The Classical Mind Newsletter for January 2025
On Not Setting a Book Goal in 2025; "The Beauties" by Horace Walpole; How to Take Notes; "Frontispiece to Frankenstein"; Rereads
Housekeeping
Our most recent episode on The Communist Manifesto by Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels is out now!
We will be recording our episode on The Castle of Otranto this upcoming week. Apologies for the delay. Wesley is moving which has complicated the recording schedule.
The next book is Love in the Ruins by Walker Percy
Junius has begun a new video series on Medieval battles.
The date for the 2025 Redefining Classics conference organized by recurring Classical Mind guest Dr. Anika Prather is out now! It will be Saturday, May 24, 2025 at Catholic University of America in Washington, DC. Junius and Wesley should both be there.
On Not Setting a Reading Goal in 2025
For years, I’ve set a reading goal on Goodreads. They make it so enticing. You can set the number and track it as you. There’s nothing like the “thatta boy” of being notified you are 20% ahead of your annual reading goal at the end of March. What’s even better is the dopamine hit when you finally reach that x number of books you’ve been inching towards for months. But this year, I’m not participating in a reading challenge and I have three main reasons why.
Reason 1: Gamification of reading negatively impacts our decision calculus of what we should read.
Maybe you’re not like me and set a goal and stick to it in good fun. I happen to be a highly competitive person and if I set a goal, I’m going to either spend all my energy reaching that goal or beat myself up about not reaching it. As a result, if you’re like me, you might be tempted to avoid the challenge of a big book and stick to smaller books as a way of increasing reading efficiency. While there’s nothing inherently wrong with books on the shorter side, length shouldn’t be the determining factor for deciding whether a book is worth reading. I ran into this problem a bit this year as I’ve trudged through what might be
’s best book yet, All Things Are Full of Gods. Between the dense subject matter, extended rhetorical flourishes, and Hart’s colossal vocabulary, I had to slow down and set the book aside for a while. This was not for lack of enjoyment; on the contrary, I enjoy it so much that by setting it aside for a short time, I’m freeing up the mental bandwidth to better engage it in the near future. However, if my main concern was reaching that goal of however many books, I may be inclined to either damn the torpedoes and speed through while failing to retain much of the material. Or, depending on circumstances, I may choose the opposite: to set the book aside permanently because the investment of time isn’t worth the return of only one book towards the quantitative goal. In either case, I would be much worse off. We may tell ourselves that the annual reading challenge won’t impact our decisions, but I know it has impacted mine.Reason 2: Gamification of reading orients us towards the wrong end.
I have nothing against tracking reading. In fact, that can be a helpful habit of recollection. My wife tracks her books using an analog reading journal. For years, I’ve done this digitally using Goodreads. By gamifying our reading we are emphasizing quantity at the expense of quality. “It was a good reading year because I read 50 books!” is a braggadocios way of revealing misplaced priorities (I know because I’ve thought this). It may be that I read 50 books, but were they books worth reading? Were they books that aided me in advancing in virtue? The quality matters significantly more than the quantity. It’s akin to when S. Paul rebukes the Corinthians for speaking in tongues by observing that five intelligible and edifying words are preferable to 10,000 unintelligible words spoken in an unknown language. Who cares if I read 25, 50, or even 100 books if I’m not growing in virtue as a result?
Reason 3: Gamification is disrespectful to the text.
What is reading? I understand it to be a conversation between author and reader. It would be inauthentic at best for anyone to treat a serious in-person conversation with someone as a game. This grievousness would be compounded by the fact that authors engage in an act of vulnerability when they bare their souls through writing. By reading in the framework of a “challenge,” I reduce the text to an “it,” an instrument that is valuable insofar as it pushes me towards my goal of x number of books, rather than a “thou” to be encountered and that will encounter me. Perhaps it’s the fact that books are more accessible to us now than they ever have been, but the act of reading isn’t to be treated so flippantly. By dehumanizing reading, we end up dehumanizing the readers.
It may be that you are embarking on a reading challenge. I don’t feel as though my points here are exhaustive enough to universally eschew reading challenges. I know how I’m wired and based on my experience, I don’t find them edifying for me. It may be that you benefit from them and if that’s you, good luck! Either way, it’s paramount for us to remember that the reading list is for the person, not the person for the reading list.
“The Beauties” by Horace Walpole
When possible, I like to include poems composed by the authors we’re reading for The Classical Mind. Since our next episode is on The Castle of Otranto by Horace Walpole, please enjoy his poetry!
The poem compares the beauty and virtues of British women to the classical ideals of beauty and virtue as expressed in the Renaissance era. He mentions Zeuxis, an artist who was famous for crafting a “composite ideal” of beauty that combined different features from multiple figures to create the “perfect” model; for Walpole, this approach is silly and the result pales in comparison to the beauties in Britain who embody the ideals the Renaissance painters celebrated. However, the poem doesn’t conclude on the note of triumph, highlighting the transient nature of beauty by describing the death of a woman in whom all these qualities were united.
