Finneran's Wake

Ep. 27 - Discourses On Davila| John Adams

“Every individual is seen to be strongly actuated by a desire to be seen, heard, talked of, approved and respected, by the people about him, and within his knowledge”. This is the fundamental, universal impulse by which every single person is animated—a passion for distinction, and a desire to be loved. We all feel it—from our life’s beginning, till its end—and to its satisfaction, we apply ourselves incessantly. It’s the government’s role, then, to check this mighty passion, and to restrain ...

Ep. 26 - Paradise Lost | John Milton

“Me miserable! Which way shall I fly—Infinite wrath, and infinite despair? Which way I fly is hell; myself am hell; And in the lowest deep a lower deep still threatening to devour me opens wide, to which the hell I suffer seems a heaven”. The question, then, fiend Satan, is wither goest thou? Quo vadis, king of the infernal depth? Directionless and vanquished, fallen and condemned, what home remains to you, arch apostate, that is not also hell? As you admit, yours is a mind “not to be change...

Paradise Lost by John Milton | A Reading

“Me miserable! Which way shall I fly—Infinite wrath, and infinite despair? Which way I fly is hell; myself am hell; And in the lowest deep a lower deep still threatening to devour me opens wide, to which the hell I suffer seems a heaven”. The question, then, fiend Satan, is wither goest thou? Quo vadis, king of the infernal depth? Directionless and vanquished, fallen and condemned, what home remains to you, arch apostate, that is not also hell? As you admit, yours is a mind “not to ...

The Golden Bough by James George Frazer | A Reading

“Thus it appears that the Christian Church chose to celebrate the birthday of its Founder on the twenty-fifth of December in order to transfer the devotion of the heathen from the Sun to him who was called the Sun of Righteousness”. The Nativity of Christ, then, is observed not at some divinely-sanctioned date, an hour of which the singing angels in heaven alone foreknew, but at a time of the year in strict conformity with the rather mundane renewal of the sun. The Winter Solstice wa...

Ep. 25 - The Golden Bough | James George Frazer

“Thus it appears that the Christian Church chose to celebrate the birthday of its Founder on the twenty-fifth of December in order to transfer the devotion of the heathen from the Sun to him who was called the Sun of Righteousness”. The Nativity of Christ, then, is observed not at some divinely-sanctioned date, an hour of which the singing angels in heaven alone foreknew, but at a time of the year in strict conformity with the rather mundane renewal of the sun. The Winter Solstice was simply ...

Ep. 24 - Endymion | John Keats

“A thing of beauty is a joy for ever: Its loveliness increases; it will never pass into nothingness; but still will keep a bower quiet for us, and a sleep full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing”. Indeed, forever joyous is that beautiful thing—its fair image upon the Grecian urn so fitly stamped. For beauty knows not death, nor feels the whips and scorns of time. It fears not the slings and shocks to which flesh is heir, nor the pangs of love denied. It cannot fade; it cannot be...

Endymion by John Keats | A Reading

“A thing of beauty is a joy for ever: Its loveliness increases; it will never pass into nothingness; but still will keep a bower quiet for us, and a sleep full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing”. Indeed, forever joyous is that beautiful thing—its fair image upon the Grecian urn so fitly stamped. For beauty knows not death, nor feels the whips and scorns of time. It fears not the slings and shocks to which flesh is heir, nor the pangs of love denied. It cannot fade; it ...

The Rime Of The Ancient Mariner by Samuel Taylor Coleridge | A Reading

“Ah! Well a-day! What evil looks had I from old and young! Instead of the cross, the Albatross about my neck was hung.” And thus, in death, the image of the bird was born. Had the trigger-happy Mariner not shot this helpful fowl, this airy guide upon whom the wayward crew was dependent, we’d not have the great expression—an “Albatross to bear”. Pinions of ebony, body of creamy white, this guileless bird was killed in mid-flight. The neck of its assassin bore the corpse’s heavy weight...

Ep. 23 - The Rime Of The Ancient Mariner | Samuel Taylor Coleridge

“Ah! Well a-day! What evil looks had I from old and young! Instead of the cross, the Albatross about my neck was hung.” And thus, in death, the image of the bird was born. Had the trigger-happy Mariner not shot this helpful fowl, this airy guide upon whom the wayward crew was dependent, we’d not have the great expression—an “Albatross to bear”. Pinions of ebony, body of creamy white, this guileless bird was killed in mid-flight. The neck of its assassin bore the corpse’s heavy weight, endured...

Crime and Punishment by Fyodor Dostoevsky | A Reading

“You see, I wanted to become a Napoleon…that’s why I killed. Well, is it clear now? Would Napoleon have gone ahead or not?” Doubtless, he would have. The Corsican artilleryman, that great general upon whom, in the rubble of the Revolution, the dazzling title of “First Consul” was bestowed, was little encumbered by his conscience, and seldom dissuaded by the scruples of his Christian faith. Indeed, he was subject to no higher moral law, no Decalogue issued at Sinai’s misty peak. He ca...

