The focus of this booklet is on the method of teaching. Mr. Crotty goes through the timeless and time-tested Jesuit philosophy of education and applies it to homeschooling. He has put together an outline that could be successfully applied to any curriculum. The ideas will be especialy helpful for parents who are homeschooling their teens, but it is useful to consider such important goals even when our children are very young.. Although it's a short booklet, the reading is rather heavy. I think you'll find it well worth the effort. Mr. Crotty recommends that reading The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius will make the booklet much more understandable. He recommends the translation by Anthony Mottola which is published by Image Books. The booklet lends itself to group discussion - and such a discussion would help to hash out some of the meanings and details.

However, Taylor's argument is flawed both as a whole and in several of its parts. He resists making clear definitions, he is very negative about science and technology, his historical perspective is distorted, and his writing is problematic.

Resistance to clear definitions is a serious problem. From the start, Taylor speaks of poetic knowledge both as a "degree" of knowledge and as a "mode" of knowledge. By confusing these definitions (and others) Taylor undercuts his central argument with equivocation. As a "degree of knowledge," poetic knowledge is immediate to the knowing person, and may be likened to the lowest rungs of a ladder, the first rungs we climb and the ones we use to climb higher. Understood as a degree of knowledge, poetic knowledge makes a constant contribution to all other forms of knowledge, including scientific knowledge.

As a "mode of knowledge", the poetic is the spontaneous knowledge of an interior view, rather than the measured and outward knowledge of rationality. The poetic as a "mode" of knowledge is the opposite of the "scientific mode". Of course, just as one would be impoverished by looking only east and never west, one would be impoverished if one were to employ only one of two possible modes of knowledge. But they remain opposites.

There are good philosophical reasons and good historical precedents (many of which Taylor produces) for either definition of the term "poetic knowledge," – and even for using both definitions in various ways. But the definitions cannot be interchanged during an argument, and this is what takes place in Taylor's essay. Simply put, his argument is that poetic knowledge (definition 1) is a form of knowledge essential to humanity. But poetic knowledge (definition 2) is the opposite – and the antagonist – of scientific knowledge. By equivocation, poetic knowledge is essential to all knowledge and a powerful human good in opposition to science.

While Taylor does not actually call science an evil, he spares no opportunity to disparage both science and technology. This negativity about science would be comic if it were not encased in an erudite argument for the poetic approach to knowledge in education. Unfortunately, the intuitive and poetic approaches to knowledge are naturally open to romanticism and gnosticism unless they are properly balanced with rationality. Taylor has no balance in this matter. His negativity about rationality overflows even onto sentence diagramming and phonics. He quotes with approval the assertion that "authors teach children to read," and that reading is "imitative". If he merely pointed out that phonics is not enough; you need to have authors that children will enjoy, I would agree. But to scorn phonics? The depth of Taylor's impracticality is simply breathtaking.

A note on history is also in order, for Taylor makes repeated reference to the time of the Reformation and Renaissance, before which the poetic was accepted in Western thought. The correct association for the negative attitude towards intuitive knowledge is the seventeenth century, starting with Descartes, 1596-1650. This is the "Enlightenment" or the "Age of Reason", two names for the time that followed the Renaissance and the Reformation. (Taylor does refer to Descartes as the culprit, but never clarifies his place in history.)

First of all, the Renaissance long preceded the Reformation. It was not a single event, of course, but the starting date sometimes given is 1250, sometimes earlier. Certainly the architectural triumphs of the cathedrals belong to the Renaissance, as do, for example, Dante (1265-1321), Buridan (1300's), Leonardo da Vinci (1452-1519), and Copernicus (1473-1543). The early Renaissance is the time of the birth of modern science. It predates by hundreds of years the problem that Taylor speaks of. This fact alone should make clear that the rise of science is not the culprit in the loss of respect for poetic knowledge. Something else happened. This is not the place to say what, but only to urge in the strongest terms that no implication against science be received from Taylor's references to the Renaissance.

It may be that Taylor has confused the Renaissance with the Enlightenment. This would explain why he constantly pairs Reformation and Renaissance in the opposite of their historical order, which was Renaissance first, and then later on, the Reformation.

Finally, though it may seem trivial to close on a grammatical note, I shall complain about Taylor's sentence structure. The topic is difficult enough without the distraction of errors of grammar and construction which appear throughout his book. Usually, when a reader is confused about the structure of a sentence, it is his clue that he has not properly followed the author's argument. But in Taylor, it is just a reminder that this author regards analysis as an inferior mode of thought, and wants his argument accepted intuitively.

Because I love science and feed my wonder on the delights of a well-crafted physical argument as much as on violets and poetry, and because I strongly desire that science and faith be understood harmoniously, I cannot recommend this book as a resource for the classical revival in education.

This book, originally published by Ignatius Press (with ecclesiastical approval) is available in print once again from Roman Catholic books. John Senior, an eminent great books scholar and Catholic writer of the recent past, here addresses what Christian Culture is, why it has nearly disappeared (particularly in America today) and what is required to bring it back. According to Professor Senior, society's removal from nature and manual labor, and particularly our heavy dependence on technology, have removed man from the most basic processes of learning and understanding that God planned for man to acquire by his natural surroundings. Humanistic philosophies are rooted in an emphasis on the greatness of man and his "creations" (i.e. technology) rather than glorying in God's Creation. According to Mr. Senior, a truly Christian culture requires a return to a basic understanding of the "stuff of life" by a far lessened and more controlled use of technology and other changes such as a return to the beauty and truth of the liturgy as it was celebrated in the past (the author respectfully argues that the traditional Latin Mass is a superior alternative to the Novus Ordo as it has commonly been implemented in the U.S. since Vatican II).

Even if you find his contempt for modern technology somewhat extreme, I would recommend reading his ideas in order to make yourself aware of how significantly our lives are impacted by technology today. Although it's not often talked about, I think it's vitally important for parents to understand that the problems with television for children go beyond simple concerns with regard to morally offensive content. People were not designed to sit in front of a box (be it a computer or a television). Although movies and computer games can enhance a child's education, they should be used in moderation or avoided. (You may also be interested in following this link in order to read Pope John Paul II's address on Television and the Media.

The author also addresses, in some detail, certain educational philosophies from a Catholic perspective. In particular, parents may find interesting a discussion of what literature is appropriate for Catholic children to read. I was particularly fascinated by his discussions of St. Benedict and traditional monastic life. I've always had a certain admiration for and interest in the idea of cloistered life (and even more so since reading Saint Benedict by Mary Fabyan Windeatt). I would like in some way to imitate the order, the motto of oro et laboro (I pray and I work) and the genuine sense of community within my own family. But I digress...

His remedy, involving a certain amount of good old-fashioned common sense and a return to a simpler life, is crowned by a rather splendid explanation of the necessary and central role of a return to a culture of Mary, the Mother of God and a strong devotion to her. He explains how this would be in imitation of the devotion of those simple people of the Middle Ages who spent their lives working to honor God through his Blessed Mother with beautiful cathedrals and artwork. The author contrasts this with the modern humanistic focus (if not "worship") of man-made objects (technology) which often reach no higher than utility and a glorification of what man can do.

I found this book surprisingly readable and delightfully filled with truth. Although parts of the book have a somewhat pessimistic flavor (and I don't agree with absolutely everything in the book), this is always tempered with a proper sense of hope and trust in God's providence. As a point of interest, John Senior's philosophies were apparently quite influential in the development of two of today's Catholic homeschool programs - Kolbe Academy and the Angelicum Academy.