A NEW YEAR BEGINS.

Here is a photograph, taken at dawn, at Kelly's Beach, Bargara, near Bundaberg, late in 2007. It seems an appropriate photo to post as we launch into a new year.

HAVE YOUNG PEOPLE CHANGED ?

WRITING ABOUT TRANSCENDENCE

When I was teaching Year 11 General Studies at Carey in 1969, I asked the boys to write some statements about their experiences of God. The particular question was

“Has God ever seemed real to you. If so, when?”

Here are some of the responses of Year 11 students about 35 years ago.

Perhaps on the odd occasion when a prayer has been answered.

In any time of joy, and when I see someone who is close to me enjoy life and be really happy. Other times when sadness has struck the family, God seems really close.

No.

When I do something bad that is very wrong. I say to myself “god help me” and after a while you stop thinking about things you have done wrong and try and start fresh again.

God has never seemed real to me. I am an atheist.

Never.

Once when we were returning from surfing we were travelling home along a beach road. Not many people were around and all the kids in the car were talking etc. I looked out the car window and saw the sun glistening on the last dying waves of the day. It was one of the most beautiful things I have seen to look at although before the sun started to radiate it was just a normal beach. I then realised that maybe life can be made to be really enjoyable. An inside enjoyment. This scene and the day refreshed and cleansed my bodies of the worry of exams etc. If I pass my exams I think it will be because of this.

Yes, at large rallies, quite often.

No

Only when I was very young and forced to go to Sunday School but as I grew older I didn’t need this fantasy. Now whenever I think I am doing things under the influence of another person it is not God but another person who I know and get on with well.

No. Not the Christian God or any other deity.

Yes. God has seemed real to me.

No.

So here is a range of answers , showing different levels of experience and insight. Some of those who said “No” were thoughtful students who were responding to my request for honesty. One boy, who wrote that he was an atheist, wrote at the end of the whole questionnaire,

You asked for honesty, Mr Nicoll, I hope what I have said has not offended you or the staff, but I feel very strongly about these matters.

I am relieved to think he did feel free to answer my request for honesty with his authentic feelings and thoughts.


Mac Nicoll

IN THE DOMED READING ROOM

IN THE DOMED READING ROOM


In 1888, my grandfather, Martin Bottoms , came to Melbourne from Eaglehawk to begin his career in the Public Service. He was 17 years of age and he boarded in Carlton. In his Reminiscences, he tells of his visits to the Public Library.

He became so interested in the works of Samuel Johnson and Oliver Goldsmith that he used to go after tea of an evening to the Public Library and look up the magazines in which Johnson and Goldsmith were published, magazines like The Idler, The Tatler and The Gentleman’s Magazine. He recalled

“I seemed to feel that I was living in the times of these writers. Many a time I was so engrossed in reading these old magazines that I would be startled by the Library bell and the peremptory call, ‘All out! All out!’
At the same time, some of the old men who were sleeping in the alcoves they had in there would be forced to go out in the streets. I should mention that at the entrance of one of the corridors there was a small marble image of Shakespeare leaning over a table, containing an extract from "The Tempest.” I did not possess a copy of Shakespeare’s plays, but I was so struck by the words on the tablet that I copied them in the little book note-book that I used for noting quotations. Here is the quotation
The cloud-capped towers
The gorgeous palaces
The solemn temples
The great globe itself
Yea, all which it inherit,
Shall dissolve,
And like this insubstantial pageant faded,
Leave not a rack behind.”


In the renewed Reading Room at the State Library of Victoria there are a number of statements about reading that have been engraved on stone above the shelves. These statements run around the whole circumference of the Room. Here they are:

NO PLACE CAN BE CHOSEN MORE LIKELY TO AROUSE AND EXALT SUCH FEELINGS THAN THIS APARTMENT, REARED IN HONOR OF LITERATURE
REDMOND BARRY

LIBRARIES ARE RESERVOIRS OF STRENGTH, GRACE AND WIT, REMINDERS OF ORDER, CALM AND CONTINUITY, LAKES OF MENTAL ENERGY
GERMAINE GREER


