thinking about what it is we are trying to do and why we are trying to do it. When I finally did pick up Taylor’s book, it was only a confirmation of the things I had been internalizing the 7 years prior.
In order to sum up what Taylor introduces in the book is what many have called the “Pursuit of the Good, the True and the Beautiful.” One of the things I discovered from reading “A History of Education in Antiquity” http://www.amazon.com/History-Education-Antiquity-Wisconsin-Classics/dp/0299088146 was that that for much of the last 3000 years the purpose of education was not so that a person could get a good job, but rather to form a particular kind of person. I do not agree that the purpose of education is to pass along information. I also believe that I am attempt to form the a certain kind of person. A phrase I picked up long ago and that has stuck with me is that I am raising a child with a “fat soul.”
In the past 20 years or so I have been thinking about this phrase our culture is apt to throw around without grasping the implications of what it means. That phrase is: “It works.” My thought has been to ask “Works for what?” To what end is this thing working. Ritalin works. “Works for what?” This math program works. “Works for what?” Antibiotics work. “Work for what?” For many of us, we don’t have a clearly defined end goal so we don’t know to even ask the right questions. For many years I felt like I was fumbling around in a dark room, trying lead my son. The blind leading the naked… We are such utilitarians and pragmatists. For most people the bottom line is, “Does it work?” and “How much does it cost?”
One of my long term goals was not just to get a child who grasped a high standard of knowledge, a child who knows facts and things, but also a lover of those things. I don’t want a child who can just add and subtract, I want a child who loves and adores numbers. I don’t want just a child who can decode words, but a child who loves and adores them and the way they roll off the tongue. That requires a certain kind of knowing and a certain kind of education. I was never very successful the first time around in the math department. I am not so unfortunate that he is “bored” by math. However, our math experience still causes me to wince. I am sold on this idea of Poetic Knowledge, though I don’t know that it is the “term” we must use describe this way of knowing the world. But it is a helpful term none-the-less.
The following is a long quote from my favorite rebel clergyman and theologian, Robert Capon. I recommend to you all of his books, but my favorite are: “The Supper of the Lamb”, “An Offering of Uncles”, and his books on the parables. The quote comes from his cookbook, “The Supper of the Lamb”:
[b]I am an amateur. If that strikes you as disappointing, consider how much in error you are, and how the error is entirely of your own deciding. At its root lies an objection to cookbooks written by non-professionals (an objection, by the way, which I consider perfectly valid, and congratulate you upon). It does not, however, apply here. Amateur and nonprofessional are not synonyms. The world may or may not need another cookbook, but it needs all the lovers – amateurs – it can get. It is a gorgeous old place, full of clownish graces and beautiful drolleries, and it has enough textures, tastes and smells to keep us intrigued for more time than we have. Unfortunately, however, our response to its loveliness is not always delight: It is, far more often than it should be, boredom. And that is not only odd, it is tragic; for boredom is not neutral - it is the fertilizing principle of unloveliness…
A man’s real work is to look at the things of the world and to love them for what they are. That is, after all, what God does, and man was not made in God’s image for nothing. The fruits of his attention can me seen in all the arts, crafts, and sciences. It can cost him time and effort, but it pays handsomely. If an hour can be spent looking at one onion, think how much regarding it took on the part of that old Russian who looked at onions and church spires long enough to come up with St. Basil’s Cathedral. Or how much curious and loving attention was expended by the first man who looked hard enough at the insides of trees, the entrails of cats, and the hind ends of horses and the juice of pine trees to realize he could turn them all into the first fiddle. No doubt his wife urged him to get up and do something useful. I am sure that he was a stalwart enough lover of things to pay no attention at all to her nagging; but how wonderful it would have been if he had know what we know now about his dawdling. He could have silenced her with the greatest riposte of all time: Don’t bother me, I am creating the possibility of the Bach unaccompanied sonatas.
But if a man’s attention is repaid so handsomely, his inattention costs him dearly. Every time he diagrams something instead of looking at it, every time he regards not what a thing is, but what it can be made to mean to him - every time he substitutes a conceit for a fact - he gets grease all over the kitchen of the world. Reality slips away from him; and he is left with the oldest monstrosity in the world: an idol. Things must be met for themselves…
One real thing is closer to God than all the diagrams in the world."[/b]
But to stare at it and not know what you are looking for is not up my alley either.
After reading the first pages and first chapter I realize my background is lacking a lot :laugh: I wasn’t much attracted to philosophies in adolescence. The years went by, I became a mom wanting to homeschool and I am looking at what I want for my children and why I want to teach them and how. I love the discussion because it touches the core of my questions regarding educating them: what do I want to raise? Definitely not machines able to remember and deliver information. It seems what I want more has to do with “poetic knowledge” and “fat soul”. Still I can hardly wait to understand what those two really mean and how they apply or can be applied in our lives. Truly, you can’t read the book fast, you need time to ‘chew’ the information. I couldn’t get beyond chapter one today.
It is interesting and challenging and nothing I have ever been exposed to, so, I shall just keep reading…