Ep. 22 - Crime and Punishment | Fyodor Dostoevsky

“You see, I wanted to become a Napoleon…that’s why I killed. Well, is it clear now? Would Napoleon have gone ahead or not?” Doubtless, he would have. The Corsican artilleryman, that great general upon whom, in the rubble of the Revolution, the dazzling title of “First Consul” was bestowed, was little encumbered by his conscience, and seldom dissuaded by the scruples of his Christian faith. Indeed, he was subject to no higher moral law, no Decalogue issued at Sinai’s misty peak. He cast himsel...

Ep. 21 - Song Of The Open Road | Walt Whitman

“Henceforth I ask not good-fortune—I myself am good-fortune. Henceforth I whimper no more, postpone no more, need nothing, done with indoor complaints, libraries, querulous criticisms. Strong and content, I travel the open road”. Might we, having now seen the “long brown path” before us, and nodded “yes” to its meanders---to the many bends along which our intrepid feet amble---join you on so enticing a walk? Might we, having now pressed our soles to the leaf-strewn soil, and felt the supple s...

Song Of The Open Road by Walt Whitman | A Reading

“Henceforth I ask not good-fortune—I myself am good-fortune. Henceforth I whimper no more, postpone no more, need nothing, done with indoor complaints, libraries, querulous criticisms. Strong and content, I travel the open road”. Might we, having now seen the “long brown path” before us, and nodded “yes” to its meanders---to the many bends along which our intrepid feet amble---join you on so enticing a walk? Might we, having now pressed our soles to the leaf-strewn soil, and felt the...

Fathers And Sons by Ivan Turgenev | A Reading

“A nihilist—that’s from the Latin "nihil", nothing, so far as I can judge. Therefore, the word denotes a man who doesn’t recognize anything?” Sadly, it does. The word’s etymology, should you be so fearless as to trace it to its root, shan’t lead you astray. It will, however, lead you to dark, morbid, and unnatural places, to a chthonic world out of which you’ll not easily climb. It’ll lead you to a realm emptied of meaning, and an existence stripped of life. The materialist, utilitar...

Ep. 20 - Fathers And Sons | Ivan Turgenev

“A nihilist—that’s from the Latin "nihil", nothing, so far as I can judge. Therefore, the word denotes a man who doesn’t recognize anything?” Sadly, it does. The word’s etymology, should you be so fearless as to trace it to its root, shan’t lead you astray. It will, however, lead you to dark, morbid, and unnatural places, to a chthonic world out of which you’ll not easily climb. It’ll lead you to a realm emptied of meaning, and an existence stripped of life. The materialist, utilitarian, unpo...

Metamorphoses by Ovid | A Reading

“To the music of his strings he sang, and all the bloodless spirits wept to hear; and Tantalus forgot the fleeing water, Ixion’s wheel was tranced; Sisyphus sat rapt upon his stone and the Furies’ cheeks, it’s said, were wet with tears; And Hades’ queen and He whose scepter rules the Underworld could not deny the prayer, and called Eurydice.” Such is the power of Orpheus’ melodious persuasion. With lyre in hand, and a song in his heart, the troubled troubadour is able to convince his...

Ep. 19 - Metamorphoses | Ovid

“To the music of his strings he sang, and all the bloodless spirits wept to hear; and Tantalus forgot the fleeing water, Ixion’s wheel was tranced; Sisyphus sat rapt upon his stone and the Furies’ cheeks, it’s said, were wet with tears; And Hades’ queen and He whose scepter rules the Underworld could not deny the prayer, and called Eurydice.” Such is the power of Orpheus’ melodious persuasion. With lyre in hand, and a song in his heart, the troubled troubadour is able to convince his every li...

The Magic Mountain by Thomas Mann | A Reading

“The days began to fly now, and yet each one of them was stretched by renewed expectations and swollen with silent, private experiences. Yes, time is a puzzling thing, there is something about it that is hard to explain”. It’s positively bewildering. Indeed, the difficulty in explaining it is only increased as one reaches the heights of the Magic Mountain, that strange Alpine crag in which the famed sanatorium is nestled, and the confederacy of the tubercular confined. There, so many...

Ep. 18 - The Magic Mountain | Thomas Mann

“The days began to fly now, and yet each one of them was stretched by renewed expectations and swollen with silent, private experiences. Yes, time is a puzzling thing, there is something about it that is hard to explain”. It’s positively bewildering. Indeed, the difficulty in explaining it is only increased as one reaches the heights of the Magic Mountain, that strange Alpine crag in which the famed sanatorium is nestled, and the confederacy of the tubercular confined. There, so many miles ab...

