In a blog post which begins by mourning the sad death of a blogger called Zman, and then turns to theme of blogging in general, Professor Bruce Charlton has some nice things to say about this blog:
As an example of a recent example of the kind of blog post I like best; here is (non-famous) blogger Irish Papist; with a very personal and honest, free-associational development of ideas on the theme: Everything comes back to religion.As often said: writing is thinking (or it can be); and here you can sense IP thinking as he writes; and share his excitement at the insights as they emerge from the exploration.
I've been sampling Irish Papist on-and-off for several years - long enough to have decided he is a Good Bloke; and from this assumption I find that he produces a stimulating post every so often, that seems to set off associations and notions in myself.
Well! Not only did that please me greatly, but it may have been literally an answer to a prayer. This morning I asked God for something to happen, today, that would encourage me.
I first heard about Professor Charlton on Edward Feser's blog (which I still follow) and I then bought his book Thought Prison, about political correctness. (It can be read online here.) It's amazing how few books have been written about political correctness, even all these years later. Thought Prison actually took political correctness very seriously, instead of treating it as some kind of joke or freak. I've followed his blog on and off since then.
His thoughts on blogging are very interesting, and indeed timely. The Chesterton and Friends blog recently had a post mourning (or at least commenting on) the disappearance of most Chesterton blogs. Blogs seemed so terribly voguish not so long ago and they are already passé.
Professor Charlton says: "There has to be some kind of basic affinity with the blog persona - but especially with the person we infer behind that persona. I say infer, because we don't need to know much specifically about the blogger "in real life" - so long as what we do know is honest and unpretentious."
I personally think this is true, not only of blogging, but of all reading. The author's voice is what draws me.
I personally think this is true, not only of blogging, but of all reading. The author's voice is what draws me.
He goes on: "Blogging benefits from a careless attitude of freedom, and the ability to shrug-off those times when posts don't take-off or just don't gel."
Amen! The almost throwaway nature of blogging is something I cherish. Anything goes in the pot. I suppose its progenitor is the newspaper column, such as the "As I Please" column written by George Orwell, or the Keith Waterhouse columns I read as a kid (in book form), or "Cruiskeen Lawn" by Myles Na Gopaleen, which is legendary in Ireland. And Chesterton, of course.
Blogging is especially valuable for sidelights, or what I might call "second order" considerations-- for which I have an appetite which may be unhealthy. To take an example: I can't tune into a debate (whether a recent debate or one stretching from the dawn of civilization) without also getting interested in the debate itself, aside from the truth or falsehood of the issues at question. I get fascinated in the contours and dynamics of the debate.
Somebody once rebuked me for this, comparing me to the spirit in Lewis's The Great Divorce who is unwilling to enter Heaven because he would prefer to theorize forever. And I accept there is a danger of this.
But this interest in "second order" matters seems natural enough to humans. I remember being surprised, in my teens, when I would read Tory politicians' memoirs and find them to have a great affection for House of Commons customs, characters, and camaraderie. I'd rather assumed that Thatcherites would see Parliament as a sort of necessary evil, like government itself. I feel the same surprise when agnostics and atheists have opinions and preference about the Catholic Church or the Church or England. But I find this endearing rather than frustrating, myself.