BOOKS ARE THE TREASURED WEALTH OF THE WORLD AND THE INHERITANCE OF GENERATIONS AND NATIONS
HENRY DAVID THOREAU


THE CHIEF GLORY OF EVERY NATION ARISES FROM ITS AUTHORS
SAMUEL JOHNSON


A PUBLIC LIBRARY IS THE MOST DEMOCRATIC THING IN THE WORLD
DORIS LESSING


NO TWO PEOPLE READ THE SAME BOOK
EDMUND WILSON


THE TRUE UNIVERSITY OF THESE DAYS IS A COLLECTION OF BOOKS
THOMAS CARYLE


WIDE AND INDEPENDENT READING…SELF-EDUCATION IS WHAT MATTERS
PATRICK WHITE


THE READING OF ALL GOOD BOOKS IS LIKE A CONVERSATION WITH THE FINEST MEN OF PAST CENTURIES
RENE DESCARTES

THE WORD IS THE MAKING OF THE WORLD
WALLACE STEVENS
YOU CAN MAKE INITIAL CONTACT WITH SOMEONE WHO DOES NOT SPEAK YOUR LANGUAGE WITH SIGNS OR SMILES, BUT TO COMMUNICATE YOU NEED WORDS. SO IT IS WITH A NATION; TO UNDERSTAND IT YOU HAVE TO READ BOOKS
GEOFFREY DUTTON


A PERSON CANNOT CONTRIBUTE TO HUMANITY WITHOUT KNOWLEDGE…ONLY A PERSON WITH A FREE SOUL, A PERSON WHO HAS NO USE FOR FEAR, CAN CONTRIBUTE TO THE WORLS’S BETTERMENT
PRAMEEDYA ANANTATOER


NOBODY HAS THE LAST WORD
BRENDA WALKER


STORIES ARE THE WAY TO MAKE YOU FEEL YOU BELONG
BOORI MONTY PRYOR


THE DOME AND ITS ASCENDING GALLERIES SEEMED LIKE A GIANT BRAIN VAULTING TOARDS THE HEAVENS
ARNOLD ZABLE



BOOKS, THE CHILDREN OF THE BRAIN
JONATHAN SWIFT


ONE READS IN ORDER TO ASK QUESTIONS
FRANZ KAFKA


BOOKS ARE THE THREADS FROM WHICH THE FABRIC OF
OUR CULURE AND CIVILIZAION ARE WOVEN
RICHARD CLEMENT



A STUDY LAMP, A DESK MAKE TWO OLD FRIENDS…
REJOICE – THE ANCIENT SPIRIRT THRIVES AGAIN. FOR THOSE WHO READ A WORD OR TWO THERE’S HOPE
NGUYEN TRAI


THE STUDIOUS SILENCE OF THE LIBRARY…TRANQUIL BRIGHTNESS
JAMES JOYCE


TO SLIDE INTO THE DOMED READING ROOM AT TEN EACH MORNING SPECIALLY IN SUMMER OFF THE HOT STREET OUTSIDE WAS A SENSATION AS DELICIOUS AS DROPPING INTO THE WATER OFF THE CONCRETE EDGE OF THE FIZROY BATHS
HELEN GARNER


BUT WORDS ARE THINGS AND A SMALL DROP OF INK FALLING LIKE DEW UPON A THOUGHT PRODUCES THAT WHICH MAKES THOUSANDS, PERHAPS MILLIONS, THINK
LORD BYRON


COME AND TAKE CHOICE OF ALL MY LIBRARY AND SO BEGUILE THY SORROW
WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE


BOOKS ARE THE PLANE, AND THE TRAIN, AND THE ROAD. THEY ARE DESTINATION, AND THE JOURNEY
ANNA QUINDLEN


LET’S SAVE OLD BOOKS AND STUDY THEM WITH CARE
PHUNG KHAC KHOAN


READ IN ORDER TO LIVE
GUSTAVE FLAUBERT


WORDS ON THE PAGE ARE NEVER PRISONERS OF THE PAGE
SONYA HARTNETT


WRITERS SPEAK FOR THOSE WHO ARE KEPT IN SILENCE ISABEL ALLENDE


A REAL BOOK IS NOT ONE THAT’S READ BUT ONE THAT READS US
W.H.AUDEN


BLESSED ARE THOSE WHO ARE PRIVILEGED TO READ WHAT THEY LIKE
DOROTHY GREEN


BOOKS CAN WARM THE HEART WITH FRIENDLY WORDS AND COUNSEL, ENTERING INTO A CLOSE RELATIONSHIP WITH US WHICH IS ARTICULATE ANE ALIVE
FRANCESCO PETRARCH



