Showing posts with label Ernest Hemingway. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Ernest Hemingway. Show all posts

Monday, August 12, 2024

EPIPHANY OF THE DAY

 BOLDNESS

A popular sci-fi series in America included, in its introduction, “…to boldly go where no one has gone before.” That serves us well, we think, as a guiding principle.

Sometimes it doesn’t work out so well.

Two United States generals during the Battle of Gettysburg, Sickles and Barlow, didn’t like where their units were deployed so they moved boldly into new positions they liked better.

Both created havoc that decimated their commands and almost cost the Union the battle.

One of Ernest Hemingway’s most popular novels, “The Old Man and the Sea,” features a man who ventured too far out to overcome disappointment.

The magnificent edifice of Mount Everest is littered with the frozen bodies of those who wanted to boldly go where few had gone before.

Custer certainly learned a lesson.

And then there was the time America told France, “Don’t worry, step aside and we’ll settle these pesky Vietnamese down in a few months.”

On the other hand, we could list countless examples where boldness carried the day, the spirits of those still haunting the beaches of Normandy would demand it of us as would those who stormed Missionary Ridge under the leadership of the man who boldly led America into passage of the Emancipation Proclamation. But his life ended at the hands of one who no doubt saw himself as the boldest person who ever lived.

Where does boldness end and idiocy begin?

We must decide, each for ourselves. In the meantime, does compromise work?

It gave us Medicare.

It saved our economy several times over the last few administrations.

It gave us the United States Constitution. Yes, a flawed document, but one that has gained strength over the years, and is held in awe throughout the world.

Public administration examples suggest that too much boldness can result in bankruptcy. To little boldness can result in a rusted polis.

Things seem to work best with healthy doses of each.

Just some thoughts.



Wednesday, February 28, 2018

Sunrise With Schubert

Off to earn money today and time just fugited away, Here's a harmless little literary fancy designed to annoy a Dame Daphne du Maurier fan I know.

Last night I dreamed I went to see Ernest Hemingway again. We had drinks. He had a chilled Vermouth. I had a Four Roses. It came ice cold, with three large ice cubes bobbing in the amber liquid. We talked. Our conversation originated in an animation born of enthusiasm but calmed as the night grew silent. I nodded as I filled his glass. Next I freshened mine, placing the warm glass of the bottle against the still-chilled top of the glass and listening to the clink of two disparate elements like two minds meeting for the first time. I raised it and gave thanks for the time spent together.

An intelligent man is sometimes forced to be drunk to spend time with his fools,” he said.

“And,” I said.  “for your wisdom.”

“What wisdom?”

“The wisdom to sit with a stranger and talk.”

“I never had to choose a subject,” he said. “My subjects chose me.”

“It must involve trust.”

“The best way to find out if you can trust somebody is to trust them.”

“Have you, from where you dwell now, heard of the strange state of our country?”

“America is no moveable feast.”

“It seems we trusted the wrong person, or people. There was no intent to destroy. Many people simply believed.

All things truly wicked start from innocence.”

“What do you think of courage?”

He raised a hand and examined it. He turned a finger so that he saw the nail first and then the print. He moved it to and fro, as if to concentrate his being on the most singular of places. “Courage is grace under pressure.”

“To move without talking about the movement?”

“Never mistake movement for action,” he said.

“No, of course not.”

He thought and added another to his first. “Hesitation increases in relation to risk in equal proportion to age.”

I thought, then said, “The man so many worship now claims courage.”

“Why should anybody be interested in some old man who was a failure?”

This stopped me and I stared at my glass as if were a cauldron of wisdom. “He says now, and his followers believe him, that he would brave if the chance arose, that he would, as an old warrior once said, ride to the sounds  of the cannons.”

“Isn’t it pretty to think so?”

Eeew.