Book review: Aquinas, by Copleston

Aquinas is dead famous, and F C Copleston is quite famous too; as a convert to Catholicism and a priest, I think I can trust that he is about as sympathetic to Big Tom as one could possibly be, as so will feel no need to make any further allowances. You will find the text here, should you be feeling brave. Although the book is well enough written I would not recommend reading it, unless you're interested in BigT, and I would recommend that you not be interested.

Because: BigT is fundamentally second-rate; fundamentally just a sterile synthesiser of Aristotle into Catholicism. As Russell puts it:

There is little of the true philosophic spirit in Aquinas. He does not, like the Platonic Socrates, set out to follow wherever the argument may lead. He is not engaged in an inquiry, the result of which it is impossible to know in advance. Before he begins to philosophize, he already knows the truth; it is declared in the Catholic faith. If he can find apparently rational arguments for some parts of the faith, so much the better; if he cannot, he need only fall back on revelation. The finding of arguments for a conclusion given in advance is not philosophy, but special pleading. I cannot, therefore, feel that he deserves to be put on a level with the best philosophers either of Greece or of modern times.

The book covers his metaphysics, and his theology, and their overlap. The metaphysics covers such fundamentally uninteresting things as "the whole is greater than any of its parts". That is uninteresting, when applied to the real world, because it is just the bleedin' obvious¹. Unfortunately as well as being the bleedin' obvious in the physical world it has the virtue of being false in the metaphysical world, since the defining property of an infinite set - such as the integers - is that is can be put into one-to-one correspondence with a proper subset - such as the square numbers. Coplestone attempts to evade this by saying that he doesn't want to get into the complications of infinite sets, but this will not do, because excluding infinite sets is to restrict the statement precisely to those things it is true for; it is like saying "all numbers are even (errm, cough, I exlcude odd numbers of course)". So the metaphysics veers between dull and wrong, and if there's any point in it, I missed it³. Maybe the stuff about essence and so on comes in here, and other uninteresting stuff carried over from Aristotle but really best forgotten.

We then get some of the proofs of God. These are all wrong, of course, for reasons ranging from the possibility of an infinite regress, to the problem that none of them generate a Christian God even if they did work.

A potentially nice bit is that BigT correctly realises that his arguments cannot derive all aspects of Christian doctrine - for example, the Trinity - and he is quite happy to rest those upon Revelation. So far, so good. But (unlike Hobbes) he doesn't think this through: if the Trinity, for example, is known by Revelation - presumably, to whoever wrote it down into the Bible or wherever it first gets written down - then everyone else only knows it by acceptance-of-authority²; and he is quite clear that no aspect of God can be positively known by sense-experience of the world.

He makes a stab at deriving morality, but at least as reported it isn't a very good one, as it amounts to we should strive for the good and avoid evil; unfortunately he doesn't really have a good definition of good. He also seems to think that our ultimate aim is the ultimate good which is God; this passes happily straight by Copleston but won't pass in the real world; happily we real humans don't have to live with such a pre-imposed goal and have the wider spaces of human flourishing available to us.

There's the problem of Evil to deal with too. This is mostly defined away by thinking of Evil as Privation, I suppose mostly Privation-of-God, and so since that makes it a negative thing, God isn't responsible for it, God is only responsible for presences, not absences. This isn't a bad start but alas it fails on, e.g., mass-death-from-earthquakes. Coplestone hasn't the heart to discuss that, but I think BigT would be forced to fall back upon: dying in God's Grace is no evil. Alas, yer common man is not going to take mega-death-is-all-fine, so we don't say that in public; instead, Coplestone just emits what looks to me to be a large amount of squid ink at this point and hopes we all get bored and start skipping,which I did.

Notes

1. With a part understood as a proper part, obvs.

2. You could save this by asserting that God reveals the authority of the Bible to everyone, but that would be kinda awkward  - why didn't I get the message - and I don't think anyone actually tries that.

3. Not to be laid at BigT's door, but browing a "guide to modern metaphysics" in Heffers I found a chapter on McT's drivel about time.