ONE MUST BE AN INVENTOR TO READ WELL
RALPH WALDO EMERSON


THE PUBLIC LIBRRY IS AT ONCE THE PRODUCT OF DEMOCRACY AND A SIGN OF FAITH IN UNIVERSAL EDUCATION AS A LIFE-LONG PROCESS
IRVING BENSON


DREAMS, BOOKS, ARE EACH A WORLD; AND BOOKS, WE KNOW, ARE A SUBSTANTIAL WORLD, BOTH PURE AND GOOD
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH

I, WHO HAD ALWAYS THOUGHT OF PARADISE IN FORM AND IMAGE AS A LIBRARY
JORGE LUIS BORGES

THERE IS NO FRIGATE LIKE A BOOK TO TAKE US LANDS AWAY, NOR ANY COURSERS LIKE A PAGE OF PRANCING POETRY
EMILY DICKINSON

The pleasure of reading

This is the time to be reading and planning to read more.

It bothers me that some people condemn reading as an escape. Of course it is, and what a marvellous escape,what a wonderful way to leave one's present reality and to return refreshed, entertained, challenged and even inspired.

Over the years I have collected a few comments about readuing. Here are a few of them.

QUOTES RE BOOKS AND READING

THE VALUE OF READING!

“Reading a book is like rewriting it for yourself. You bring to anything you read all your experience of the world. You bring your history and you read it in your own terms.”
Angela Carter, 20th Century

“Reading is to the mind what exercise is to the body”
Steele, 18th Century


“If you believe everything you read, better not read.”
Japanese proverb

“I too read in bed. In the long succession of beds in which I spent the nights of my childhood, the combination of bed and book granted me a sort of home which I knew I could go back to, night after night, under whichever skies.”
Alberto Mangerol: A history of reading.


IN PRAISE OF BOOKS -
'Unto my books so good to turn
For end of tired days.'
Emily Dickinson



I love reading books on holidays. I love reading books on ordinary days, not least at the end of tired days.
James Ledingham



'There is no frigate like a book
to take us lands away
Nor any coursers like a page
of prancing poetry.
This traverse may the poorest take
Without oppress of toll
How frugal is the chariot
That bears a human soul.'
[Emily Dickinson]



OF BOOKS AND WRITING

“This writing of books is an endless matter” (Knox)
“of making many books there is no end” (RSV)
“the use of books is endless” (N.E.B.)


Whatever Ecclesiastes 12:12 means it certainly draws our attention to books, whether it be the writing, the making or the using of them



OF BOOKS AND READING

What a Christmas present! Margaret gave me the Oxford Dictionary of Literary Quotations, edited by Peter Kemp. This is a wonderful collection, divided into topics and writers.

Here are a few extracts from the section on READING

“I have sought for happiness everywhere, but I have found it nowhere except in a little corner with a little book”.
(Thomas àKempis, 14th century)

POLONIUS: “What do you read, my Lord?”
HAMLET: “Words, words, words.”
(Shakespeare, 16-17th centuries)

“Read in order to live”
(Flaubert, 19th century)

“It is absurd to have a hard and fast rule about what one should read and what one shouldn’t. More than half of modern culture depends on what one shouldn’t read”.
(Oscar Wilde, 19th century)
Choose an author as you choose a friend.
(Wentworth Dillon, 17th century)

People say that life is the thing, but I prefer reading.
[Logan Pearsall Smith]



IN PRAISE OF LITERATURE

Literature is the one place in any society where, within the secrecy of our own heads, we can hear voices talking about everything in every possible way.
Salman Rushdie

Literature is the art of writing something that will be read twice; journalism what will be read once. Cyril Connolly


FROM THE WRITERS’ FESTIVAL

Margaret and I spent an engaging Friday and Saturday at the Melbourne Writers’ Festival recently. With questions about the nature of truth still prominent in my mind, I was struck by some comments by Barry Lopez, and Paul Davies, including

“Most of us know the truth, but we forget. We encounter it in a story and we recognize it.”

