A Right Shambles

Humanist

21 Oct 2010 Leave a Comment

by Hannah H in History, Knowing Stuff, Living, Musings, University Tags: das v, happiness, humanism, intelligence, potsdam, renaissance, society, tudors

From Harvard University Press Publicity

(First of all I just wanted to point out that I appear to be spending today rocking sloppy bag lady chic. Massive coat, minimal make-up, mis-matching shoes and hat, jeans pulled back out of the laundry basket and a floppy knitted beanie. Nice.)

I’ve been fascinated by the Renaissance humanists for years, though I have yet to study them in more than passing detail. In my mind they epitomised self improvement for the general good. Wikipedia (the mother of all pop-references!) tells me that they aimed to create a wide citizenry that could read rather than be taught the professional jargon and pervading medieval knowledge of scholasticism, and thus speak and write eloquently, therefore contributing to better engagement in civic life and encouraging others to be ‘virtuous and prudent’ The humanist culture spread to the courts of Europe – every prince vied to be a Renaissance Prince, with an entourage of humanist scholars to their name. Intellectual capacity became part of a monarchy’s arsenal as much as martial achievement, ancestry or personal grandeur (though it never quite surpasses it!) – there was frequent comment in Tudor England on mastery of languages, theology, philosophy and in some cases, sciences (Henry VIII held a fascination for astronomy and cartography among other things). This comment was, of course, a kind of obligation, and a necessary feature of a monarch’s magnificence-list.

It existed further down the social strata, too. Historians (the actual reference escapes me, I’ll dig through my notes to find the relevant article) have also observed that early modern nobility began to add literacy to their list of attributes (though not all – to some the practice of study instead of martial training was nothing short of an abominable waste of time). Knowledge and the humanist tradition were part and parcel of self-representation. I believe that is still – if not more so – the case now. The acquisition of knowledge in some form defines who we are – it inspires admiration and fear. Knowledge is power etc. How many times have we been terrified of our Oxbridge-educated, razor-sharp tutors, or watched trembling entrepreneurs singing the praises (a.k.a. licking the arse) of those Lord-Sugar-types who are simply, pragmatically clever and thus managed to build up empires from the back of vans?  Every job demands knowledge and experience of the task at hand. Your personal statement/CV/applications/interviews are tests of how much you ‘know’. How much you are ‘good at.’ We are endlessly in awe of those ‘Renaissance Man’ figures – and deservedly so. My Potsdam next-door-neighbour is a first violinist for a major Berlin orchestra, travels the world and enjoys an active social life, designs and makes her own clothing that she sells in her own gorgeous boutique and maintains her own website, whilst managing to look effortlessly chic and beautiful every day. Closer to home, since the day we met I have been in complete awe of my boyfriend (otherwise known as Das Viktorianer) who, in the midst of his PhD, still remembers almost every fact and piece of history he has ever learned, was the first in his family to go to university, is musically talented, possesses a lightspeed wit, is politically aware, directed an operetta and has an incredible gift for rhetoric. And he achieved it all himself.

I do believe in that humanist trope that learning – the enthusiasm to learn – is hugely beneficial not only to the individual but the greater good of society. I think it is crucial to our happiness and well-being. The mark of a happy and fulfilled life is one occupied with the awareness of everything around them, rather than constant spiralling self obsession. I think it’s a cycle. The more we want to learn, the less time we have to be preoccupied with ourselves, the more of our imagination we use productively, the more we can interact with the world, the more good we can do. And like that rush you get from coming out of the gym (not that I’ve experienced that in a while!!) the addiction to learning and the feeling that produces inspires you to go back and keep on acquiring knowledge.

With this in mind, I’ve been thinking these past few days. I have always thought of myself – and people have seen me – as someone defined by intellect. My dad still tells me I have a ‘photographic memory’. I am told I read copiously and like the wind. I could ‘breeze’ through academia. I am artistically and linguistically creative. Talented, even.

But contrary to everything I’ve just said, I’ve been thinking recently that all that has dwindled, or perhaps not ever been there, simply because it’s only assumption, words. I’m of the mind that I’ve never worked quite hard enough to be what I considered – others considered – myself to be, and I wonder – if I had worked myself harder, memorised everything I’ve learned, read constantly, always practiced and maintained my art, poetry, writing, academic pursuits, if my life might have taken better turns. Sometimes, I think I have been too lazy – the consequence of a fairly easy, sheltered family life – and this has impacted on my present. Being currently unemployed this would be the perfect time to generally better myself, right? Yet I spend most of my time on Facebook or on blogs admiring the achievements of others and wishing I had an ounce of their capacity for living, waking up ridiculously late, mooching around my apartment and suddenly finding that I’ve lost a day. I paint a grim picture, don’t I?

I know that perhaps in my current circumstances I undersell myself a little. Something got me to university and has kept me out of the gutter of general ignorance. But in the humanist spirit of things, I think I can do a lot better.

Tschau