The above new URL forwards to . . .

http://m759.net/wordpress/?s=Correspondence .

Continued from  July 14, 2016 —

Symmetries and Correspondences in 1879 —

Symmetries and Correspondences in 1905 —

Today's host for a special political edition of CBS Sunday Morning
is Ted Koppel. Vocabulary review:

Koppel's appearance today was backed by the usual CBS Sunday Morning
sun-disk Apollo symbol. An Apollo symbol that some may prefer —

The Ninefold Square

See as well Correspondences.

Cube Bricks 1984 —

Related material —

Note the three quadruplets of parallel edges  in the 1984 figure above.

Further Reading —

The above Gates article appeared earlier, in the June 2010 issue of
Physics World , with bigger illustrations. For instance —

Exercise: Describe, without seeing the rest of the article,
the rule used for connecting the balls above.

Wikipedia offers a much clearer picture of a (non-adinkra) tesseract —

      And then, more simply, there is the Galois tesseract —

For parts of my own  world in June 2010, see this journal for that month.

The above Galois tesseract appears there as follows:

See also the Klein correspondence in a paper from 1968
in yesterday's 2:54 PM ET post. 

From my RSS feed yesterday —

Dorothy E. Smith, Groundbreaker in Feminist Sociology, Dies at 95.
NY Times obituary by Clay Risen / June 16, 2022 at 05:22 PM ET.

That obituary describes a background for Smith that makes her seem
like the fictional Enola Holmes, sister of Sherlock.

For her Sherlock, see . . .

Ullin Thomas Place (1924 – 2000): Philosopher and psychologist .

From Place's online bibliography —

Chomsky, N., Place, U. T., & Schoneberger, T. (Ed.) (2000),
"The Chomsky-Place Correspondence 1993-1994," in 
The Analysis of Verbal Behavior , 17 (1), 7-38. 
Download:  Chomsky, Place & Schoneberger (2000)
The Chomsky-Place Correspondence.pdf .

The word "correspondence" has, of course, a meaning of greater interest.

* Tonight's date, June 17, is the anniversary of "Nighttown" in Joyce's Ulysses .

" Whether correspondences were achieved by means of
wordplay, atavistic formal resemblances, or serendipitous
coincidences, the attendant metamorphosis of literary
material into Frye's own scripture could become tiresome:
'just another shake of the kaleidoscope.' " [Link added.]

— From p. 61 of "The Master of the Myth of Literature:
An Interpenetrative Ogdoad for Northrop Frye,"
by Nohrnberg, James C., Comparative Literature , 
Vol. 53 (1), pp. 58-82, Duke University Press, 
January 1, 2001.

From the previous post —

Lily Collins in a more recent mattress meditation —

See as well Plaid in this journal.

See also Good Friday 2003 … Continued .

"The 'one' with whom the reader has identified himself
has now become 'the listener, who listens in the snow';
he has become the snow man, and he knows winter
with a mind of winter, knows it in its strictest reality,
stripped of all imagination and human feeling.
But at that point when he sees the winter scene
reduced to absolute fact, as the object not of the mind,
but of the perfect perceptual eye that sees
'nothing that is not there,' then the scene,
devoid of  its imaginative correspondences,
has become 'the nothing that is.'"

—Robert Pack, Wallace Stevens:
An Approach to His Poetry and Thought.
New Brunswick: Rutgers UP, 1958.

From this journal on Saturday, August 6, 2011—

Comme de longs échos qui de loin se confondent
Dans une ténébreuse et profonde unité….

— Baudelaire, "Correspondances " (in The Flowers of Evil )

From the New York Times  philosophy column "The Stone" earlier that day—

"… a magnificent and colorful parade of disorganized and rhapsodic thoughts"

— Baudelaire

From Uncle Walt— (See yesterday's "Coordinated Steps")—

For a better organized, less rhapsodic parade, see Saturday's Correspondences.

Rosalind Krauss
in "Grids," 1979:

"If we open any tract– Plastic Art and Pure Plastic Art or The Non-Objective World, for instance– we will find that Mondrian and Malevich are not discussing canvas or pigment or graphite or any other form of matter.  They are talking about Being or Mind or Spirit.  From their point of view, the grid is a staircase to the Universal, and they are not interested in what happens below in the Concrete.

Or, to take a more up-to-date example…."

"He was looking at
the nine engravings
and at the circle,
checking strange
correspondences
between them."
— The Club Dumas,1993

"And it's whispered that soon
if we all call the tune
Then the piper will lead us
to reason."
— Robert Plant,1971

The nine engravings of
The Club Dumas
(filmed as "The Ninth Gate")
are perhaps more an example
of the concrete than of the
universal.