“Writers try to create a pattern you enter into and say ‘This feels like the truth to me.’”
Barry Lopez


“A young man who wishes to remain a sound Atheist cannot be too careful of his reading…………There are traps everywhere. God is, if I may say it, very unscrupulous.”

C.S. Lewis


In a future blog I will list some ot the books I have been reading in the last year.

PAINTINGS OF OVERSEAS PLACES

These paintings are based on photographs taken in Italy and France

LANDSCAPE PAINTINGS BY MARGARET NICOLL

As we approach the New Year, here is a new posting of a number of Margaret's landscape paintings of recent years.

FOR SCHOOL TEACHERS ONLY

IT’S ME OR HIM



“See me after class, please, Darren,” said the teacher, frustrated by his
erring student’s unwillingness to carry out his requests for the last ten
minutes.

“Why?” retorted Darren, his wiry body bristling with aggressive
defiance.

“Because I asked you to.”

Before the looming confrontation could be consummated, the school
bell began its final blast for the day and soon the corridors were
thronging with inner-city adolescents shouting and bumping their way
to freedom.

In room Twenty One two people remained, different in age, in
physique and in temperament, but alike in their fear that the coming
minutes would be painful and that there would be consequences. In
battle terminology, they both wanted and needed a win.

“I gotta get home. I can’t stay long.”

“O.K. I hope we’re not too long, because I’ve got things to do too,
Darren, but we’ve got to see how we can help you to keep up with your work.”

This was a deliberately gentle start from the teacher who was a bundle
of contradictory emotions as he tackled this interview, standing at the
blackboard and trying to look relaxed and to sound pastoral. His
heart was pumping with a strange mixture of surprise, fear and compassion .

Surprise, because Darren had actually remained; fear, because he had seen Darren explode before; compassion, because he was aware of some of the problems that Darren brought into the school with him.

“I’ve gotta get home… and you’re not allowed to keep me.”

“I’ll keep you as long as we need. Just settle down and finish your
work and then we can talk about what happens next. You know I’ve
talked to your Mum and you know she wants you to have some success at school. Just sit down and finish copying that map and then you can go. It’ll only take a couple of minutes if you get stuck into it.”

“I’m not doing that now. I’ve gotta meet me friends and they’re
waiting for me.”

The teacher had faced lots of these typical moves from wayward
students who could not countenance staying back, particularly on a
Friday afternoon. He persevered, aware that his body was becoming
more tense by the moment and that his voice was becoming softer in
inverse proportion to his anger.

Again, with a crestfallen look on his face and a “more in sorrow than in anger voice” the teacher asked, “Just finish off that map and then you can go.”

If only he could understand what was going on in that youngster,
whose eyes were narrowing, whose normally pasty colouring was
rapidly turning a bright shade of red and whose pursed lips looked
ready to snap open and bite.
Again, the soft response.

Somehow this seemed to aggravate the situation and Darren turned to
his desk, snatched up his folders - he never brought a bag to school - and looked as if he was going to flee.

“Darren, getting angry’s not going to help. If you go now, you won’t be allowed back next week and then your mother will be upset. Let’s work out why you’re messing round so much and ruining your chances.”

“It’s none of your business. I’ll do what I like and you’re not going to
stop me.”

There was a long pause while the combatants glared at one another,
both victims and yet both strangely powerful.

In the teacher’s mind, the last few months flashed by in a mini-second. Darren was one of the most frightened and angry students he had ever encountered, with a desperate need to keep adults at a distance and to play up to his peer group. Earlier in the year the school had arranged for him to attend a special small school where some gifted staff had built a relationship with him and helped him gain some self-respect on the way back to normality. The teacher had visited the home, had a profitable discussion with Darren’s mother and older brother and his return last month had been accompanied by some real hope for a better term than last year. Now this…and a sinking feeling of déjà vu and another failure.

Who was winning?

By now, they had been in the classroom for ten minutes, so the teacher had succeeded in keeping Darren against his will. What sort of success was that?

Darren was still frustrated and he had still not finished the assigned
task - filling in a few cities on a map of India.

Once more the request was made, quietly and persistently. “Come on,
Darren just finish off that map and then you’ll be free to go.”
What happened next remained embedded in the teacher’s memory for
life. He often wondered whether he had provoked the outburst by the
very deliberately quiet manner in which he had addressed his combatant.

