Finished Miracles, at long last. Bathroom reading philosophy is perhaps not the best way to go about it.
In hindsight, it seems more geared for people who aren't me, in that they outright are materialists, or, they believe in miracles, but do not have a developed understanding. I am neither, I never believed they were impossible, but I've had no reason to suspect one has ever happened. The book nudged the needle a little bit in favor, but not enough to categorically change.
In framing _what_ a miracle would be, logically, it makes the concept far more sensible than the simplistic "A metaphysical being (or THE being) violates reality for a moment." He frames the natural as, necessarily, a subset of the supernatural, as is the consistent framework of every peoples' creation stories, our planet and universe emerged from nothing, a primordial chaos, or things of the like. Only modern philosophers contend otherwise. So in that sense, there is no violation, it is a lowering of the higher into its own derivative to insert a non-casual will, which then is immediately entered in the causal flow.
He uses the metaphor of a scribbled black line on a piece of paper. The line is alive, sapient. It's entire life extends from the first spot to the last, and it chooses where it goes on the paper, but is obligated to move forwards. We see its entire life as the single line, beginning to end, where it went, and (for the sake of the metaphor) we're aware of what it prayed to us for as it moved at each point. We do not see it as a point moving through time, only as it's entirety of existence, on the paper. So if it had local peak, and asked us for a red line to accompany it, we could draw a red line parallel for that period. To the sapient line, it would seem as if its wish had been miraculously granted, to us, outside its time and space, we could see the entire life before and after we granted its wish. Nothing has been changed, the line still moves as we always saw it would, but we've inserted ourselves into the line's reality.
I don't completely grasp the implications of that metaphor, because they're all imperfect, and he's implying a great deal that I'm probably not representing well, but it makes for an interesting concept. Lewis later uses this to comment on the efficacy of prayer, how it it's not a matter of making a wish and having the genie grant it, but that you would choose to pray, of your own free will, already known, and the decision whether or not it would be granted, your entire fate, already written into reality. I.e., Because you prayed so fervently for a humble wife, to later meet one in a fortuitous moment was set into motion long before you ever prayed, but it happened because you would. Circular causality or something.
As for specifics miracles, he mostly lost me here, went too deep into the philosophical jungle. If nothing else, he makes a solid case that
if any miracles did occur, then the biblical ones would have the
best claim to validity, for reasons beyond the volume of people who agree with it. Will probably need to read it a few more times, over my life, to fully understand what he's trying to say. But there are many other books I'd like to read now, and several I've started, so I'll be content with being a tiny bit wiser than I was, a fair bit more confused.
SciFlyBoy wrote:And guess what I started? So far it's my 'break book' that I read in my car between batches at work.
I don't know if a 'pilot' is a real thing. I've never heard of one before, not in any of the Horatio Hornblower series I've watched or Master and Commander.
I hope the accuracy of the Japanese 17th century lifestyle is correct. I know the book was written in the 70's but I hope the writer put historical accuracy into the portrayal of these people.
I love the characters so far. Learning about the Daiymo, Samurai, class structure and the value of being polite. I'm really enjoying Game of Thrones in feudal Japan.
Good man!
Of course. It's psuedo-historical, so real events and people are changed a bit, exaggerated, abbreviated. And yes, maritime pilots are a very real thing.
More or less. I've read critiques that complain that the way he portrays samurai would be equivalent to portrayed knights as feverishly loyal to a chivalric code, an ideal thy claimed to represent more than they actually did, but I don't know the validity of the claim. Who does? I do recall being surprised with the incredible eagerness for them to offer to commit seppuku, but I tend to think, on later readings, that it's meant more as a matter of being ritually polite than actually intending to do so, barring a few times. The setting is accurate, but not realistic, is how I'd think of it.
Yep! Great book! Need to get a new copy at some point, mine's in tatters, because I'm about due to speed run the fun parts again!