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An excerpt from The Lost Tools of Learning by Dorothy Sayers:

The disrepute into which Formal Logic has fallen is entirely unjustified; and its neglect is the root cause of nearly all those disquieting symptoms which we have noted in the modern intellectual constitution. Logic has been discredited, partly because we have come to suppose that we are conditioned almost entirely by the intuitive and the unconscious. There is no time to argue whether this is true; I will simply observe that to neglect the proper training of the reason is the best possible way to make it true. Another cause for the disfavor into which Logic has fallen is the belief that it is entirely based upon universal assumptions that are either unprovable or tautological. This is not true. Not all universal propositions are of this kind. But even if they were, it would make no difference, since every syllogism whose major premise is in the form “All A is B” can be recast in hypothetical form. Logic is the art of arguing correctly: “If A, then B.” The method is not invalidated by the hypothetical nature of A. Indeed, the practical utility of Formal Logic today lies not so much in the establishment of positive conclusions as in the prompt detection and exposure of invalid inference.

And the conclusion:

We have lost the tools of learning—the axe and the wedge, the hammer and the saw, the chisel and the plane— that were so adaptable to all tasks. Instead of them, we have merely a set of complicated jigs, each of which will do but one task and no more, and in using which eye and hand receive no training, so that no man ever sees the work as a whole or “looks to the end of the work.”

A cogent case for reinstating the Trivium in education. Plus, the author, Dorothy Sayers is a super interesting person. She copywrote the most famous Guinness ads, wrote the slogan “It pays to advertise!”, wrote crime fiction, translated, hung out with as some of the Inklings, and translated The Divine Comedy.

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A few entries in the English to Essie dictionary:

Scoop: bey-doup
Dante the Dragon: bee-lah
Pine nut: ma-guck

Ess demonstrates the last one for us in this video. The middle one is because the dragon chases Ess and says “blah” at her. I’m starting to understand why parents have such an easy time understanding their kids.

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We sing “Belly Breathe” to Essie and she sings it back to us.

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Essie’s word for bug is “bugah” or I suppose “bug-ah” but those two sounds blend together so seamlessly, and she so rarely says it once, that you really get bugahbugahbugahbugah. So that’s anything small and colored dark. Most things requiring a pincer grip. “What’s that?” we ask. “Bugahbugah. BUGAHBUGAHBUGAH.” comes her reply.

The other day Ess had poppyseed bread, a few tiny pieces of it. She was just convinced it was filled with bugahs. She ate it anyway. We should be excited about knowledge transference? We should be concerned about her willingness to eat things which she believes to contain hundreds of tiny bugs? Both? Parenting.

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I’m walking through the mall, with Ess riding in the Björn, and her little left hand is holding mine. I realize she’s been holding my hand for five minutes straight. Her whale spout pony tail on the top of her head swishes back and forth as she looks around.

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I’m lying on the kitchen floor when Ess walks over and, uncharacteristically, lies down next to me, resting her head in the crook of my elbow, and just stares into my eyes for thirty seconds. Satisfied with what she saw, or what she communicated, she gets up and toddles away.

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It’s bedtime and dark. Ess finds her stuffed monkey as I pick her up and carry her to her room. She rests her head in the crook of my neck, and her tiny little cheek feels cool as she snuggles in. I pause in front of her crib, holding her, willing myself to somehow remember everything about this moment. I lay her down to sleep.

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Dante Fiero the dragon loves Yule Logs, televised or otherwise.

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