Literary Pasta

How many cans of SpaghettiOs would you need to purchase to be able to write the entire Lord of the Rings trilogy in their noodley alphabet?

What, you’ve never pondered that quandary? Well, now that the question has been posed, you may as well learn the answer.

The purveyor of this revelation is an online personality who analyzed the ratio of letters in cans of the SpaghettiOs A to Zs. He then devised a computer “program that converts books to SpaghettiOs.” [An inarguably valuable pursuit.]

It involved identifying the typical shapes of the pasta fonts.

Ah, to the solution to the puzzle. An individual seeking to replicate the Lord of the Rings would require 8,795 cans. The price would be slightly more than $2,000 and as a bonus, you would be left with more than eight million characters to devour.

Having labored to create the complex algorithms in his computer program, he has applied the versatile tool to other publications.

The King James Bible, for example, would demand 51, 214,669 cans to reproduce. At a price of approximately seventy-one billion dollars. [Editor’s note: the cost would probably be prohibitive, so don’t expect to see a physical attempt made in the near future.]

J.R.R. Tolkien was an extraordinary philologist. He loved languages, and he actually created more than one.

The creator of Middle Earth actually fashioned an alphabet for his Elven tongues. I have had my own name (by virtue of its meaning) rendered in Tengwar alphabet here.

Nevertheless, as inspired by linguistics and alphabets as he was, I doubt Tolkien would have been the least bit impressed by the canned pasta research.

In a 1956 letter, Tolkien described the process of completing his masterpiece for publication. I share the letter now, due to its reference to alphabets. However, due to its illuminating insight into the broader subject, I offer here a more extended rendition.

As ‘research students’ always discover, however long they are allowed, and careful their work and notes, there is always a rush at the end, when the last date suddenly approaches on which their thesis must be presented.

So it was with this book, and the maps. I had to call in the help of my son – the C.T. or C.J.R.T. of the modest initials on the maps – an accredited student of hobbit-lore. And neither of us had an entirely free hand.

I remember that when it became apparent that the ‘general map’ would not suffice for the final Book, or sufficiently reveal the courses of Frodo, the Rohirrim, and Aragorn, I had to devote many days, the last three virtually without food or bed, to drawing re-scaling and adjusting a large map, at which he then worked for 24 hours (6 a.m. to 6 a.m. without bed) in re-drawing just in time.

Inconsistencies of spelling are due to me. It was only in the last stages that (in spite of my son’s protests: he still holds that no one will ever pronounce Cirith right, it appears as Kirith in his map, as formerly also in the text) I decided to be ‘consistent’ and spell Elvish names and words throughout without k. There are no doubt other variations. . . .

I am, however, primarily a philologist and to some extent a calligrapher (though this letter may make that difficult to believe). And my son after me. To us far and away the most absorbing interest is the Elvish tongues, and the nomenclature based on them; and the alphabets.

My plans for the ‘specialist volume’ were largely linguistic. An index of names was to be produced, which by etymological interpretation would also provide quite a large Elvish vocabulary; this is of course a first requirement. I worked at it for months, and indexed the first two vols. (it was the chief cause of the delay of Vol iii) until it became clear that size and cost were ruinous.

Back to the noodle font. I doubt it Tolkien would have been impressed. What about his fellow Inkling, C.S. Lewis? What might he have said about the quantity of pasta-based “moveable type” required to reproduce Tolkien’s trilogy?

Allow me to take two simple words (out of context) from a letter he wrote in 1956. I think the Oxbridge don would have labeled the effort (and today’s post itself) “infinitely unimportant.”

Please forgive me if this sojourn into current trivia wasted your time. (But I hope, at least, that you enjoyed learning more about Tolkien’s linguistic and cartographic expertise.)

C.S. Lewis & Automobiles

I just read something funny about automobile commercials. This anonymous comment resonated with me, and may with you as well: “car advertisers grossly overestimate how much time I spend driving across the desert.”

It’s a versatile joke, since the final location is interchangeable. Despite the fact I live off a gravel road in the woods, they also grossly overestimate the time I spend summiting snowy mountains. Despite the “all wheel drive” in our two RAV4s,* I have no desire to race through dangerous or hostile environments.

