ITT: Books everyone should read

Jung is trash

maybe only to understand how stupid and misinformed the general opinion is about "The Hero's Journey"

Why? I heard he was good, user.

That seems statistically unlikely. I live in a town of 15,000 and I would venture a guess 2 or 3 people have read it

This book unironically sucks.
>muh monomyth
Miss me with that gay shit, propose something interesting that isnt obvious to someone with the slightest understanding of evolutionary biology

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Nigga read the Golden Bough, at least it talks about cool stuff like the Lemurians and hyperboreans

I wish people would speak to me when I read in public.

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>(((kaufmann)))
Nice try bumble fairy but I prefer pure Nietzsche.

Lit professor made us a watch a movie about him today. Dude is wacko

it's only obvious now

How so?

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>t. Sigmund Freud

dis one

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>No ebook on Book

REEEEEE!!!

>american
>anything worthwhile about politics
>can't even get the definition for liberal right

nuke that shitehole and we'll go from there

Anything by Charles Eisenstein

Nobody should read that book It's rank pseudo intellectualism and has exactly 0 value.

Just seething because he got quads, lol.

Edda

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This is the opinion of adopting too.
If there is some value to grasp in it i didn't find it. It's a massive collection of short myths with little to no explanation to them and somewhat forced link conjured by the author. I admit my knowledge/understanding of mythology is poor, but nothing is self evident from the reading itself.

Imagine believing the hero’s journey unironically

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Reading in public -- as well as studying and/or using laptops in public -- should be banned

You should have a look at it because of the influence it had on writers, it is similar to psychoanalysis influencing artists like Pollock, it isn't about it being correct but important. God knows I hate Bettheleim and his ideas but he influenced many.

>movie
name?

Hamlet is the obvious choice, if the complete works of Shakespeare seem to great a challenge. The Complete Works of Keats is also a must-read.

What about reciting poetry from memory in public?

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This but unironically.

>Walter Kaufmann

b-ok.org/s/?q=the hero with a thousand faces
what are you smoking?

>Kaufmann was raised a Lutheran.[4] At age 11, finding that he believed neither in the Trinity nor in the divinity of Jesus, he converted to Judaism.[4] Kaufmann subsequently discovered that his grandparents were all Jewish.

redpill me on this

Truly based and folkpilled.

He is, dont listen to that guy, user. Archetypes and the collective unconcious is a great read too, if you havent read it yet.

Holy Bible, Catechism, Plato's Republic, Imitation of Christ - Thomas a Kempis

Catechism of the Catholic Church

Catechism of the Catholic Church* (correction)

considering getting a copy soon - is that the best translation out there?

based quads
based sowell

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Assuming it's the Power of Myth series on Netflix

Get the translation either by Robert Fitzgerald (accurate while still maintaining poetic beauty) or Richard Lattimore (as accurate as possible, sometimes dry).
I personally recommend Fitzgerald.

no such thing
plebs shouldn't be taught how to read at all

woke

I really liked John Dolans version too for a fun read.

>series on Netflix
education is definitely propaganda in 2019

Was originally a PBS documentary back in 1988 with transcripts published in print, so not entirely shit tier

do either of you know anything about the E. V. Rieu translation?

1. That guy is being a dick (with his property)
2. The second printing looks like this

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>I'm too smart for this book the concept is so obvious
You know the concept because Campbell came up with it retard

It's a prose translation and a friend of mine who read ancient Greek told me to avoid it.

this

Ah so is this why I have been hearing/seeing so many talk about Campbell lately?

>poetry
run the poets out of the city! They corrupt the good!

does popes translation count?

>casually destroys all clown politics
nothing personnel brah

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This.

This book was boring

What is this? I can't find info on it

got pdf link?

what translation does your friend recommend?

Dont fucking post books you havent read and understood yourself. It makes me insecure about my own power level.

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Literal pleb.

Having just read the Bible I would actually encourage nobody to read it under any circumstances

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only book you need really

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is there actually any difference between the versions besides the cover?

so long as you've learned Koine Greek and read it as intended by God

>Implying
As Eliot pointed out, Hamlet was a total artistic failure.
However, I won't put forward an alternative Shakespeare, because I am not sure which is The One All Should Read. But he is the best, that much is clear.

The varieties of religious experience

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Funnily enough, the last time someone talked to me on a bus about the book I was reading, I was reading The Golden Bough. There must be something in comparative mythology that inspires conversation.

Children usually talks to me when i read in public

see name

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He reads like 15 translations at once, he doesn't have a recommendation.

Why do all these books seem so fucking boring?

My diary desu

Doubtful. Sometimes they come out with a new introduction, but who would care?