Ep. 17 - The Prelude, Book I | William Wordsworth

“The earth is all before me: with a heart joyous, nor scared at its own liberty, I look about, and should the guide I choose be nothing better than a wandering cloud, I cannot miss my way”. Let us mount that wayward nimbus, upon whose broad back we leap to climb, if only to seek the sunrise of a fresh and glorious day. Let us follow that venturesome spirit, by which, in heat, the verdant land is shaded, and, in solitude, the quiet empyrean conveyed. This much we know—we shall not be led astra...

The Prelude by William Wordsworth | A Reading

“The earth is all before me: with a heart joyous, nor scared at its own liberty, I look about, and should the guide I choose be nothing better than a wandering cloud, I cannot miss my way”. Let us mount that wayward nimbus, upon whose broad back we leap to climb, if only to seek the sunrise of a fresh and glorious day. Let us follow that venturesome spirit, by which, in heat, the verdant land is shaded, and, in solitude, the quiet empyrean conveyed. This much we know—we shall not be ...

Ep. 16 - On The Art Of Conversation, Part II | Michel De Montaigne

“I welcome truth, I fondle it, in whosesoever hand I find it; I surrender to it cheerfully, welcoming it with my vanquished arms as soon as I see it approaching from afar”. With the exception of love, and perhaps beauty, truth is the only power to which, once beaten, we can’t but gladly submit. We smile as we bow our heads in its royal presence, and cheer the conquest of its arrival. It’s the supreme force, greater than any other, before which we unhesitatingly genuflect, and to which we happ...

Ep. 15 - On The Art Of Conversation, Part I | Michel De Montaigne

“To my taste, the most fruitful and most natural exercise of our minds is conversation. I find the practice of it the most delightful activity in our lives. In their academies, the Athenians, and even more the Romans, maintained this exercise in great honor”. In our own times, however, we’ve all but forgotten this delightful art—this melodious exchange of ideas, and interplay of opinions, in which classical tongues were so fluent. We no longer feel the spark by which it once tickled our nerve...

On The Art Of Conversation by Michel De Montaigne | A Reading

“To my taste, the most fruitful and most natural exercise of our minds is conversation. I find the practice of it the most delightful activity in our lives. In their academies, the Athenians, and even more the Romans, maintained this exercise in great honor”. In our own times, however, we’ve all but forgotten this delightful art—this melodious exchange of ideas, and interplay of opinions, in which classical tongues were so fluent. We no longer feel the spark by which it once tickled ...

The History Of Rasselas, Prince Of Abyssinia by Samuel Johnson | A Reading

‘The Europeans,’ answered Imlac, ‘are less unhappy than we, but they are not happy. Human life is everywhere a state in which much is to be endured, and little to be enjoyed’. Alas, is this not the divine punishment for our original transgression?—the terrible consequence of our old, Edenic sin? Were our first parents not warned against tasting of the fruit with which that tempting tree was laden? Were they not then told, having eaten it, and having satisfied both hunger and curiosit...

Ep. 14 - The History Of Rasselas, Prince Of Abyssinia | Samuel Johnson

‘The Europeans,’ answered Imlac, ‘are less unhappy than we, but they are not happy. Human life is everywhere a state in which much is to be endured, and little to be enjoyed’. Alas, is this not the divine punishment for our original transgression?—the terrible consequence of our old, Edenic sin? Were our first parents not warned against tasting of the fruit with which that tempting tree was laden? Were they not then told, having eaten it, and having satisfied both hunger and curiosity in a si...

Ep. 13 - Beyond Good and Evil, Part II | Friedrich Nietzsche

“Every profound thinker is more afraid of being understood than of being misunderstood. The latter may perhaps wound his vanity; but the former will wound his heart”. For those of us still engaged in the grand, century-old philosophical autopsy of Friedrich Nietzsche, an inexhaustible examination for which, truly, the pathologist is as much needed as the psychologist and the priest, we can’t but notice the full and unscathed shape of his heart. Press your ear to this vital organ, and listen t...

Ep. 12 - Beyond Good and Evil, Part I | Friedrich Nietzsche

“Be like them! Become mediocre!”—is henceforth the only morality that has any meaning left, that still finds ears to hear it. But it is difficult to preach, this morality of mediocrity!” Difficult to preach, yes, but also difficult to swallow. And he who tastes this bitter pill can’t but cough, and, after having cleared his throat, ask with shallow breath the following: Is there no stronger morality by which one’s enfeebled self might be affirmed? Is there no higher standard to which one’s si...

Ep. 11 - A Defence Of Poetry, Part III | Percy Bysshe Shelley

“A great poem is a fountain forever overflowing with the waters of wisdom and delight; and after one person and one age has exhausted all its divine effluence, another and yet another succeeds”. Our thirst for such high poetry is, in a word, unslakable. We’ll bedew our lips with no lesser type. For this, we thank God, or some superintending muse, for allowing great poetry to spring from a well at once bottomless and eternal, limpid and strong, into which, from one generation to the next, we d...