Well, with one possible exception. I really enjoyed this entertaining advertisement from years ago. Trust me, watching this witty Jeep ad will be a worthwhile use of 31 seconds.

Cars are a ubiquitous presence in our world. In the States, getting a personal driver’s license is a traditional rite of passage for sixteen-year-olds. Even in many developing nations, automobile ownership is commonplace. While some urbanites consider the expenses associated with vehicles a foolish investment, most people find the alternative inconceivable. And, whether one owns, leases, rents, or borrows cars, having a driver’s license is a necessity.

That wasn’t always true. When my mother was learning to drive, the brakes went out on the car. She was so traumatized, she never drove again.

C.S. Lewis, on the other hand, had no interest in learning to drive. In fact, the brilliant Oxbridge professor was generally dismissive of automobiles. Presumably this did not carry over to his view of motorcycles, as his conversion while riding in brother Warnie’s sidecar attests.

On the Disadvantage of Traveling by Car

In his autobiography, C.S. Lewis declares “I number it among my blessings that my father had no car, while yet most of my friends had, and sometimes took me for a drive.”

The second half of the sentence makes ready sense. If our family lacks a car, it is fortuitous that generous friends compensated for its absence. But what could Lewis have meant by considering growing up without an automobile to be a “blessing?”

Fortunately, Lewis doesn’t leave us guessing—and his rationale provides a thought-provoking question. What might we sacrifice for the convenience of instantly accessible access to transportation that can carry us hundreds of miles in a handful of hours?

This meant that all these distant objects could be visited just enough to clothe them with memories and not impossible desires, while yet they remained ordinarily as inaccessible as the Moon.

The deadly power of rushing about wherever I pleased had not been given me [emphasis added].

I measure distances by the standard of man, man walking on his two feet, not by the standard of the internal combustion engine. I had not been allowed to deflower the very idea of distance . . .

The truest and most horrible claim made for modern transport is that it “annihilates space.” It does. It annihilates one of the most glorious gifts we have been given. It is a vile inflation which lowers the value of distance, so that a modern boy travels a hundred miles with less sense of liberation and pilgrimage and adventure than his grandfather got from traveling ten (Surprised by Joy).

This final idea of feeling adventure with modest travel opened my eyes to one of the “oddities” I experienced as a child. One year while I was young, my father was stationed overseas with the USMC, and my mother relocated us so we would be near her parents.

My grandparents had a practice that struck me, already a fairly well-traveled lad, as very strange. Each Sunday, after church, we would all pile into the family sedan and go for “a drive.” The cause for this special event was not to get from point A to point B. No, the purpose was simply to enjoy the simple experience of traveling. I don’t recall ever driving more than thirty miles from home, but setting out in random directions to savor the beauty of God’s creation did produce a unique type of satisfaction.

Human Perceptions of Distance

Distance can be considered in a variety of ways. We commonly think of distance in visual terms. Depth perception is made possible by binocular vision. Monocular (single eye) vision is poor at recognizing depths, although it can still be useful for comprehending distances and sizes. However, we are not reliant solely on our eyes.

An obvious alternative is found in the phenomenon of auditory distance perception. Not as efficient as its visual cousin, this medical article notes it does possess one significant advantage.

A normal-hearing person has an immediate appreciation of auditory space in the sense that orientation toward acoustic events is natural, rapid, and in general, accurate. Although spatial acuity is poorer by up to two orders of magnitude in the auditory than in the visual domain, the auditory world has the advantage of extending in all directions around the observer, while the visual world is restricted to frontal regions.

In “The Various Perceptions of Distance: An Alternative View of How Effort Affects Distance Judgments,” scientists discuss the even broader complexity of the subject.

Direct judgments of spatial relations are key to a variety of research domains, both inside and outside the discipline of psychology (e.g., spatial cognition, neuropsychology, exercise science, medical diagnosis, human factors). Thus, the lessons learned from this work have implications extending well beyond visual space perception.

Having noted there are psychological aspects of perceiving distances, I recommend QGIS. QGIS is a free, open source, cross-platform application which supports viewing and editing of geospatial data. It’s actually less complicated than it may sound, and a quick look at their “lesson” on “Spatial Thinking” is extremely informative.