Book review: The Bloody Sun

More Darkover tosh, but reasonably entertaining. Towards the end though as the complicated plot extricates itself from the confusion it has created there are so many names of people I don't really care about that I lost the will to remember who was the son, daughter, kin or foster relation of whom. Wiki will tell you stuff; and the Marion Zimmer Bradley article will tell you things you don't want to know.

At one point, struck by the heavily male-centric story and the way the female characters lack any independent agency, I went to check that MZB was actually female - "Marion" can be a male name, though rarely. But no, she really is female, so I don't think we can directly blame the patriacrchy.

So skipping all that, the main item of interest to a disinterested observer is the interaction of the Earth-tech society with the Darkover-psi society. This is weighted about as heavily in favour of Darkover as you could: Earth just maintains a toehold, doesn't attempt to coerce Darkover, is happy to take in Darkover refugees (there's a plaintive bit towards the end where one of the characters notices that whenever people are likely to get killed, their refuge is Earth), and so on. And yet Darkover is still losing: their psi is, for whatever reason, in retreat; and their Towers are failing because of their ridiculous tribal rules. When they discuss why they want to keep their funny little ways instead of being just another boring Earth colony about the best they can come up with is not liking pollution; even I could do better than that. In this book, somewhat implausibly, the hereditary psi-lords justify their lordship by how much they help the populace, which is in awe of them. And yet even that isn't good enough. One of the services they provide is "relay screens" for the transmission of messages, but - well, obviously - that's a pretty poor second to a mobile phone.

Turning to the social side, notice how completely stuck in the mud Our Hero - who thinks he is an Earthman, and who has actually been brought up on Earth - is. Every social situation that differs in any way from middle class America of the '60s brings out in him rage, confusion, and a total inability to cope. Oh, and the other amusing point: he has fallen into the society of telepaths¹ but again and again, a hapless victim of the needs of the plot, he comes out of a situation realising - duh - that they've been reading his mind all along.

Notes

1. Oddly, they have no convention of not reading the minds of  non-telepaths without consent, which seems rude to me. Also, despite presumably reading each other's minds, they have perfectly normal conversations, and there's not even a gesture - as Asimov was good enough to put into Second Foundation - to "this is what it would have been, had they been speaking".

Cornwall 2025

Spring rolls round, M is away, D is off visiting E, I have my chance to go on the bank holiday 4C's trip to Cornwall, so I take it. Pix here. GPS: Bosigran; Pordenack; Sennen. My UKC logbook.

Friday: drive down starting at 6 am taking James; we've both got quite a bit of stuff so it is just as well no-one is in the back seats; arrive about 3 and set up tents before the rain sets in again. The campsite (Trevaylor Caravan & Camping Park) is good, lovely grass better than my lawn, the toilet block is good and so are the showers, and there's a conservatory to sit in which even has power sockets.

Rain returns so I abandon any plans to climb today, and anyway James is an outdoor novice so it is better to wait for others. GD and others return perhaps ~5, having done Alison Rib at Bosigran; they've booked dinner in the Trewellard Arms so I do too and drive them there; and a decent fish+chips it is too.

And so back, a brief sit and read, and then to bed. It turns out that the tent doesn't survive continuous rain very well; happily I have a bivvy bag to keep off the drips and my inflatable mat to keep me off the wet floor. I already knew the tent was non-optimal in non-dry conditions but this is a bit much; it needs reproofing, or I need to learn how to pitch it properly - though I think I have -, or we need a new tent.

Saturday: Wx looks good, we'll head to Bosigran because that dries nicely and is safe for everyone. No-one is feeling terribly bold so we're mostly on the VD/S end of things, though I think GD and friends went up the top pitch of Venusberg, having VD'd their way that high as the bottom pitch looked seep-y. James, who I've ended up climbing with, and I do Oread HVD and Alison Rib D, both nice, after teaching him how to tie a figure of eight. Laurence, nearby, watches over him belaying me; happily I'm not feeling worried about either climb. We - or was it I? - then start to get more ambitious with Doorway, S, and multi-pitch. But James isn't happy even on the quite generous ledge that Doorway gives you on the short scrambly pitch 2, so I ab him off. I then briefly - well, actually, perhaps for half an hour - consider joining Elen and Chris on Ledge Climb VD, but eventually decide it is better if I ab off myself. That concludes the climbing for the day. Back at the campsite I and some others cook, since I don't want a pub meal every day; and then join the others in the local The Queen's Arms.

