/lit/ - Literature

Who else here enjoys reading Thomas Browne?
>“It is the heaviest stone that melancholy can throw at a man, to tell him he is at the end of his nature; or that there is no further state to come, unto which this seems progressional, and otherwise made in vain. Without this accomplishment, the natural expectation and desire of such a state, were but a fallacy in nature; unsatisfied considerators would quarrel the justice of their constitutions, and rest content that Adam had fallen lower; whereby, by knowing no other original, and deeper ignorance of themselves, they might have enjoyed the happiness of inferior creatures, who in tranquillity possess their constitutions, as having not the apprehension to deplore their own natures, and, being framed below the circumference of these hopes, or cognition of better being, the wisdom of God hath necessitated their contentment: but the superior ingredient and obscured part of ourselves, whereto all present felicities afford no resting contentment, will be able at last to tell us, we are more than our present selves, and evacuate such hopes in the fruition of their own accomplishments.”

>>21716281
Thomas Browne- Urne Buriall

What languages should an educated European know?

Has /lit heard of Urne Buriall?

anyone here urn burial-pilled? This man was a gift from the heavens

I've just stumbled up on Thomas Browne who was described as having a unique prose which made me wonder about other writers whose style would be described unique. What's interesting about Browne is that his style came about from his wife learning in both scientific and religious fields along with foreign languages. I suppose this is probably true of likewise writers, their uniqueness comes from combining varied fields . Provide an example if you can too:

"But man is a Noble Animal, splendid in ashes, and pompous in the grave, solemnizing Nativities and Deaths with equal lustre, nor omitting Ceremonies of bravery, in the infamy of his nature. Life is a pure flame, and we live by an invisible Sun within us."

>The heart of man is the place the devil dwells in; I feel sometimes a hell within myself.

>Oblivion is not to be hired. The greater part must be content to be as though they had not been, to be found in the register of God, not in the record of man. Twenty seven names make up the first story before the flood, and the recorded names ever since contain not one living century. The number of the dead long exceedeth all that shall live. The night of time far surpasseth the day, and who knows when was the Æquinox? Every hour adds unto that current arithmetick, which scarce stands one moment.

>Darkness and light divide the course of time, and oblivion shares with memory, a great part even of our living beings; we slightly remember our felicities, and the smartest strokes of affliction leave but short smart upon us. Sense endureth no extremities, and sorrows destroy us or themselves.

>To ruminate upon evils, to make critical notes upon injuries, and be too acute in their apprehensions, is to add unto our own tortures, to feather the arrows of our enemies, to lash ourselves with the scorpions of our foes, and to resolve to sleep no more.

>When I take a full view and circle of myself without this reasonable moderator, and equal piece of justice, death, I do conceive myself the miserablest person extant. Were there not another life that I hope for, all the vanities of this world should not entreat a moment’s breath from me. Could the devil work my belief to imagine I could never die, I would not outlive that very thought. I have so abject a conceit of this common way of existence, this retaining to the sun and elements, I cannot think this is to be a man, or to live according to the dignity of humanity. In expectation of a better, I can with patience embrace this life; yet, in my best meditations, do often defy death.

>>16583908
Reminds me of this passage from Thomas Browne which I've found useful when thinking about the same thing.
>For there is in our soule a kind of Triumvirate, or Triple government of three competitors, which distract the peace of this our Common-wealth, not lesse than did that other the State of Rome
>As Reason is a rebell unto Faith, so passion unto Reason: As the propositions of Faith seeme absurd unto Reason, so the Theorems of Reason unto passion, and both unto Reason; yet a moderate and peaceable discretion may so state and order the matter, that they may bee all Kings, and yet make but one Monarchy, every one exercising his Soveraignty and Prerogative in a due time and place, according to the restraint and limit of circumstance. There is, as in Philosophy, so in Divinity, sturdy doubts, and boysterous objections, wherewith the unhappinesse of our knowledge too neerely acquainteth us.

>>13889073
I would read it all but I'd rather read frivolous poetry and prose inspired by the bible and Ovid and shit instead. The bible is cool, but has tons of weird ritual instruction shit in it, which, while beautiful, is quite boring. I prefer idiosyncratic allusions.

Is the polymath death? Literally why are all people specialists today it is so fucking boring. Take anyone out of their specialty and they are all tasteless braindead boring retards that cant think independently and are all sucked in to the current hegemonic patterns of thought. I hate this shit. There have been no great people that were specialists, all great people were polymaths. Society is becoming like ants, everyone is a specialized drone.

Why don't any polymaths exist today?

>>3190297

If it's a discussion on subjects like hermeneutics or some creative discourse that is actually worth talking about.

And we really don't like seeing the word "pleb" here, so please leave that childish sensibility for the other boards.

A not retarded question is why did NYRB Classics decide to publish Religio Medici and Urne-Buriall as one volume?

Hey /lit/, I'm looking for a certain book, but unfortunately I can't remember the title or the author. It's a 16th or 17th century English book, a Christianity-oriented encyclopedia of sorts, woefully incomplete, stopping after the first or second volume at the letter C or so. If anyone has any idea what I'm talking about, I'd appreciate some help, as it seemed like something interesting.

Here is a picture of Thomas Browne, who I thought might have been the author, but does not seem to be.

"Few people love the writings of Sir Thomas Browne, but those who do are of the salt of the Earth."
Virginia Woolf

Any on lit?

Anything by Thomas Browne.