“There are three fundamental concepts of spatial analysis: space, location, and distance.” Each of these perspectives includes absolute, relative and cognitive dimensions. It is the cognitive aspect that most fascinates me and, I sincerely believe, intrigued C.S. Lewis.

Absolute distance is a physical unit of measure, for instance, the number of miles between downtown Houston and downtown Toronto. Relative distance is calculated measuring distance, using metrics such as time, effort, or cost. For instance, the distance of two cities may be 2000 miles apart, which is an absolute description of distance, becomes the distance of two cities measured in tanks of gas, or mileage charge.

Last, let’s discuss the cognitive perception of distance. This refers to an individual’s perception of how far things are apart. For instance, to some, driving 200 miles between Houston and San Antonio Texas is a reasonable drive. However, for others, a 200 mile drive may seem like a very, very far distance to travel if they are not used to traveling such a distance regularly.

This final example, of the varying perceptions of distance by people with different experiences is precisely what Lewis identified in Surprised by Joy.

The truest and most horrible claim made for modern transport is that it “annihilates space.” It . . . is a vile inflation which lowers the value of distance, so that a modern boy travels a hundred miles with less sense of liberation and pilgrimage and adventure than his grandfather got from traveling ten.

Perhaps the Most Significant Matter of Distance

An article entitled “Closest Proximity And Infinite Distance” discusses Lewis’ insight into matters of distance. The author includes the following passage from Lewis’ Letters to Malcolm.

I fully agree that the relationship between God and a man is more private and intimate than any possible relation between two fellow creatures. Yes, but at the same time there is, in another way, a greater distance between the participants.

We are approaching—well I won’t say “the Wholly Other,” for I suspect that is meaningless, but the Unimaginably and Insupportably Other. We ought to be—sometimes I hope one is—simultaneously aware of closest proximity and infinite distance.

Once again, we witness C.S. Lewis’ brilliance. An awareness of both our Lord’s proximity to us and the vast distance between Creator and humankind, is a fundamental truth of Christian faith. And, here I will be bold in love, if either element is lacking in your personal relationship with God, I strongly encourage you to pursue such a balance.


* Lest anyone think we are extravagant, the “new” car is a 2013, and its older garage-mate is a 2004, complete with a manual transmission.

Legal & Illegal Fonts

One contemporary challenge to democracy in the United States is judicial activism. This is the term for jurists who mistakenly think they are in the legislative branch of the American government.

While too many Courts pursue this unconstitutional path, it is refreshing to see one federal Court actually “legislating” within its actual purview.

The District of Columbia Circuit of the United States Court of Appeals has mandated which fonts can and cannot be used for court documents. The National Law Journal says the official shunning of the Garamond font has set “lawyers abuzz.”

The Court—quite correctly—notes that serif fonts are much more legible than sans serif fonts like Arial.

But that has not saved Garamond, which appears slightly smaller than some other serif fonts. Apparently the fact that all documents must also be printed in a 14 point size does not adequately compensate for the difference.

If you would like to read the formal notice you can find it here.

Consistent with the Court’s magnanimity, while briefs “must be set in a plain, roman style,” they will graciously allow “italics and boldface [to] be used for emphasis.”

C.S. Lewis had a proper respect for the legal system. How could it be otherwise for a man whose own father was a solicitor? Yet one wonders what Lewis would have thought about this strict new requirement in the colonial Courts.

Counting Our Blessings

Since the Court has spoken on the matter of fonts, the question must be settled. After all, to whom could it be appealed?

However, we should be grateful that they have limited their judicial caprice to barring sans serif fonts. After all, they could have reinstated Court Hand.

The various forms of writing in which English medieval documents . . . are preserved to us are all derived from an increasingly current writing of the same script which . . . are known to us collectively as Court Hand, that is the writing of the Courts. (Palaeography and the Practical Study of Court Hand).*

Yes, I realize Court Hand dates back to the medieval era, and reinstating it in contemporary American courts would seem asinine on its face, but that certainly doesn’t make it implausible in our current judicial milieu.

