Breaking Bread with the Dead
A Reader's Guide to a More Tranquil Mind
Ratings3
Average rating4.3
15
A Reader's Guide to a More Tranquil Mind
Ratings3
Average rating4.3
A Spectator Book of the Year It's fashionable to think of the writers of the past as irredeemably tarnished by prejudice. Aristotle despised women. John Milton, the great champion of free speech, wouldn't have granted it to Catholics. Edith Wharton's imaginative sympathies stopped short of her Jewish characters. But what if it is only through the works of such individuals that we can achieve a necessary perspective on the troubles of the present? Join literary scholar Alan Jacobs for a truly nourishing feast of learning. Discover what Homer can teach us about force, what Machiavelli has to say about reading and what Charlotte Brontë reveals about race. Not all the guests are people you might want to invite into your home, but they all bring something precious to the table. In Breaking Bread with the Dead, an omnivorous reader draws us into close and sympathetic engagement with minds across the ages, from Horace to Donna Haraway.
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This originally appeared at The Irresponsible Reader.
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WHAT'S BREAKING BREAD WITH THE DEAD ABOUT?
If I tried to summarize this book (unless I read it 3-4 more times), it would be out-of-control, just me blathering on for 4+ pages. So, let's have mercy on us all and just appropriate what's on the publisher's site:
>From the author of HOW TO THINK and THE PLEASURES OF READING IN AN AGE OF DISTRACTION, a literary guide to engaging with the voices of the past to stay sane in the present
W. H. Auden once wrote that “art is our chief means of breaking bread with the dead.” In his brilliant and compulsively readable new treatise, Breaking Bread with the Dead, Alan Jacobs shows us that engaging with the strange and wonderful writings of the past might help us live less anxiously in the present–and increase what Thomas Pynchon once called our “personal density.”
Today we are battling too much information in a society changing at lightning speed, with algorithms aimed at shaping our every thought–plus a sense that history offers no resources, only impediments to overcome or ignore. The modern solution to our problems is to surround ourselves only with what we know and what brings us instant comfort. Jacobs's answer is the opposite: to be in conversation with, and challenged by, those from the past who can tell us what we never thought we needed to know.
What can Homer teach us about force? How does Frederick Douglass deal with the massive blind spots of America's Founding Fathers? And what can we learn from modern authors who engage passionately and profoundly with the past? How can Ursula K. Le Guin show us truths about Virgil's female characters that Virgil himself could never have seen? In Breaking Bread with the Dead, a gifted scholar draws us into close and sympathetic engagement with texts from across the ages, including the work of Anita Desai, Henrik Ibsen, Jean Rhys, Simone Weil, Edith Wharton, Amitav Ghosh, Claude Lévi-Strauss, Italo Calvino, and many more.
By hearing the voices of the past, we can expand our consciousness, our sympathies, and our wisdom far beyond what our present moment can offer.
BREAKING BREAD WITH THE DEAD
* This is not necessarily true for you, just me.
“Why read?”
“Why read old books?”
“How do you live a good and tranquil life?”
All of these are questions I often think about. Alan Jacobs also considers those questions, and the result of his thinking is Breaking Bread with the Dead.
Alan Jacobs starts by looking at the storms (I'd call them Category 5 hurricanes) that blow around us in contemporary life by means of the onslaught of news and social media. To survive, to stand, to move ahead amid the storms requires, he tells us, “personal density,” a term that comes from one of the characters in Thomas Pynchon's book, Gravity's Rainbow. Jacob writes, “...the development of personal density, to which reading old books can be a vital contribution...might provide...a port, for however brief a time, in the storm.”
How to achieve this personal density? We tend, according to Jacobs, to spend time with others like us. “But I believe,” Jacob tells us, “that any significant increase in personal density is largely achieved through encounters with un-likeness.” Jacobs reminds us that the French thinker Simone Weil that looking for eternal truth can be difficult to do when we deal with our actual neighbor because emotions tend to be close to the surface. Books, on the other hand, offer some emotional distance.
One of my favorite parts of this book is where Jacobs shares some thoughts from Italian novelist Italo Calvino about reading old books. “Your classic author is the one you cannot feel indifferent to, who helps you to define yourself in relation to him, even in dispute with him.” Jacobs goes on to share a little more Calvino: “A classic is something that tends to relegate the concerns of the moment to the status of background noise, but at the same time this background noise is something we cannot do without.” During the process of encountering a book from the past, “When we perceive some sudden dissonance between ourselves and those people, we should not run from that dissonance but straight toward it,”Jacob asserts. Further he adds, “This testing of our responses against those of our ancestors is an exciting endeavor—a potentially endless table conversation, though, again, one we can suspend at any time.”
I loved this marvelous conclusion by Jacobs, where he talks about deeply meeting with people from the past: “When we own our kinship to those people, they may come alive for us not just as exemplars of narrowness and wickedness that we have overcome, but as neighbors and even as teachers. When we acknowledge that even when they go far astray they do so in ways that we surely would have, had we been formed as they were, we extend them not just attention but love, the very love that we hope our descendants will extend to us.”
Author Alan Jacobs is interviewed at The Trinity Forum here.
