Wednesday, June 20, 2012

The Perfect Bible!

For years I have been searching for the perfect Bible translation. I have not found it yet, and am beginning to think I shall have to do it myself - learn to read Hebrew and translate the Old and New Testaments the way I think they ought to be rendered. Why is it so hard to find a translation, you might ask? It turns out I am rather - even perhaps unreasonably - picky. As might be suspected, I indeed have a list of characteristics I desire for the perfect edition; most concern the translation, but others concern the format of the printed volume. Regarding the former, I want a translation done in the Catholic tradition that a) is scrupulously accurate, b) is elegant, stately, and beautiful in style and tone, and c) uses the old familiar second person pronouns in the Psalms. Regarding the latter, I wish for a) leather binding, b) single column text, c) no headings, and d) the absolute bare minimum of explanatory notes, to say nothing of the largely useless cross-references (watch me eat my words on that last clause).

Obviously this dream Bible does not exist. What do I use in the meantime? Often I read my compact English Standard Version. Really, the only problems with it are a slight bias toward evangelical Protestant interpretations, and modern pronouns in the Psalms. Were there a Catholic edition of this Bible, I should probably buy it immediately. I also have a 1611 King James, which is lovely, my New American Bible, which I use for reading the deuterocanonical books (the translation is abysmal, and only rarely pretty), and a 1960s edition of the New American Standard for the Psalms, which I mix around with the ESV when I copy the Psalms into my psalter for future memorization (more on this project later - for now, I shall say only that Mr. Carey's example of memorizing one good poem per month as a moral maxim stuck with me quite strongly).

Why this strange assortment of Bibles? Why not just one acceptable translation? There are two reasons. First, I grew up hearing the language and cadences of the New American Standard. As a child I memorized several Psalms and now cannot quite bear any other translation of them save the Authorized and English Standard versions. Second, these Bibles lack Catholic editions. On the other hand, I have become quite the fan of the ESV for all but the Psalms, above exceptions notwithstanding. But since there is no Catholic edition, I must look elsewhere for the books Luther and Calvin cut from the Old Testament. Since my NAB was free, a present from my RCIA classes, I use it, albeit reluctantly. This situation is not the happiest, but I have precious few alternatives in the immediate future.

 I can see a few more open up in the future, though. I may soon be able to read Latin well enough to read the Vulgate unaided - surely a great gain. Perhaps even greater, I shall know Greek well enough to read the Septuagint and New Testament unaided. And perhaps greatest of all, maybe some day I shall learn Hebrew well enough to read the Tanakh. Thus armed with Latin, Hebrew, and Greek, a translation would be unnecessary. Were this to become the case, I could easily translate the whole of Sacred Scripture the way I like it, and even find someone to publish it. This is rather unlikely, however, since I am not, and likely shall not be, an academic (seven woes!). Rather, I shall likely struggle on till I find something better than the status quo. 

29 June Update: I found something almost perfect! My sister, a catechumen of the Church, wanted a Catholic Bible, and she discovered this one. It's lovely: beautiful brown leather, excellent typesetting, etc. It is a beautiful book, but the layout and translation make it almost the perfect Bible. For there are no subject headings  - like the inane "Jesus walks on water" variety. Some may find these helpful, but I do not; on the contrary, they are endlessly distracting and promote a superficial reading. And the translation is the 1965 Revised Standard Version, so it is in the King James tradition (leftover Protestant accent, I am aware) which I, through intense and early appreciation of the New American Standard, greatly appreciate. Stately language! Familiar pronouns in the Psalms! Accuracy! The only strike against it is that it divides long names in the tradition of the Blayney King James of 1769 (which drives me crazy). But a) it is far less prevalent than the monstrosity in the '69 KJV, and b) as far less noticeable, does not even approach becoming a comparable problem in light of the stupendous achievements.

A Bible I can use for personal reading and study for the rest of my life? Yeah, I found it. At Last.

Tuesday, June 19, 2012

Summer Reading List

Here is yet another summer reading list. My track record of actually working through these is abysmally wretched. I make these intricate, well-laid plans, and then immediately fail to carry them out. Why? I am horrifically lazy. Sloth has long been my deepest-rooted vice, and against such a strong habit only recently have I gained even the semblance of battle against it. So in the name of future victory, let the list below stand.

I have been accepted into Pontifical College Josephinum. I recorded my ecstatic reaction elsewhere, but the shock of realizing there are eight weeks before my departure has thrown me into a new frenzy of action. Seminary will be all formation, all the time, and I need to prepare for this. Obviously the best ways to prepare is to engage all the aspects of soul. So I study music, gymnastic, and liberal arts (i.e., philosophy in the classical sense) Present in this last pursuit is my overly ambitious list, in no particular order:

  • The Bible. Its presence here might be questionable, since I try (and sometimes succeed) to read it continually.
  • The Count of Monte Cristo. Of late I have been wondering a) if revenge is different than justice, b) if so how, and c) if revenge would be fulfilling. After this perhaps I'll reread the Oresteia with that question in mind.
  • The Dialogues. My first real solo foray into Plato. I hope to read as many of the sixteen shortest dialogues as I can. On deck now are the First and Second Alcibiades.
  • On the Socratic Education. Christopher Bruell's commentary on the sixteen shortest dialogues. His mind is both subtle and wondrous.
  • Introduction to Christianity. Cardinal Ratzinger (now Pope Benedict XVI) wrote a wonderful commentary on the Apostles' Creed, and it is written with a view towards the possibility of faith in the modern (i.e. 21st century) era.
  • Space Trilogy. I have heard enough of Lewis' science fiction/fantasy trilogy to make reading it a high priority.
  • The Beginning of Wisdom. Leon Kass wrote an outstanding commentary on the book of Genesis. His claim that it contains a doctrine of man's nature sufficient to rival any of the great thinkers (e.g. Plato, Aristotle, Rousseau, Nietzsche) is both provocative and captivating. After reading some of his essays on the so-called "war of the sexes", I bought this book at once. 
  • The Summa Theologica. I have, for obvious reasons, wished to carefully read St. Thomas' masterpiece for some time, but if I get halfway through the first part I shall count myself lucky. Plus, I really should read some more Aristotle (especially his Organon! it pains me that I've scarcely glanced at it) and his commentaries on Aristotle before full comprehension of the Summa is likely to emerge. 
  • Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance. A popular modern book. Perhaps it will help me understand my own decadent era better.
  • Blood Meridian. Cormac McCarthy is rapidly becoming a very highly respected author of mine, and his work is truly wrenching; describing, as few have done so, the death of God. 
There are probably a few more books I forgot to add, but these ten books will likely provide more than sufficient leisure to cover the following two months, especially if I write a brief essay about each of them here. Off then, to my library!