C.S. Lewis appreciated the quality of Court Hand. In 1943 he wrote a letter to Gerald Hayes (1889-1955), who was Chief Cartographer for the Admiralty. Hayes had provided some maps for one of C.S. Lewis’ favorite authors, E.R. Eddison. Two of these maps can be found at Inventing Imaginary Worlds.

Hayes gifted C.S. Lewis with a copy of one of these illustrations. Lewis responded with an invitation to visit the Inklings, appreciation for the unique “treasure,” and a compliment about Hayes’ skillful handwriting.

You must come & [visit] our little confraternity if you ever are in Oxford & receive in person my repeated thanks for what is one of my notablest treasures. It has given me again what I have not had for years & years, the old pleasure in a ‘present.’ I wish I could write either modern or court hand as you do!

Fortunately, we live in a digital age when we need not labor to replicate ornate fonts. We can simply add them to our computers and voilà, there they are. In case the Courts resume such a requirement, you may want to add a Court Hand font to your computer today. Even if you do not anticipate being involved in litigation, and simply enjoy elegant fonts, you can find a free copy here.


* You can download a free copy of this book—which belongs in every writer’s library—from the Internet Archive.

And, here is a handy reference sheet for the next time you need to decipher court hand.

The Purpose of Punctuation

punctuation personalitiesWordsmiths love wordplay.

In fact, they love to toy with everything related to language, including punctuation. The entertaining illustration to the left was created by Carrie Keplinger and inspired me to produce my own supplement to her study.

The idea behind the graphic is to play on the meaning of different punctuation symbols and describe the type of personality they represent.

I took the notion a step further, and based some of my psychological diagnoses on the appearance of the images themselves. I also fudged a bit and included a couple that are common symbols, albeit not punctuation.

In the past I’ve shared here my fascination with fonts. This extends to pictographic languages like Egypt’s hieroglyphs. Consider this example:

horus

One may not know this particular image is associated with the Egyptian god Horus, but it’s immediately apparent it represents a familiar part of human anatomy.*

If you find the subject of hieroglyphics interesting, you may enjoy reading this article I recently discovered. The author briefly compares the thought of C.S. Lewis with that of the ancient philosopher Plotinus. He writes:

The Hieroglyphs are visible mirrors of the invisible, to use Jean-Luc Marion’s language, the recognition of which brings immediate awareness and experience of meaning rather than strict syllogistic definition. For Lewis, “thinking along” cannot be reduced to concepts.

For Plotinus, Nature cannot be reduced to analysis. As Marion says, when faced with the visible mirror of the invisible one must look beyond the physical and experience the infinite gaze. Although the sunbeam is a physical reality I think it is a great example of “looking along” because it stirs us up to contemplate Beauty itself. Indeed God is Beauty for Lewis and for Plotinus (though not the Christian God for the latter).

Returning to the Subject of Punctuation

Punctuation is a fundamental tool of writers. And, like the broader subject of grammar, it is incumbent on us to do our best to use it properly.

“Improper” usage is not necessarily wrong, however. On numerous occasions we may intentionally make an “error” to achieve a specific purpose. Or, we may object to certain conventions and challenge the ever-evolving status quo. For example, I avoided unnecessarily capitalizing “internet” long before it became acceptable. I also dropped the hyphen from email, etc. prior to that becoming fashionable.**

Naturally, when we are seeking publication of our work, we need to conform to whatever stylistic standards the venue follows. However, in our “personal” writing, I long ago learned there is no value in being enslaved to “official” literary conventions. After all, these seemingly rigid rules themselves are fluid, shifting with ever more frequent speed.

I began with the declaration that lovers of words inherently enjoy wordplay. I certainly do. One evidence of that is found below, in my supplemental list to the chart at the top of this column.

Immediately upon reading “punctuation social personalities,” my own mind, unbidden, began to consider additions. A moment later I had pen in hand, and the rest is history.

Belated Warning: You may experience a similar irresistible response. 

punctuation personalities 2

_____

* A variation of the eye of Horus is actually found on American currency . . . at the peak of the pyramid that adorns the one dollar bill. (It’s officially called the “Eye of Providence,” but its association with the pyramid makes that title rather unconvincing.) It is actually reproduced on America’s money because it is found on the reverse of Great Seal of the United States. Yes, it’s portrayed on the hidden side of the extremely familiar eagle clutching an olive branch and arrows that we see all of the time.

