Today I visited Fortaleza’s fish market and a few other sights. Fish markets have always fascinated me; I remember making a point of seeing Tokyo’s the last time I was there in 2014. In Fortaleza, the selection revolves around different types of local fishes, lobster, octopus, and a few other things. The arrangement is very simple: buyers purchase what they want, then sit at the tables near the market. For a nominal fee, the food is cooked and served up to you on the spot.
I have been in the city of Fortaleza for two days, and wanted to explore some of the surrounding sights. This is my first time in the northern part of Brazil, and I had heard for a long time how beautiful the beaches were here. They did not disappoint.
In this podcast, we discuss a reader’s email asking about the differences between courage and recklessness. What are the parameters? And how do we know when we have gone too far?
We then close with more G Manifesto tweet readings.
In 1773 Samuel Johnson and his friend James Boswell made a journey through some of the more remote parts of Scotland. Each of them wrote his own account of the journey, and I am currently absorbed in reading Johnson’s impressions in his Journey to the Western Islands of Scotland. As always, he stimulates and fascinates: his eye for detail is superb, and like the best of writers he combines wit, dry observation, and philosophic pronouncements.
Anger is an insidious thing. It can twine and wind its way around the soul, like ivy over some physical impediment, and slowly throttle our more beneficent instincts. This creeping control does not happen all at once; it happens gradually, imperceptibly, one gradus at a time. When speaking to someone on the phone, I often find my voice gradually rising with a surplus of emotion. You can barely notice it happening, but it happens still. Anger then finds a ready opportunity to intrude itself. Anger is also deceptive: it makes us believe we are taking action to solve some problem, when in fact we are doing nothing to solve the problem. Anger is a liar. He is a deceiver.
In 1906 Jack London visited Hawaii as part of his epic journey across the Pacific. There he encountered surfers for the first time, and learned the sport. His observations and impressions were recorded in a chapter of his book The Cruise of the Snark, and remain fascinating to this day. We read passages from this chapter, and discuss.
Yahya Ibn Khalid (يحيى بن خالد) was an influential figure during the tenure of Abbasid caliph Harun Al-Rashid. We do not know the precise date of his birth, but he was the son of Khalid Ibn Barmak, a member of the powerful Persian family known as the Barmakids. The third Abbasid caliph, Al-Mahdi, tasked Yahya Ibn Khalid around 778 A.D. with the education of his son Harun. Yahya must have perceived the seeds of greatness in the young Harun, for he tried to convince the fourth Abbasid caliph Al-Hadi to elevate Harun to a high position of leadership. This was a mistake. Al-Hadi had his own son in mind for the position, and so tossed Yahya into prison; but Fate would eventually smile on Yahya.
“Monstrous and inconceivable” was how Jack London described the conception and construction of his yacht Snark, the vessel on which he planned to sail around the world. The construction was beset by delays, cost overruns, and incompetence. London fought through the obstacles, even teaching himself celestial navigation while en route to Hawaii. This podcast describes his thoughts on building it, his problems and obstacles, and the true spirit of discovery. We then close with some tweet readings from the G Manifesto.
The Latin poet Claudian lived from about 370 to 404 A.D. He was born in Egypt but as an adult associated himself with the imperial court at Rome. One of his more famous works is the unfinished epic “The Rape of Proserpina” (De Raptu Proserpinae). The poem contains a short prologue which I have translated as follows:
Continue reading
Pliny the Younger described in one of his letters a story noted both for its sadness and its revelatory quality on a characteristic of human nature. The letter was written to the poet Caninius Rufus (IX.33), and in it Pliny recounts extraordinary interactions between a boy and a dolphin. I am not quite sure whether the word “friendship” would be appropriate in this context, but one could say that the relations between the two looked very much like this.
Continue reading
Quintus Curtius 
You must be logged in to post a comment.