The Value of Education
Unless you are Bill Gates, you might have to admit that a friend of mine has done very well when it comes to piling up treasures here on earth. He has difficulty spending all he earns and, to make matters worse, he has a thrifty, sensible wife who really isn’t spending a fraction of what should be expected of your average dedicated homemaker. Please remember this, because we will attempt to tie it in later.
You have heard me say that for a few precious moments almost every morning I place a red bound volume on my knees and read at random from the encyclopedia. This morning I noticed that, outside of being tagged with an $18,000 campaign fund scandal so typical of his ilk, the 1970 edition gave President Nixon a review that, by today’s standards, would make him look like Washington or Lincoln.
And a few days ago I learned that 'Verner von Heidenstam was a Swedish poet who won the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1916. Strindberg called Heidenstam Sweden’s most unintelligent man. The name Heidenstam only attracted my attention because Nils Heidenstam is the hero in one of my favorite Harlequin Romances. The author needed an aristocratic Swedish name, and it was not by chance that she employed Heidenstam in her bodice ripper.
My particular well-worn volume happens to be in Dutch, and I like it because it is set on the same rocky coast in Sweden where I went to dances 45 years ago. I hope that you do not know that by definition contemporary bodice rippers feature unrestrained romantic passion, and a heroine who initially dislikes and actively resists the hero's seduction, only ultimately to be overcome by desire. We read that the term bodice ripper derives from the covers of the books, which generally depict a female whose bodice being ripped by a muscular, often shirtless man.
For the record, 45 years ago very little muscle or ripping was necessary in Sweden.
In case you tuned in late, for years I have maintained that a carefully selected Harlequin Romance is a much more suitable text for high school language classes than Caesar's memoirs, although I would yield to Plutarch on Cicero. My favorite Harlequin Romance is in French, it is funny, it is written to be understood by anyone with a grade school vocabulary, and there is not one word or incident in it that could not be read to a Baptist congregation or a girl scout troop.
Anyway, the other day I mentioned to my friend, who worships at the shrine of Mammon, that I was tickled to discover that an author who used the name Heidenstam in a Harlequin Romance got the name from a 1916 Nobel prize winner. And, as always, he asked me, “Did it make you any money?”
I had to admit that it didn’t. But every day I derive a certain satisfaction in being able to read my junk email in 7 languages.
You have heard me say that for a few precious moments almost every morning I place a red bound volume on my knees and read at random from the encyclopedia. This morning I noticed that, outside of being tagged with an $18,000 campaign fund scandal so typical of his ilk, the 1970 edition gave President Nixon a review that, by today’s standards, would make him look like Washington or Lincoln.
And a few days ago I learned that 'Verner von Heidenstam was a Swedish poet who won the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1916. Strindberg called Heidenstam Sweden’s most unintelligent man. The name Heidenstam only attracted my attention because Nils Heidenstam is the hero in one of my favorite Harlequin Romances. The author needed an aristocratic Swedish name, and it was not by chance that she employed Heidenstam in her bodice ripper.
My particular well-worn volume happens to be in Dutch, and I like it because it is set on the same rocky coast in Sweden where I went to dances 45 years ago. I hope that you do not know that by definition contemporary bodice rippers feature unrestrained romantic passion, and a heroine who initially dislikes and actively resists the hero's seduction, only ultimately to be overcome by desire. We read that the term bodice ripper derives from the covers of the books, which generally depict a female whose bodice being ripped by a muscular, often shirtless man.
For the record, 45 years ago very little muscle or ripping was necessary in Sweden.
In case you tuned in late, for years I have maintained that a carefully selected Harlequin Romance is a much more suitable text for high school language classes than Caesar's memoirs, although I would yield to Plutarch on Cicero. My favorite Harlequin Romance is in French, it is funny, it is written to be understood by anyone with a grade school vocabulary, and there is not one word or incident in it that could not be read to a Baptist congregation or a girl scout troop.
Anyway, the other day I mentioned to my friend, who worships at the shrine of Mammon, that I was tickled to discover that an author who used the name Heidenstam in a Harlequin Romance got the name from a 1916 Nobel prize winner. And, as always, he asked me, “Did it make you any money?”
I had to admit that it didn’t. But every day I derive a certain satisfaction in being able to read my junk email in 7 languages.
posted by The humble Farmer at 2:13 PM
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