** I’m not suggesting I am a trendsetter . . . merely that I anticipated the eventual elimination of these superfluous elements early on. Well, it’s due to that prediction combined with my own typographical prejudices, such as disliking the over-hyphenation of the English language.

Generalizations (& Those Who Criticize Them)

“That’s the worst of girls,” said Edmund to Peter and the Dwarf. “They never can carry a map in their heads.”

“That’s because our heads have something inside them,” said Lucy. (C.S. Lewis, Prince Caspian).

It seems that if an author wishes to alienate vast swaths of readers today, they need do no more than “generalize.” Thus, C.S. Lewis has received unjust criticism due to some passages such as this.

To make a judgment such as Edmund’s leaves unmentioned the implied fact that there are, indeed, many useful things that are manifestly present in the heads of girls. But this example of difficulty in reading maps refers to a common perception . . . and if you’ve never heard it voiced before you read it here, you have led a shockingly sheltered life.

No one believes that there are no women capable of defeating even well-trained men in rigorous navigational competitions. Likewise, I have no doubt there are many gifted female cartographers. But please reseal the tar barrel and restuff the pillows; Lewis’ use of this dialog is not intended to be offensive!

I long for the days when a reader gave the writer the proverbial “benefit of the doubt.” A time when our assumption was that they meant something other than the meaning which offended us . . . or, at least, that they intended no malice.

I can’t speak for the rest of the world, but in most of the United States, such days of literary curtesy are long behind us. Today we often read things with an eye to finding the “problem” (ignorance, prejudice, or political viewpoint foreign to our own).

My wife and I attempted to raise our children with critical minds. (Critical in the best sense of the word.) We taught them that there are absolute truths. We informed them that, while people are entitled to hold to all sorts of notions and beliefs, that fact does not make the contending concepts “true.”

At the same time, we did our best to teach our children to respect others. To recognize that all human beings are created in the image of God. To understand that not even the basest man or woman is beyond redemption and restoration.

One practical element of this education in basic virtues took the shape of an adage we taught our kids. I’m sure others have advised this throughout history, and that many have voiced it far more eloquently, but we simply said: Judge everyone and everything by their best cases, rather than their worst.

In practice, this would mean that when a teenager compliments his dad on his wisdom, the dad does not immediately assume his prodigy is attempting to manipulate him. Now, further conversation and “investigation” may certainly prove that manipulation is indeed the goal, but it should not be the very first suspicion of the father.

As a pastor, one of your greatest challenges (and joys) comes in the pulpit. One major difficulty is discussing some extremely complex subjects in a relatively brief period of time. Pastors sometimes lapse into a sort of theological shorthand—which can be confusing or troubling to those unfamiliar with the underlying presuppositions. Taken out of context, individual statements may sound strange, or even heterodox.

I have always encouraged the members of my congregations and (especially) visitors to specifically ask me about what was meant by any statement or phrase that left them uneasy. It is no exaggeration to say that 98% of the time, that has cleared the air in and of itself, as I’ve had an opportunity to elaborate and clarify. (Of course, the other 2% of the occasions constitute a second pastoral “joy.”)

It saddens me when I hear people berate C.S. Lewis for a handful of passages that critics deem to be misogynistic or racist. They fail to extend toward him the goodwill he strove to offer to others. Most of these very few passages can simply be explained by the age in which he lived. It is disingenuous to judge by today’s standards someone who died a half century ago.

Like Lewis’ peers (and, in fact, all human beings), on occasion Lewis himself generalized. Let those who have never done the same cast the first stone. I confess that I’m guilty of it. In fact, returning to the quotation with which we began, I could most definitely echo Edmund’s words in reference to my wife. Ironically, they would be utterly inaccurate in reference to my daughter. For many years she was my “official navigator” as our family often drove across country (relying upon those seven foot by seven foot paper maps that are nearly impossible to refold.)

So, in my own nuclear family I’m batting .500 in terms of the accuracy of this generalization. The next generation may decide. Four of my six grandchildren are girls, and since the oldest girl just turned five, it’s about time to set them out in the woods with a map and a compass to see how they do!