Meta: Before I continue onto my target subject, let me acknowledge that it has been more than a few days since I was last a frequent writer at this local. The fault, guilt, responsibility… they’re all mine to bear and label within the paradigm of my reality. That said, there is no final sin here. In fact, I would hazard to posit that the worst that has happened has been a loss of opportunity. Every day that I have not written is by equal measure a day I could have written. Every blank page is filled margin-to-margin with scribbled ideas, and overlapping paragraphs, concerning all manner of hypotheses and theories whose explicit nature was a direct consequence of their being written. Which raises the alternative question: What is the explicit nature of the unwritten? By an autobiographical reference I point to my notes on what it means to write… (I pause to shuffle through notebooks, and folders, and loose-leaf pages and every other manner of graffiti – all modes permissible within some arbitrary containment, no matter that they all beg to serve the same capricious purpose; leave a mark upon this rock,v with the tenacity of-, but also with a vivacity unparalleled by our (ostensibly) terminal vandalism (a piled rock, gravestone; or, intuitive contribution to pollution – the easiest marker of modern life, scattered ashes).
With that verbose scattering achieved, there is at least a single reason less to proceed onto “my target subject,” better referenced by a label-less obtuse… in fact, there should be no extra cost for employing semantic legibility, let alone precision. Hence:
My reading of Jeremy Bentham; or, Why my prisons are all circles.
Preface; or, Some notes on reading material and the matter of its choice, as well as a tangential piqued interest in chrestomathy.
A preface is in order, although its purpose is kindly brief, namely to explain the sources. The collection from which I am reading is entitled The Works of Jeremy Bentham, Volume 4 (edited by the “philosophic radical and political reformer” John Bowring). Bowring was a friend to, and in accordance with his will, the executor of his writings, resulting in the publication of Bentham’s collected works in eleven volumes in 1843. As might be considered inevitable, the collection incorporated an incredible range of subject matters; a set whose particular volumes included such titles as, Chrestomathia, a Fragment on Ontology, Essays on Logic and Grammar, Tracts on Poor Laws, Tracts on Spanish Affairs, Letters to Count Toreno, and Securities against Misrule (in volume 8) to Panopticon; Or, The Inspection-House: Containing The Idea Of A New Principle Of Construction Applicable To Any Sort Of Establishment, In Which Persons Of Any Description Are To Be Kept Under Inspection; And In Particular To Penitentiary-Houses (which was read presently, i.e. in volume 4).
Before committing to (an undertaking of) a description of the panopticon, I would like to say a few words about the constituents of volume 8 (which is to reveal that it was not by complete chance that I selected that member to serve as an exemplar of that volume number). The key is the Chrestomathia. This is not the first time that this title has caught my eye, and its suggestiveness if exacerbated (enhanced, etc., the many choices allow a reflection along any number of philosophies) by its etymology; allow me to pseudo-quote: New Latin chrestomathia, from Greek chrēstomatheia, from chrēstos useful + manthanein to learn.
Its contemporary uses are rare, and mostly refer to a collection of passages intended to aid learning. In philology or literature (linguistic chrestomathy) it can mean selected sequential texts that demonstrate the development of language or a literary style; in computer programming (program chrestomathy) it can mean a collection of programming samples with parallel purpose, intended for comparison (i.e. difference/similarity in syntax, semantics, idioms of the various languages).
Although my explanation of Bentham’s use of the term is necessarily limited and hampered by my lack of having actually read his works concerning its title… The Chrestomathia is a didactic structure by Bentham; a design for the education of children implicitly based on utilitarian principles. The full title of the main work in question from volume 8 is Chrestomathia: Being a Collection of Papers, Explanatory of the Design of an Institution, Proposed to Be Set On Foot Under the Name of the Chrestomathic Day School, Or Chrestomathic School, For the Extension of the New System of Instruction to the High. Now then, let me move on.
Reading about prisons; or, A Day in the Life of One Who Does.
The story establishes itself in 1785 when Jeremy joined his brother in Russia, for reasons I’ve not ascertained although I can say that during this period he came to communicate with the Czarina Catherine the Great. As she is considered one of Russia’s great leaders, and probably its greatest female leader, it is no surprise that Bentham would have been interested in making himself known to her court. It seems probable that Bentham would have viewed Catherine as a bastion of progress (although I doubt he could have resisted the Englishman’s tendency to look down on all others for reasons idiosyncratic to each example), and hence a target amenable to some of his more “outlandish” or “progressive” ideas (i.e. the choice for description depends on the nature of one’s interpretation of Bentham’s patents).
In reading this text, which is itself formed by editing of a series of letters from Bentham to the Czarina, and whose blatant intention is to sell the concept of the panopticon. By “sell” I mean in an intellectual sense, as it would have sufficed for there to have been a working example anywhere for Bentham to refer his countrymen (the possibility of its failure I doubt could have occurred to Bentham, and the reasons for its “inevitable” success are as plentiful is his assurances of its unique benefits).
Interruption: I choose to introduce a hiatus at this point and continue (most preferably) tomorrow. But before breaking off, I should make a few notes on my intentions for continuation. First I should wish to say a little more about the panopticon; not so much about the building itself, which I intend to make illustrations of elsewhere, but about the experience of reading it. Second, I might start expressing my experience of reading that other text of Bentham that I had mentioned elsewhere, namely that text on the principles of moral legislation. In any case, we shall see precisely what we shall see, only then and never before.