An example of the universal*–
or, according to Krauss, a
"staircase" to the universal–
is the ninefold square:

"This is the garden of Apollo,
the field of Reason…."
— John Outram, architect    

For more on the field
of reason, see
Log24, Oct. 9, 2006.

A reasonable set of
"strange correspondences"
in the garden of Apollo
has been provided by Ezra Brown
in a mathematical essay (pdf).

Unreason is, of course,
more popular.

* The ninefold square is perhaps a "concrete universal" in the sense of Hegel:

"Two determinations found in all philosophy are the concretion of the Idea and the presence of the spirit in the same; my content must at the same time be something concrete, present. This concrete was termed Reason, and for it the more noble of those men contended with the greatest enthusiasm and warmth. Thought was raised like a standard among the nations, liberty of conviction and of conscience in me. They said to mankind, 'In this sign thou shalt conquer,' for they had before their eyes what had been done in the name of the cross alone, what had been made a matter of faith and law and religion– they saw how the sign of the cross had been degraded."

— Hegel, Lectures on the History of Philosophy, "Idea of a Concrete Universal Unity"

"For every kind of vampire,
there is a kind of cross."
— Thomas Pynchon   
 

Online New York Times today



“With a little effort,

— Opening sentence of
Martha Cooley’s The Archivist

“Frere Jacques, Cuernavaca,
ach du lieber August.”

— John O’Hara, Hope of Heaven, 1938

One small step for me:

Sunday, November 03, 2002

One giant leap for mankind:

Date Posted: 11/03/02 Sun

For further details, see Crankbuster.

“The locomotive bringing a trainload of philosophers to Bologna hissed and ground to a standstill in the long Appenine dusk to have its headlamps lit and to be dressed in the standards of the city and the university.”

The train wreck at 12:50 pm local time (6:50 AM EST) Friday, Jan. 7, 2005, 25 miles north of Bologna.

A northbound freight train collided with a passenger train traveling south from Verona to Bologna.

From an essay on Davenport I found Friday morning, well before I learned on Friday afternoon (Eastern Standard Time) of the train wreck:

“A disciple of Ezra Pound, he adapts to the short story the ideogrammatic method of The Cantos, where a grammar of images, emblems, and symbols replaces that of logical sequence. This grammar allows for the grafting of particulars into a congeries of implied relation without subordination. In contrast to postmodernists, Davenport does not omit causal connection and linear narrative continuity for the sake of an aleatory play of signification but in order to intimate by combinational logic kinships and correspondences among eras, ideas and forces.”

Prize

This years’s Nobel Prize for literature goes to Elfriede Jelinek.

Related material:

1. No Pain, No Gain —
   on the film of Jelinek’s autobiographical novel about a masochist, The Piano Teacher
2. Charles Rosen —
   “When I was writing a review of Alban Berg‘s correspondence, I remarked to an elderly and very distinguished psychoanalyst that I was surprised by how many of Schoenberg’s students seemed to enjoy being so badly treated and humiliated by him. She replied, ‘I have no time to explain this just now, but I can assure you that there are a great many masochists and not nearly enough sadists to go around.'”
3. And so —
   The Wisdom of Ann Coulter

Miss Sauvé

Homily on Flannery O’Connor

for the Sunday following Corpus Christi Day, 2002:

The part of her fiction that most fascinates me, then and now, is what many critics referred to as “the grotesque,” but what she herself called “the reasonable use of the unreasonable.” [Flannery O’Connor, Mystery and Manners: Occasional Prose, Robert and Sally Fitzgerald, eds. (New York: Farrar, Straus, 1969)] 

 A modest example comes to mind. In a short story  ….  the setting sun appears like a great red ball, but she sees it as “an elevated Host drenched in blood” leaving a “line like a red clay road in the sky.” [Flannery O’Connor, “A Temple of the Holy Ghost” from A Good Man is Hard to Find (New York: Harcourt, Brace & World, 1971)] 

In a letter to a friend of hers, O’Connor would later write, “…like the child, I believe the Host is actually the body and blood of Christ, not just a symbol. If the story grows for you it is because of the mystery of the Eucharist in it.” In that same correspondence, O’Connor relates this awkward experience:

I was once, five or six years ago, taken by [Robert Lowell and Elizabeth Hardwick] to have dinner with Mary McCarthy…. She departed the Church at the age of 15 and is a Big Intellectual. We went and eight and at one, I hadn’t opened my mouth once, there being nothing for me in such company to say…. Having me there was like having a dog present who had been trained to say a few words but overcome with inadequacy had forgotten them. Well, toward morning the conversation turned on the Eucharist, which I, being the Catholic, was obviously supposed to defend. [McCarthy] said that when she was a child and received the Host, she thought of it as the Holy Ghost, He being the “most portable” person of the Trinity; now she thought of it as a symbol and implied that it was a pretty good one. I then said, in a very shaky voice, “Well, if it’s a symbol, to hell with it.” That was all the defense I was capable of but I realize now that this is all I will ever be able to say about it, outside of a story, except that it is the center of existence for me; all the rest of life is expendable. [Sally Fitzgerald, ed., The Habit of Being: The Letters of Flannery O’Connor (Vintage: New York, 1979) 124-125] 

