Customer Reviews

Climbing Parnassus: A New Apologia for Greek and Latin

5 star:		(12)
4 star:		(2)
3 star:		(0)
2 star:		(0)
1 star:		(2)

 

 

Having studied Latin (and a little bit of Greek, not nearly enough), I totally agree with his major argument that both Latin and Greek are worth studying for their own sake. This elegantly written and well-argued book is a first rate defense of the classics even though it "stands on the shoulders of giants." The intelletual history of humanism and classicism through the ages is worth the price alone, not to mention the terrific quotes he finds from avid classicists like Nock and CS Lewis (whose essay The Parthanon and the Optative was one of the highlights of the cited works). Although he could have been even more damning, I laughed out loud at how silly he makes some of our "modern" educational ideas look (as in "responding" to works we cannot possibly understand) -- more emphasis on the hard work and less on the "feel good" part of academia and our students would be a lot more capable. The central fact of the book is that even those who don't remember a word of Greek and Latin manage to keep and foster a lifelong appreciation for learning and an ability to understand and digest complex texts. This is one of the most cogent arguments for the classics that I've come across and should be mandatory reading for educational reformers who seem bent on dumbing down an already weak curriculum.

This marvelous book is a work of humanism in the best and most encompassing sense of the word. It is an "apologia" - which is not an apology but rather a plea - for Greek and Latin. However, it is not the study of these supposedly "dead" languages alone Tracy Lee Simmons advocates but rather what they stand for. If, in André Gide's words, "culture is what remains when all else is forgotten", Greek and Latin are formative rather than merely educational. They need no utilitarian "defense", no claim that they help to train logical thinking, facilitate the study of law, medicine or theology, or open the door to "modern" (and therefore more "useful") languages. Merely functional arguments miss the point.

Simmons' claim is more radical - and for some more "reactionary": If we treasure the culture most of us were raised in, and some of us still want to live in, if we hold our traditions to contain some of that "wisdom of the ages" Edmund Burke wrote about, if with Matthew Arnold we seek for "sweetness and light", we cannot but treasure the world of antiquity - the world without which we cannot truly understand ourselves. The "gradus ad Parnassum" on which Simmons leads us is not only about two languages nor is it dismissive of other cultures or traditions. It never compares, ranks or evaluates though it is certainly an antidote to the smuck version of modern multiculturalism. The book is a story born of love for the Western cultural heritage that cannot be reduced to the Greeks and Romans but would be nothing without them. It is also a potent poison pill for self-indulgent and simplistic Americanists who believe in the myth of a "new civilization" being born in the New World that no longer needs the Old. This very myth is, as users of one-dollar bills will know, itself expressed in elegant Latin and goes back to Virgil's "Eclogae" and beyond: "novus ordo seclorum". Classically educated persons, American or not, will object: "est constantia in rebus" - and yet there is continuity.

The study of Greek and Latin, Simmons argues, is its own reward, much as music and philosophy are. The languages are difficult to learn and require intellectual discipline; yet for more than two millennia people of all nations have grit their teeth and labored with them. Some still do, though fewer and fewer, and they are handsomely rewarded for memorizing paradigms and studying syntax. Their prize is the access to a wealth of meaning and a much deeper understanding of what has made us what we are. When, in Part Two of his book, Simmons recounts the history of classical learning through the Middle Ages, the Renaissance, and the Enlightenment to its flourishing in colonial and revolutionary America, he tells the story of a continuity the likes of which are unknown in any other culture - variations on a theme with a constant "basso continuo". One need not be a cultural conservative to appreciate and to want to protect this legacy. One needs only to desire understanding of oneself. But true and full appreciation of classical philosophy, literature, politics, science, and the arts is impossible without assimilating the languages in which they are clad and with which they are so intricately interwoven. This may be the author's strongest claim. More recent cultural achievements - from analytic philosophy to jazz and film - travel regardless of language. But the themes of freedom and dependence, gods and men, individuality and collectivism, truth and appearance, guilt and punishment, passion and jealousy, and the overriding theme of the good life, travel universally and best in the suits into which they were originally fitted. Though views may have changed, and indeed the variety of opinions on these issues was bewildering in antiquity itself, the languages provide the vessels of continuity for their travels. This is what Tracy Lee Simmons wants to communicate. This "doctor elegantiae" tells his story with such grace, style, erudition, and persuasion that this book is wonderful reading for anyone who cares about himself and the culture in which we live. And if, with Arnold, culture is "the study of perfection," Simmons' book is not only about culture and learning; it is an admirable example and piece thereof.

Simmons presents a compelling and beautiful case for the study of Greek and Latin. He forced me to realize that merely reading the Great Books in English translation will not suffice.

One small sample from Simmons' work is illustrative:

"Every lesson in Latin is a lesson in logic...Taking the simple two-word Latin sentence Vellem mortuos ("I would that they were dead"), ... this sentence aright requires fourteen intellectual turns. A student must know (1) the person, (2) tense, (3) voice, (4) number, (5) mood of the verb..., (6) it comes from volo, meaning (7) 'I wish'; and that (8) the subjunctive has here a particular shade of meaning. As to mortuos, he must know that it is (9) the accusative, (10) plural, (11) masculine, from (12) mortuus, meaning (13) 'dead'; (14) the reason why the accusative is necessary.... A student who slips up on any one of these steps is bound to make a lovely mess when he comes to translate... In Latin you must be absolutely right, or you are not right at all... Can anyone seriously maintain that such stiff training in just expression leaves no salutary marks upon the intellect of someone who, having successfully run its gauntlet, becomes captive to the habits of the precise mind?"

