Book 6, Letter 3 - On Sappho

 

Dear Cicero,

When my father died, he left me everything. Sorting through his possessions was to study his story, as told through the books, ornaments, tools and artwork he had kept until his final day. He also left me a DVD collection nearing 3,000 titles, plus several hard drives, and boxes of copied DVD's.

The collection, his legacy to me, tells a story of his generation, broadly, mixed with his childhood trauma, transformed through manhood into a quasi-religious worship of Peter Pan. I'll get into that later, but tonight, I want to read to you from one of his books, well, my book now.

The rise and fall of Athens, by Lord Lytton. (Published in 1874) The pages are uncut, and so, with each turn I must cut open the knowledge within, which I do with a letter opener my father left me, a miniature replica of Anduril, the sword of Aragorn from Lord of the Rings.

So Cicero, I'll share a reading from the book, on the subject of Sappho.

With Gratitude and Respect

Morgan.

 

 

Book 6, Letter 2 - Reading from the Speech: Pro Lege Manilia

 

Dear Cicero,

If you are well, then I am well, dear friend.

It's been a long time between letters, a year? I must admit that I have been writing to the living during this hiatus of our correspondence. I found a friend in a foreign land, a professor of history and religion at New Jersey University with whom I have developed a remarkable friendship. The story of our meeting is worth describing.

I finished reading everything Tacitus had written, and suddenly bereft, knowing that he was not going to release any new books, I discovered a 600 page book of essays concerning his work. (A companion to Tacitus, edited by V E Pagan). I devoured it, overjoyed to read so many different authors discussing one of my favourite authors (beside you of course, Cicero.) In this book I found an essay written by Prof Holly Haynes, author of The History of Make Believe. I loved her essay so much I wrote to her, praising her work. Scholars don't get much fan mail, so she was as surprised to receive my missive as I was to receive her reply.

A year later and our correspondence has continued unabated, sharing our passion for ancient literature as well as philosophy, art, drama and music. On her recommendations, and with her tutelage, I read The Oresteia trilogy, (translated by Anne Carson), The Lysistrata (two different translations, by Benjamin Rogers, 1952 and Ian Johnston 2010), Sappho (translated by Anne Carson), and On Tyranny by Xenophon, with an analysis by Leo Strauss and Alexandre Kojeve. More recently we have been studying Nietzche, this week I attended an online lecture/tutorial with her and a group of students and scholars discussing The History of Morals, from Beyond Good and Evil.  It's an interesting chapter, but I'll get to that later. 

Today, I wanted to share a reading from your speech Pro Lege Manilia, in support of Pompey.

With gratitude and respect

Morgan

Book 6, Letter 1 - To Rafael Roccisano

 

Hey Raf,

It was good to see you today, I mean, you weren't there, but I could see you well enough in the eyes of those you left behind. I'm sorry, I don't mean to rebuke you, we all make our choices, and you made yours, and we all have to live with it. So I guess that's where this starts, we do live with it and today we gathered in your name, on the jetty where we scattered your ashes, and just like on that day four years ago, we shivered in the freezing sunset wind and we spoke your name and watched the light fade out of the world.

We told some stories about you, I won't repeat them here, save to say that you were remembered for your kindness and generosity, among other virtues. We didn't speak much about your vices, we know them too well in ourselves to make banter of their tales, at least today. We drank beer and ate cheese and took a moment to reveal ourselves to one another, in your silent presence.

To recall the past, but also to revel in the present,

to celebrate our own continuance.

Each of us feeling your influence,

each of wishing we could have known more of you

if only you had known more of yourself and could have coped, somehow transmuted your pain into something, anything less burdensome that that black hole gravity that took you out of this world, beyond our horizons.

Tonight I met some of your other friends, people I had never met. They are beautiful and friendly and hearing them speak of you reminded me of all the love I had for you, which has not faded one lumen, not one candle has gone out, but rather I find that with the passage of time, I understand more about why I loved you. It was said tonight, that the price of love is pain, and it is a fair price.

It is midnight now as I write this letter to you, dear brother, tears tickle my eyes at the thought of you laughing, telling stories, shaking your head and smiling. We gathered in your name brother. Your crazy wisdom lives on in us.

Flowers gathered in the morning,

afternoon they blossom on,

still are withered by the evening,

you can be me when I'm gone.

                                                             Neil Gaiman (Sandman)

Rafael, we will be you, now you are gone.

I love you, I miss you.

With gratitude and respect

from your dear friends.