Reading in Exile

I'm never quite sure if the problem of evil is really a problem at all. The problem, of course, is that there is evil (or, for a more precisely posed problem, meaningless or unredeemed or pointless evil), but if there were a God as He has been classically understood (as all good, all powerful, all knowing, perfectly loving) then He would want to and be able to prevent evil, and so there should be no evil. Since there is evil, then by that fact we can know that there is no God. Evil is variously understood by different proponents of the problem--most often as suffering (or, better, meaningless suffering) or as any privation (any lack of something that ought to exist). There are certainly more sophisticated versions of the problem, such as the one posed by Ivan Karamazov in Dostoyevsky's The Brothers Karamazov . (Yes, that link leads to the Pevear and Volokhosky translation, and I defy anyone who asserts falsely that the Garnett translation is better.) On these more sophisticat...

You might think that this disqualifies me from calling myself a classic film aficionado, but up until last night I had never seen a French New Wave film. Recognizing my deficiencies and wishing to rectify them, I watched with my wife last night Francois Truffaut 's Les quatre cents coups (which is translated into English literally as The 400 Blows ), which I recommend to you all. My serious resolution to engage in the intellectual life dates to when I read The Stranger by Albert Camus. Meursault's disconnection from the reality that others so easily navigate, his estrangement from ordinary morality, the way in which he drifts, meaninglessly but more or less happily through life: all these impacted me immediately and in a way that has shaped my entire outlook since then. Ever I have felt the lurking absurdities of the world: I too could slay a man for no reason. Faith, reason, civilization, tradition are thin bulwarks, but bulwarks that must be defended, that I must defend,...