This book is profoundly inspiring, and an invaluable resource for those who desire to learn and those who desire to teach. Teachers would do well to heed Simmons' advice:

"Any lower school aspiring to help the intelligent children to be their best, to allow the smart to rise and reach heights undreamt of, will give full credit to those children for possessing minds capapble of great things. Children are to be sympathized with and respected, not coddled, nor are they to be humored. Their roads aren't always to be made smooth."

Simmons warns us that the ascent of Parnassus is not easy, but is so very worthwhile. He provided me with a glimpse of what I missed out on by not being Classically educated, and left me with a determination to ensure that my child IS Classically educated.

I cannot add much more to the great 5-star reviews here, except to say this book has given hope that even older adults can, and should, begin learning Greek and Latin immediately.

We were robbed of a true education. But that's no excuse not to try in a lifetime to finally read these classics in the original language. I was twelve years old when I first realized how cool it would be to read and hear ancient Greek. I was intimidated out of that fancy. Now I know the rest of the story.

Thank you for your precise and elegant prose, and--by the way--very readable book. It has been an inspiration, in all the true senses and history of that word.

The author humbly presents the lost art of education, namely language education. Simmons is able to richly articulate what was so special about classical education. It will make you feel so small even if you possess a Doctorate. His prose is very ornate just the example of what language study can do. He rightfully debunks multiculturalism and the over emphasis on usefulness in our current age. This book was a joy to read. I want to start my children on personal Latin study. Very much worth the climb--I hope educators get a copy.

Simmons has long been a defender of a concept that has recently been left by the wayside; education. In a world of soft standards, and self esteem driven educational goals, Simmons stands up for the things that matter.

Wonderful book. Well written. One of the best apologies for Latin and Greek (and being a Latin teacher I have read not a few).

The only reason it is only four stars is that the labor is too difficult (for mortals like myself). Simmons falls, I believe, into the Erasmian (and Kantian) error that the pains of the labor are the measure of the greatness. I have two words: Mozart and Shakespeare. The Muses give their gifts to whom they will. Erasmus' error is corrected by Josef Pieper in "Leisure. .", and although T.S.Eliot wrote the introduction to that book, he may have fallen somewhat into the same error. Nevertheless, it is an admirable error.

This brings me to the second point. No one will undertake such an enterprise. In the wide searches I've done in looking at various institutions, I have found none that come close to preparing one for climbing to Parnassus. Moreover, his model is very English in bent. There was another model on the main Continent that was far more felicitous, namely the Jesuits'. In the medieval tradition, they began teaching the young to speak Latin naturally. It is the answer that Dorothy Sayers was seeking for in her essay complaining how she studied Latin 20 years and never learned it. Moreover, the English method is the very method that likely killed Homer (though I have yet to read that book) and, I have some time maintained, killed the study of Latin (and Greek).

My suggestion is to speak Latin, starting as young as possible. The closest method is Oerberg, whom my own sixth grade students thoroughly enjoy.

That said, it is a wonderful book, a delight to read. I think students, starting in 3rd grade, should study Latin at least three hours a day (by speaking and reading, of course). When they have long mastered the idiom, then they can move on to the complexities of Cicero and the beauty of Virgil. For now, I am satisfied teaching Oerberg to sixth graders since most people think me crazy if I suggest we do away with (or lessen the part of) mind-numbing "subjects" to make way for a real training of the "animal having speech" (logos), as Aristotle defines it. To evolve from a mere chatterbox to an "animal having reason" (logos), requires difficult training. Nevertheless, even the most strenuous exercise, done the right way and to greatest effect, can be delightful.

Excellent apologia for Classical Education.
I could not put this book down! I read it twice in a week.
The second highlighting quotes and ideas I did not want to forget. (An suggested graduation gift for any new teacher.)

I am studying Latin Grammar this summer, as to be far enough ahead to teach my own child coming this fall. This book sparked my enthusiasm about the importance of what I am hoping to accomplish.

I too have found a new appreciation for the classics. I realized if I am going to read for pleasure it should be something worth reading!

--- I never realized how relevant a work written 235 years ago, "Common Sense" by Thomas Paine, would be today.....I have "Climbing Parnassus" to thank.

Simmons' book answers that nagging question, Is there really any reason to study Latin besides improving one's SAT scores? The answer is a resounding yes. This in-depth look at what traditional classical education meant and contributed for centuries is particularly useful for homeschooling families as a counterpoint to the more popular "neoclassical" approaches of Susan Wise Bauer, the Bluedorns, Doug Wilson/Logos School, Veritas Press, etc. In fact, by the end of the book, the nagging question has changed: Can any curriculum not based on the classical languages really be called classical at all? Highly recommended reading. Another top pick: Andrew Campbell's The Latin-Centered Curriculum, which is as practical (even including a scope-and-sequence component) as Climbing Parnassus is historical and theoretical.