Pic: Elen belaying Chris up In-Between VD; Oread is the arete just to the left; James in the foreground. The harder stuff - Anvil Chorus and so on - is off to the left.

Sunday: after much discussion we mysteriously converge on Pordenack as the place to go; I've never been there. James and I arrive a little late as he lost his helmet at Bosigran and we go and fruitlessly look for it; and then when we walk out to the point I remember I've forgotten to pay for parking so go back to Land's End, fortunately not far; and when I get back various including Nick and Josie are coming back, finding the descent below "the squeeze" unfriendly; and since the sea isn't dead calm or the tide dead low, some of the cliff isn't accessible. Brief discussion and we head for Sennen instead, which is fine by me, I have happy memories of Sennen.

Pic: slightly distorting pano of the "main bay" at Sennen; you see the ab rope; it is possible to walk in from the right (as seen on this pic) but it is a fair way round. Perhaps I should have done it at some point to get it onto the GPS trace.

I lead Intermediate Route HVD to Nick; then I think Nick lead Black Slab; and then we added James and I lead Corner Climb. By then the day was aging as were we, and I decided not to push for Demo Route, lovely as it looked. And I was somewhat tired.

I fly my drone a bit; some views of the cliffs; a flight half way to the lighthouse before I lose my nerve.

Ringing the changes again we had dinner at the chippy in Sennen, well I sponged off Elen's excess chips as I'd remembered to bring lunch today. And so back for a pint at the Queen's Arms, but not two as I didn't want to keep getting up in the night again.

Monday: wx again good, somewhat unexpectedly, but Nick is off early, GD etc are for Avon, and I forget the others. So I go for a walk down to the coast then to Cape Cornwall; and James and I leave at 11:30 ish, perhaps not the best time as the traffic is not joyous; we get back to Cambridge sometime around 9 pm.

Climbing posts

I now have a fair number of climbing posts. I find it will be convenient to have a list, so here is one begun. Before we go on, here is my high point: the summit of Mont Blanc with D and E.

Misc: new rope and slings; new boots; new coat and trousers; new watch; lightweight rope / rap cord and tarp.

* 2025: Peaks 2025: Stanage and Froggatt

* 2025: Cornwall 2025

* 2025: Peaks: Stanage

* 2025: Cairngorms: Return to Sneachda

* 2024: France 2024: Orsay, Chamonix, Argeles, Canal du Midi

* 2024: Ecrins 2024

* 2024: Peaks: Stanage and Froggatt

* 2023: France 2023 (walking in the Ecrins)

* 2023: Peaks: Stanage and Birchens

* 2022: Boxing Day at Horseshoe Quarry

* 2022: A trip to Pembroke with the 4C's

* 2022: Switzerland 2022 family holiday walking / climbing

* 2021: Switzerland 2021 solo

* 2021: July 2021: Lake District: Kendal

* 2020: Wales: Caernarfon, and the hills beyond walking

* 2020: Ecrins 2020 with D+E

* France 2019: Mt Blanc: Tete Rousse / Gouter

* France 2019: Argentiere

* France 2019: Couvercle and Pointe Isabella

* France 2019: Albert Premier (Aiguille du Tour; Tete Blanche, Petite Fourche)

* 2018: Summer 2018: Dolomites via ferrata

* 2018: A trip to the Lakes with D and E walking

* 2017: Ecrins 2017

* 2016: Ecrins solo

* 2016: Norway family walking

* 2015: The leaves of Chatsworth lie thick on the ground

* 2015: Stubai 2015 with D+J

* 2014: Stubai

* 2014: Stanage with Daniel and Jamie

* 2014: Chatsworth, old man

* 2013: Stanage, Youth

* 2013: Coire an t-Sneachda

* 2012: A short walk in the Stubai

* 2010: Stanage, youth

* 1996: A trip to the Cairngorms, 1996

Book review: If This is a Man / The Truce

If This Is a Man is a memoir by Jewish Italian writer Primo Levi, first published in 1947. It describes his arrest as a member of the Italian anti-fascist resistance during the Second World War, and his incarceration in the Auschwitz concentration camp (Monowitz) from February 1944 until the camp was liberated on 27 January 1945.