Desponding artist, talk no more Of Beauties of the days of yore, Of Goddesses renown'd in Greece, And Zeuxis' composition-piece, Where every nymph that could at most Some single grace or feature boast, Contributed her favourite charm To perfect the ideal form. 'Twas Cynthia's row, 'twas Lesbia's eye, 'Twas Cloe's cheeks' vermilion dye; Roxana lent the noble air, Dishevell'd flow'd Aspasia's hair, And Cupid much too fondly press'd His mimick mother Thais' breast. Antiquity, how poor thy use! A single Venus to produce! Friend Eckardt, ancient story quit, Nor mind whatever Pliny writ; Felibien and Fresnoy declaim, Who talk of Raphael's matchless fame, Of Titian's tints, Corregio's grace, And Carlo's each Madonna face, As if no Beauties now were made, But Nature had forgot her trade. 'Twas Beauty guided Raphael's line From heavenly Women, styl'd divine; They warm'd old Titian's fancy too, And what he could not taste he drew: Think you Devotion warm'd his breast When Carlo with such looks express'd His virgins, that her vot'ries feel Emotions — not, I'm sure, of zeal? In Britain's isle observe the Fair, And curious chuse your models there; Such patterns as shall raise your name To rival sweet Corregio's fame: Each single piece shall be a test, And Zeuxis' patchwork be a jest; Who ransack'd Greece, and cull'd the age To bring one Goddess on the stage: On your each convass we'll admire The charms of the whole heav'nly choir. Majestick Juno shall be seen In Harvey's glorious aweful mien. Where Fitzroy moves, resplendent Fair; So warm her bloom, sublime her air; Her ebon tresses, form'd to grace, And heighten while they shade her face: Such troops of martial youth around, Who court the hand that gives the wound; 'Tis Pallas, Pallas stands confess'd, Tho Stanshope's more than Paris bless'd. So Cleveland shown in warlike pride, By Lilly's pencil defy'd: So Grafton, matchless dame, commands The fairest work of Kneller's hands: The blood that warm'd each amorous court, In veins as rich still loves to sport: And George's age beholds restor'd, What William boasted, Charles ador'd. For Venuses the Trojan ne'er Was half so puzzled to declare: Ten Queens of Beauty, sure I see! Yet sure the true is Emily: Such majesty of youth and air, Yet modest as the village fair: Attracting all, indulging none, Her beauty like the glorious Sun Thron'd eminently bright above, Impartial warms the world to love. In smiling Capel's beauteous look Rich Autumn's Goddess is mistook, With poppies and with spiky corn, Eckardt, her nut-brown curls adorn; And by her side, in decent line, Place charming Berkley, Proserpine. Mild as a summer sea, serene, In dimpled beauty next be seen, Aylesbury like hoary Neptune's Queen. With her the light-dispensing Fair, Whose beauty gilds the morning air, And bright as her attendant sun, The new Aurora, Lyttelton. Such Guido's pencil beauty-tip'd, And in ethereal colours dip'd. In measur'd dance to tuneful song Drew the sweet Goddess, as along Heaven's azure 'neath their light feet spread, The buxom Hours she fairest led. The crescent on her brow display'd, In curls of loveliest brown inlaid, With every charm to rule the night, Like Dian, Strafford woos the sight; The easy shape, the piercing eye, The snowy bosom's purity, The unaffected gentle phrase Of native wit in all she says; Eckardt, for these thy art's too faint: You may admire, but cannot paint. How Hebe smil'd, what bloom divine On the young Goddess lov'd to shine, From Carpenter we guess, or see All-beauteous Manners beam for thee. How pretty Flora, wanton maid, By Zephyr woo'd in noon-tide shade, With rosy hand coquetly throwing Pansies, beneath her sweet touch blowing; How blithe she look'd let Fanny tell; Let Zephyr own if half so well. Another Goddess of the year, Fair Queen of Summer, see, appear; Her auburn locks with fruitage crown'd, Her panting bosom loosely bound, Ethereal beauty in her face, Rather the beauties of her race, Whence ev'ry Goddess, envy smit, Most own each Stonehouse meets in PITT, Exhausted all the heav'nly train, How many Mortals yet remain, Whose eyes shall try your pencil's art, And in my numbers claim a part! Our sister Muses must describe Chudleigh, or name her of the tribe; And Juliana with the Nine Shall aid the melancholy line, To weep her dear Resemblance gone, Where all these beauties met in One. Sad fate of beauty! more I see, Afflicted, lovely family! Two beauteous Nymphs, here, Painter, place, Lamenting o'er their sister Grace; One, matron-like, with sober grief, Scarce gives her pious sighs relief; Whiley other lovely Maid appears In all the melting pow'r of tears; The softest form, the gentlest grace, The sweetest harmony of face; Her snowy limbs, and artless move Contending with the Queen of Love, While bashful Beauty shuns the prize, Which Emily might yield to Evelyn's eyes.
How to Take Notes
Over at
’s Substack he has written two pretty helpful articles on how to process thoughts and information in a useful and human way. He gives us five tips:Keep reading with a 7-day free trial
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