….There is, of course, something entirely preposterous and, well, unreasonable, almost grotesque, about the Catholic doctrine of the Real Presence. We claim, with a perfectly straight face, to eat the body and drink the blood of the Eternal Word of God, the second person of the Most Holy Trinity who, according to some, shouldn’t even have a body to begin with. But therein lies precisely the most outlandish feature of the Eucharist: namely, that it embodies the essential scandal of the Incarnation itself.  

             — Friar Francisco Nahoe, OFM Conv.

From James Joyce

A Portrait Of The Artist As A Young Man

Chapter 3 :

Why was the sacrament of the eucharist instituted under the two species of bread and wine if Jesus Christ be present body and blood, soul and divinity, in the bread alone and in the wine alone? Does a tiny particle of the consecrated bread contain all the body and blood of Jesus Christ or a part only of the body and blood? If the wine change into vinegar and the host crumble into corruption after they have been consecrated, is Jesus Christ still present under their species as God and as man?

— Here he is! Here he is!

From The Gazette, Montreal,

of Sunday, August 20, 1995, page C4:

“Summer of ’69,” a memoir by Judy Lapalme on the death by accidental drowning of her 15-year-old younger brother:

“I had never tasted pizza until Jeff died.  Our family, of staunch Irish Catholic stock with more offspring than money, couldn’t cope with the luxury or the spice.

The Hallidays, neighbors from across the street, sent it over to us the day after the funeral, from Miss Sauvé’s Pizzeria, on Sauvé St., just east of Lajeunesse St. in Ahuntsic.  An all-dressed pizza with the hard hat in the centre….

I was 17 that summer and had just completed Grade 12 at Holy Names High School in Rosemont….

…. Jeff was almost 16, a handsome football star, a rebellious, headstrong, sturdy young man who was forever locking horns with my father…. On Friday, Aug. 1, Jeff went out on the boat… and never came back….    

The day after the funeral, a white Volkswagen from Miss Sauvé’s Pizzeria delivered a jumbo, all-dressed pizza to us. The Hallidays’ daughter,  Diane, had been smitten with Jeff and wanted to do something special.

My father assured us that we wouldn’t like it, too spicy and probably too garlicky. There could not be a worse indictment of a person to my father than to declare them reeking of garlic. 

The rest of us tore into the cardboard and began tasting this exotic offering — melted strands of creamy, rubbery, burn-your-palate mozzarrella that wasn’t Velveeta, crisp, dry, and earthy mushrooms, spicy and salty pepperoni sliding off the crust with each bite, green peppers…. Bread crust both crisp and soggy with tomato sauce laden with garlic and oregano. 

It was an all-dressed pizza, tasted for the first time, the day after we buried Jeff….

The fall of 1969, I went to McGill…. I never had another pizza from Miss Sauvé’s.  It’s gone now — like so many things.”

     Ten thousand places

AS kingfishers catch fire, dragonflies dráw fláme;
As tumbled over rim in roundy wells
Stones ring; like each tucked string tells, each hung bell’s
Bow swung finds tongue to fling out broad its name;
Each mortal thing does one thing and the same:
Deals out that being indoors each one dwells;
Selves—goes itself; myself it speaks and spells,
Crying Whát I do is me: for that I came.
Í say móre: the just man justices;
Kéeps gráce: thát keeps all his goings graces;
Acts in God’s eye what in God’s eye he is—
Chríst—for Christ plays in ten thousand places,
Lovely in limbs, and lovely in eyes not his
To the Father through the features of men’s faces.

   — Gerard Manley Hopkins, 1844-1889

American Literature Web Resources:

Flannery O’Connor

She died on August 3, 1964 at the age of 39.

In almost all of her works the characters were led to a place where they had to deal with God’s presence in the world.

She once said “in the long run, a people is known, not by its statements or statistics, but by the stories it tells. Fiction is the most impure and the most modest and the most human of the arts.”

Encounter – 02/17/2002:

Flannery OConnor – Southern Prophet:

… When a woman wrote to Flannery O’Connor saying that one of her stories “left a bad taste in my mouth,” Flannery wrote back: “You weren’t supposed to eat it.”

Etes-vous sauvé?