The Truce describes the author's experiences from the liberation of Auschwitz (Monowitz), until he reaches home in Turin, Italy, after a long journey. He describes the situation in different displaced persons camps after the Second World War.

I'll do TT first, because it is easier. Although not entirely free of horror - we begin in Monowitz, lots or people still die as conditions don't instantly improve, PL is still desperately sick - in the end it turns into a weird picaresque adventure, as a combination of uncertain times at the end of the war, and traditional Soviet incompetence or disinterest, sees PL taking a distinctly non-optimal trajectory home. There are vast multi-day train rides to uncertain destinations. There are chancers of dubious morality ripping off the local peasants; there's an entire summer out in the woods where odd subcultures develope. Conditions slowly improve; eventually he gets home.

ITIAM is harder. Primarily it is intended as witness. This is awkward for me; I "know" this stuff already; I have no doubt that the Holocaust happened. Is it "useful" for me to learn the details? Perhaps. PL is of course not a typical concentration camper, since he survived, unlike the vast proportion of the others. Partly this was because he was only picked up late; partly because after a bit he got a cushy job; partly perhaps just luck. I am just a teensy tiny bit suspicious that there are things we aren't told, that might not be entirely to his credit; but only because that is almost inevitable, if you survived.

Various incidents or typical situations are told. Example: the soup for each mess was not stirred, because the soup-dispenser got the dregs which had the good bits, so no-one wanted to be first in line. Example: standing apparently pointlessly on parade. Example: awaiting the coming of less terrible weather as winter became spring. So the story is told not day-by-day but as a series of typical things; wiki provides a chapter list. But this does make you half forget that the terrible things continue. The end, The Story of Ten Days, is diary-like and I think works better for it.

The writing style is not brilliant; wiki goes for "calm sobriety" and continues He ascribed the clarity of his language to the habits acquired during his training as a chemist: "My model was that of the weekly reports, a normal practice in factories: they must be concise, precise and written in a language accessible to all levels of the firm's hierarchy" which is all very well but again, not sparkling prose.

Book review: Fourth Consort

By Edward "Mickey 7" Ashton. I think the number in the title is a mistake, because it invites inevitable comparison with Mickey 7. And there are too many similarities. One of those similarities is a decent story, so that's good. But another is the rather bland (or as I said for M7, "pedestrian") writing style, which is bad. We again have a down-on-his-luck hero with a feisty female companion, with a very similar line in self-deprecating humour to M7.

In fact having started this book I put it down to get through The Left Hand of God, and somewhat reluctantly came back to it. If the book has a moral it is that trying to be a good person is good; this however is also bland, and unsubtly done.

Coming now to the spoilers, I think the whole predator / prey species stuff  is strange; anything capable of developing a civilisation is going to understand that brute physical combat strength is a poor way to settle disputes. In fact this could be an interesting question because I am interested in models of civilisation; but I think the model he presents is too unrealistic to be interesting. We do get the occasional: "you claim to be creatures of honour" - that std.trope - "and yet you keep doing these things that look distinctly sneaky; are you sure you're so different to us?" but he doesn't really explore this, instead he lets the aliens get off with "it may look sneaky to you but it wasn't really".

Book review: the Left Hand of God

Teenager grows up tough in brutal isolated commmunity¹, learning combat skills; with some buddies he runs away, gets treated as oik by disdainful aristos who reevaluate him when he saves them; and so on. You've heard it all before, of course; echoes of Red Sister and a hundred others. And yet I finished it, indeed I got perhaps two thirds of the way through with enthusiasm; as perhaps happens in real life, he didn't deal with good fortune as well as with bad.