Ep. 10 - A Defence Of Poetry, Part II | Percy Bysshe Shelley

“Poetry is a sword of lightning ever unsheathed, which consumes the scabbard that would contain it”. Tis’ an unalloyed, ethereal blade, a bold dagger around which no mortal sheathe could wrap. Tis’ an electric sword, a flaming rod of steel, a keen weapon wielded by the tireless Uriel. He is, after all, the immobile, unblinking angel, the stolid cherub by whom our re-admission to Eden is forever barred. Until he relents, let us marvel at the poet’s hand setting the sky ablaze.

Ep. 9 - A Defence Of Poetry, Part I | Percy Bysshe Shelley

“A poet is a nightingale who sits in darkness, and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds; his auditors are as men entranced by the melody of an unseen musician, who feel that they are moved and softened, yet know not whence or why”. May we never know how highly perched above us the nightingale nests, nor in what tenebrous darkness the sweet poet sings. Suffice it for us, for now, simply to be moved by the intimacy of their music, and to warm ourselves in the embrace of their undet...

Ep. 8 - Nature, Part II | Ralph Waldo Emerson

“I have seen the softness and beauty of the summer clouds floating feathery overhead, enjoying, as it seemed, their height and privilege of motion, whilst yet they appeared not so much the drapery of this place and hour, as forelooking to some pavilions and gardens of festivity beyond”. Might we not also gain admittance to this distant, empyrean place? Might we not forego our rusted clay and join that white plumage in which the sweet dew of divine precipitation gathers? I think we might.

Ep. 7 - Nature, Part I | Ralph Waldo Emerson

"The incommunicable trees begin to persuade us to live with them, and quit our life of solemn trifles. Here no history, or church, or state, is interpolated on the divine sky and the immortal year". Let us, at long last, heed their arboreal whispers, and embrace their silent grandeur. Beneath the protection of their ample shade, between the columns of their rigid bark, we’ll build our nests, live as neighbors, and, better still, love as friends.

Ep. 6 - Essay On Man, Epistle IV | Alexander Pope

"That virtue only makes our bliss below, and all our knowledge is, ourselves to know". In other words, if this couplet were to be condensed into an utterance more succinct, "Know Thyself". So saith the inscription on the wall of the famed temple at Delphi, so saith the less-than pagan Pope. Enjoy this final installment of his "Essay On Man".

Ep. 5 - Essay On Man, Epistle III | Alexander Pope

"Man, like the generous vine, supported lives; the strength he gains is from the embrace he gives". Join me for this--Pope's penultimate installment to his famed, "Essay On Man". The themes upon which the divine Pope, that mitred-master of the couplet, proceeds to dilate are many: God and Nature; instinct and reason; man and beast; government and state from its infancy, till now. Enjoy.

Ep. 4 - Essay On Man, Epistle II | Alexander Pope

"Know, then, thyself, presume not God to scan; the proper study of mankind is man". So read, in part, the inscription above the Apollonian Temple at Delphi; so says the near-divine Pope, by whom his touch of English eloquence was added to the lapidary Greek. We humans exist in a middle state, somewhere between the lofty angels and lowly beasts. We're a troubled stream flowing from a purer source, yet this source is not for our minds to fathom. Simply drift with me as we chart the wandering sea.

Ep. 3 - Essay On Man, Epistle I | Alexander Pope

"Laugh where we must, be candid where we can; but vindicate the ways of God to man". This is a vindication, mind you, not a justification--as John Milton might have it. Whether or not you wish to contemplate the subtle differences between the two, or simply bask in the light of their poetic brilliance, I leave to you. Either way, enjoy this reading. I hope you find it restful.

Ep. 2 - Don Juan | Lord Byron

"The Devil hath not in all his quiver's choice, an arrow for the heart like a sweet voice". Indeed, so dulcet a dart must be loosed by a gentler hand. It must be guided by an aim more eloquent than his. It must, if it's to strike that vital part, and penetrate that pulsing organ entombed in the breast, climb onto the honey-laden bow from which, with both melody and grace, it'll swiftly fly. Allow me to relieve the eager tension of this string and deliver that which divinity alone most adores:...

Ep. 1 - Childe Harold's Pilgrimage | Lord Byron

"Ye stars! which are the poetry of heaven! If in your bright leaves we would read the fate of men and empires--'tis to be forgiven, that in our aspirations to be great, our destinies overleap their mortal state". A pilgrimage for the ages: yours, to the terra incognita of sleep, and Childe Harold's, to the land for which, at one time or another, a Roman or a Gaul, a Caesar or a Napoleon, fiercely contended. Join me, as I follow our hero through his reveries on nature, his engagements in war, ...

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