With a sudden lunge, Darren leapt to the blackboard and slammed his clenched fist against it with all the accumulated anger he had been nursing. The sound echoed around the silent corridors along which he strode towards freedom from the oppression of the afternoon.

A winner?





Mac Nicoll

ART AND FAITH AND INTEGRITY

ART, C.S.LEWIS AND SOME REFLECTIONS



Thirty years ago I loved reading the Narnia stories to our daughters and I gained some profound insights about life as a result. I recently saw the current Disney film and was once again deeply moved by the account of Aslan’s death and resurrection.
Why then am I so disturbed by the way in which some Christians overseas are using the film as a tool for evangelism, preparing study material to explicitly link this superb fantasy with the Christian faith?
I suspect it’s something to do with the authentic role of the artist in the culture. I have a brother-in-law and a wife who are both artists and Christians. While their work is an expression of who they are, they would both be uncomfortable to be asked what a painting means, for they would want to emphasise the role of viewers in finding their own meaning from the painting.
So it is with literature. The great value of Lewis’ Narnia stories will be experienced as people read the book or view the film, but as soon as others with a vested interest begin to intrude and to direct the reader or viewer to a particular meaning there is a great danger that the power and beauty of the work will be lost.
I am uncomfortable that some Christians are trying to capitalise on Lewis’ work rather than standing back a little and allowing the story to speak for itself in a variety of ways. The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe is not a substitute for Lewis’ renowned book Mere Christianity and I fear that the attempt to make it so does an injustice both to Lewis and to the Christian faith.
We have already seen newspaper articles pointing out, with some validity, that Lewis’ stories can be seen as sexist, monarchist and racist. This sort of criticism, although it ignores the cultural context, is what happens when we begin to conscript art for some ulterior, even if noble, purpose.
Lewis was one of the finest Christian apologists of the twentieth century and his writings continue to engage people. By all means let us promote his work but let us beware lest we exalt his writings to the status of Holy Writ and somehow therefore rob them of their power to charm and inspire today’s readers.

Mac Nicoll


A postscript or two

A friend who is both an artist and a Christian sent me this quotation from Susan Sontag’s book AGAINST INTERPRETATION [Vintage, 1994]

“Real art has the capacity to make us nervous. By reducing the work of art to its content and then interpreting that, one tames the work of art. Interpretation makes art manageable, comfortable.”


Sontag’s comment reminds me of a memorable statement in Thomas Howard’s autobiographical CHRIST THE TIGER. [Shaw, 1967]

“In the figure of Jesus the Christ there is something that escapes us. He has been the subject of the greatest efforts at systematization in the history of man. But anyone who has ever tried this has had, in the end, to admit that the seams keep bursting. He sooner or later discovers that he is in touch, not with a pale Galilean, but with a towering and furious figure who will not be managed.”


Mac

19/02/2006

MORE PAINTINGS...FLOWERS AND FRUIT

Here are twelve of Margaret's paintings of fruit and flowers. From top to bottom they are HELLEBORES AND APPLES
LEMON REFLECTIONS
GERBERAS AND LEMONS
PETUNIAS
BRAMBLES
DAFFODILS AT ST. ERTH
FIONA'S LILIES
SWEET PEAS AND COMPANIONS
MAGNOLIA
BIRD OF PARADISE
COSMOS
STURT'S DESERT PEA

We have made cards of these paintings and they can be purchased from us, with coloured envelope, for $2.50 each, or $ 2 each if you want 5 or more. We have distributed many hundreds of the cards this year and we are always happy to share these with people who appreciate the beauty of art.

The close of the year....a new beginning

We like the season of Advent. It speaks of
hope
coming
freshness
surprises
new possibilities
and we are reminded of the One who comes to all people in a myriad of unique and unexpected ways and times and places, stirring our intellect or emotions, rescuing us into reality, restoring a sense that there is more.

Several people recently have told us that they have looked at our website. We have no way of knowing whether anyone has looked at it other than when they look at the profile,which simply registers the number of hits to the profile.

So, we invite you to consider sending a message occasionally by making a comment in the appropriate space under each post.

In the coming week I will be posting more of Margaret's paintings, this time mainly of flowers and fruit.