Even in the early sections there are hints of problems that become more obvious later: there is a vast Sancturary, training religious warriors for a War Somewhere Else but who is supplying all the food and other material, indeed who is supplying all the people? Why do the nearby rulers not seem at all worried by a vast army being trained on their doorstep?

Anyway, Our Heroes run away to the nearby² Mediaeval city-state-empire. Our Hero's first - no, second; they also "rescue" the Chancellor by unbelievable coincidence - bit of luck is saving The Princess in the catacombs. But this is grotesquely jammed-in: she had no business being there, especially alone, and the book doesn't even attempt to explain the inexplicable; and it all goes downhill from there really; Our Heroes rise implausibly in this culture that despises them, and inevitably Our Hero gets off with³ the Princess but it's OK because they are mutually In Love. Finally the Order invades and defeats the city-state-empire, which throughly deserved defeat by having absolutely no scouts or border defences of any kind to give warning. This enables Our Hero to be captured by the Order, and detached from his Princess, as is presumably required for the tale in volume two, which I find myself unlikely to peruse.

The writing style is bland and the world itself somewhat flat, and careless. For example, at one point Our Hero and his Counsellor go off into the woods to a Retreat; a house. Yet it has no staff, no one to look after it; as though he just couldn't be bothered to write plausibility in; it's like it was in a video game, where the vegetation doesn't grow and the roof never needs mending or the linen cleaning. The great city-state of Memphis has no discernable structure or buildings of any interest. There's no real world, beyond our characters.

Notes

1. Of course, he ends up fundamentally good, and unscarred - mentally, if not physically - by this terrible upbringing, though he may actually turn out to the the anti-Christ in the next book, in case you care. Oddly enough, we-as-a-society don't believe this bad-upbringing-makes-you-resilient stuff; we rather think that it leads to poor character and criminality. Of course we might be wrong but I think I'd have liked the book to take some at least token consideration of this point.

2. Fairly nearby I think; I didn't to-be-honest pay much attention to how many days their travel took but they were on foot.

3. While all in favour of a bit of sex - preferrably somewhat more graphic that discovering that she is incredibly beautiful and has long legs - I'm again disappointed by the sheer... blandness? Carelessness? Lack of attention to detail? The culture is one that prizes their women; allowing them to be alone with an oik is not plausible; servants would have been omnipresent but are waved away; and so on.

Peaks: Stanage

Gosh, have we really not been since Peaks: Stanage and Froggatt at the end of March 2024? I fear not. This time it is simpler: off at 7, to Stanage in the morning - after a stop at the Outside cafe in Hathersage of course - lunch back in the cafe with a pause for E to buy new "light" walking boots / shoes¹, and D to buy new rock shoes. And then pm back to Stanage. We were fairly casual about it all and by no means pushing for as much climbing as possible; we had a long lunch hour and more than an hour's sunlight left when we headed home. One minor note: the Popular End carpark is now on RingGo. Unordered pix are here, but I didn't take many. This is all at or near Leaning Buttress.

Morning

GPS. We warmed up on Chockstone Direct S 4a, which I lead (it's the obvious line 2-3 m to the left of D in this pic). We would have done a VDish thing, had one been conveniently available, but S was a good grade to start as it turned out; E and D followed. Then D leads us up Armchair Buccaneer  HVS 5a, which again was a good choice. D has done very little trad leading, but the route takes friends and he managed to get them in, and with his reach and strength he had more margin on some of the sections I found close to my limits. E however found it a little beyond her limits. I notice that UKC votes it E1 5b.

Afternoon

GPS. D wanted something harder so top roped an E1 5b, Easter Rib, in his new shoes. E and I did the nice line of April Crack HS 4b and then Right-hand Trinity S 4b which has an awkward bulge at 2/3 height.

Here's D again, on his 5b, at the point where he has strayed a bit too far left off the rib onto a blank section. The woman in pale blue is in April crack; E is seen at the top belaying D. Hargreaves' Original VS 4c goes up the face further left. I slightly regret not trying that... maybe next time.

And then home; back around 9 after an uneventful drive.

Notes

1. For the low low price of £240, gadzooks.