You’re projecting.
The Campbell book is a difficult read, the math book will obviously be dry as toast, Sowell is dreck. But the books I mentioned, the Iliad, Bakunin, Hamlet, others, aren’t boring.
Here, read some London or something

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>Sowell is dreck
No one here is interested in the politics of an aging communist roastie

To those who followed Columbus and Cortes the New World truly seemed incredible, not only because of what civilization had made of the Old World but because of the natural endowments of the one they now began to enter. The land often announced itself with a heavy scent miles out into the ocean, and the coasting whites with their nostrils full of salt and the sour odors of confinement recorded their delight with the odor of forests and verges in bloom. Giovanni di Verrazano in 1524 smelled the cedars of the East Coast a hundred leagues out. Raleigh's colonists scented what they thought a garden, though they would soon enough make it something else. The men of Henry Hudson's Half Moon, already disposed to hate and fear the natives, were temporarily disarmed by the fragrance of the New Jersey shore, while ships running farther up the coast occasionally swam through large beds of floating flowers.

Wherever they came inland they found that these announcements had been in no way false: the land, wilderness though it was, was a rich riot of color and sound, of game and luxuriant vegetation. Even if some of the most glowing descriptions of the New World were in fact realestate advertisements, given then as now to calculated falsehood, still the theme of beauty in abundance is so pervasive that it transcends any scheme, insisting its truth upon the reluctant and hesitant pens of the white observers. Had they been other than they were, they might have written a new mythology here. As it was, they took inventory, around the margins of which one feels the spectacular presence of America.

Waterfowl took flight under their advances with thunderous wings, and deer in unconcerned droves browsed lush meadowlands. Squirrels and huge turkeys barked and gobbled in the endless forests that stretched all the way from the coast to the huge river that Soto had crossed and recrossed and been buried in. Elsewhere ground fruits lavished themselves on the land: scarlet blankets of strawberries painted the bellies of the horses and the legs of the horsemen who rode through them, and swollen clusters of grapes bowered the streams and rivers.

When the whites penetrated the western watercourses they found the life there as abundant as it had been along the eastern seaboard where sturgeon, giant lobsters, and shad were so plentiful that settlers grew nauseated on them. Out west, Pierre Radisson in the middle of the seventeenth century found otters so numerous in the streams that they hindered the progress of the little expedition's canoes. Gigantic catfish thumped ominously against the frail crafts of Jesuit fathers and voyageurs, while overhead flocks of passenger pigeons traveled the skies in such numbers that for hours at a time the sunlight would be obscured.

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When Daniel Boone and the Long Hunters crept through the Cumberlands into Kentucky, they discovered newer variations on this theme of abundance in a land of canebrakes, clover, bluegrass, wild grains, and salt licks where a thousand animals might be glimpsed in a single lucky moment. They saw the buffalo whose enormous presence Vaca and Coronado had earlier reported and whose relatives, the woods buffalo, were to be found in considerable numbers as far east as Pennsylvania and upper New York. Here these few whites were on the very margin of the prairies that stretched they knew not how far toward sunset, prairies that in spring glinted like an ocean running under windsunflower, golden alexander, prairie lily, silphium, blazing star, golden rod, sky blue aster, purple gentian, big bluestem.

All of it seemed so lavish and exhaustless that it tempted the whites to tales of exaggeration, some imported from the Old World, some locally grown. There was, for example, the story about the Fortunate Hunter: charged simultaneously by a bear and a moose, he sent his only shot into a rock squarely between them, the bullet splitting and each half killing its beast. The fragments of the rock killed a squirrel in a nearby tree, while the recoil of the hunter's rifle knocked him into a stream from which he emerged with his pockets brimming with fish.

But while the old chronicles tell us their tales of abundance and show us occasionally individuals like William Bartram who actually paused to muse on this magnificence, caught up by it into aboriginal-like meditations, they tell us something else as well. They tell us that this was a world the whites wanted not as it was but only as they might remake it. For the other great theme of the narratives is that of waste, destruction, and frantic spoliation. As Peter Matthiessen notes, within a century of settlement the whites in the East had broken the wilderness from the coast well into Pennsylvania, a staggering achievement in which they had cut their way through vast stands of hardwood and white pine, cut them up into houses, boat ribs, ship masts, and items that would enable them to continue moving on-gun stocks, ax handles, singletrees, and wagon hubs. These trees, like the Indians and wild life they sheltered, stood in the way, not only of Progress, which was obvious, but of deeper notions of order and light. Occasionally there seems to have been a brief pause when some ancient woods giant crashed earthward and white men stood still in the dust and sunlight of its clearing to count its annual rings. So John Bakeless records that two oaks felled in Pennsylvania in 1833 were 460 and 390 years old, meaning that they had been in their maturity when Columbus had made his landfall. William Penn's Treaty Elm in Philadelphia had begun to grow when Cabeza de Vaca had embarked with Narvaez. And when at last the whites would attack the giant sequoias of the far West they would find trees that predated Christ.

>cover art from "the very hungry caterpillar"
>not the far superior "the hungry caterpillar"

Why is there so many fucking women on that cover?

Is there an Islamic version of The Imitation of Christ?
It's such a unique and useful book.

The idea of using the right level of magnification shattered my previous social and political ideas. Would recommend. It lets you see through one of the most common methods of deception.

Psychoanalysis and jungianism are satanic nonsense.

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