In a rare moment of productivity on the site YouTube, I stumbled across a video of CS Lewis describing his thoughts on the reading of old books. I did some searching on the internet and came across an introduction he had written to St. Athanasius’ On the Incarnation.
CS Lewis observes the general trend away from the classics and towards, summaries of the classics, or complete novelty. The trend, I imagine, is only worsened since the time Lewis was writing. Even at the University of Virginia, a school well-regarded for the liberal arts, there is a general lack of knowledge in liberal arts outside of the circles where students specialize in their studies. Almost nobody has read books older than the Renaissance; I myself hardly knew Chaucer existed until my fourth year, where I took a Medieval Romance class. In the context of philosophy, most of my readings for school came courtesy of the modern project or postmodernity, very few (outside of a history of Ancient and Medieval Philosophy course) came from before then.
Digression aside, in this introduction to On the Incarnation, CS. Lewis gives a compelling argument for turning directly to the old classics, rather than reading them through some intermediary or dismissing them altogether. He observes:
“The error is rather an amiable one, for it springs from humility. The student is half afraid to meet one of the great philosophers face to face. He feels himself inadequate and thinks he will not understand him. But if he only knew, the great man, just because of his greatness, is much more intelligible than his modern commentator. The simplest student will be able to understand, if not all, yet a very great deal of what Plato said; but hardly anyone can understand some modern books on Platonism. It has always therefore been one of my main endeavors as a teacher to persuade the young that firsthand knowledge is not only more worth acquiring than secondhand knowledge but is usually much easier and more delightful to acquire.”
A correction might be made to the first sentence. I doubt that it is an excessive reverence of these great minds explains their relative absence from curricula outside of specialized departments. The classics seem more likely to be met with indifference, criticisms of impracticality, or worse disdain. A classics major once explained to me her conundrum of studying Classics when it provided the foundation for a “patriarchal white supremacist society.” This disdain is not aided by the consistent trend of valuing an education by monetary payoff. One of the first days in my philosophy class, the professor boasted that philosophy majors were among the highest paid majors. In our present age, liberal arts degrees are seen more as a practical preparation for law school than any kind of attempt at reaching deeper truth or making one more fully human.
Lewis also discusses the lucidity of the classics when compared to their summaries and analyses composed on top of them. This point resonates when you consider the audiences for which these respective types of works were directed: classics generally became considered as such because they were able to reach a broad base of people, books written about classics tend to be directed towards experts in that specific domain.
It is also significantly more enjoyable to read the classics themselves rather than read commentaries on them. Reading St. Thomas Aquinas is considerably more enjoyable than reading some of his commentators (not to detract from the incredible work they have done). There is also a sense in which the art reflects the person of the artist, some of which can be lost as work gets further away from the original source. When we read someone’s work, we encounter a reflection of them in their work. When we read the Summa Theologica, we encounter not just the ideas of St. Thomas, but a reflection of himself in his work. The great Thomist St. John Paul II, puts it this way in his Letter to Artists:
In shaping a masterpiece, the artist not only summons his work into being, but also in some way reveals his own personality by means of it. For him art offers both a new dimension and an exceptional mode of expression for his spiritual growth. Through his works, the artist speaks to others and communicates with them. The history of art, therefore, is not only a story of works produced but also a story of men and women. Works of art speak of their authors; they enable us to know their inner life, and they reveal the original contribution which artists offer to the history of culture.
What a great gift it is to know the great minds of history, the great philosophers, writers, and Saints. One of the greatest gifts of our present age is the accessibility we have to these great works. Many of the great works of civilization are free to anyone willing enough to look for them. Oftentimes, I have found them to be free in multiple formats, whether that be audiobooks, pdf, or on a shelf at your local library.
Lastly, it is worth considering why certain books are considered “Classics.” Other than objective brilliance, beauty, and impact, these books, for better (and in a few cases) worse, these books have stood the test of time. Fashions and ages move with the wind, but a select few writers have stood the test of time, proving to be a source of the eternal wisdom our minds long for. These authors are worth considering, contemplating, and studying. My grandfather (a source of great wisdom) recommended I find a great books list and read as many books as I could off that list. I don’t have a copy of my grandfather’s list, but here are some other lists I found: