Jonathan had a
busy career in teaching but nevertheless had the time to be a caring, sacrificial
and successful family man. His commitment to family life extended beyond his nuclear
family: I was very impressed when as late as May of this year he made the tedious journey from Paris with his Italian wife Daniela to my son’s wedding in London
even though at that stage his health was clearly being impacted by the ravages
of cancer.
Jon’s many
pupils no doubt benefited from his literary erudition. In fact I myself was
inspired by some of his work. I have in my possession three treasured books which
would not have been possible without Jon’s input. These books can be seen in the
photo below:
These books
are:
Imago Mundi:. [1995 Biblos] This is a quality production on the history of cosmology by Francesco Bertola.
Jonathan provided the section of this book that contains the English
translation from the Italian. It is a good read for those who want a scholarly overview
of the history of human perspectives on cosmology. (While we are on the subject
of translations from the Italian, see the following blog entries where I provide
some of Jon’s translations of the songs of Franscesco Guccini: See below and here and here. He did these translations in the last two years of his life)
Brave New
World: [1991 Cideb Editrice] This book contains Jon’s editorial commentary for
English literature students.
The Time
Machine: [1994 Cideb Editrice] This is another book containing Jon’s editorial
expositions.
As I’m not a
literary man I greatly benefited from Jon’s learning. In particular I found his
found his exposition of H. G. Wells’ The
Time Machine extremely illuminating. This was a book that had fascinated me
from my youth when I first read it (in 1967). In fact I found Jon’s commentary
so inspiring that it prompted to I write a two part essay called “The Riddle of
the Sphinx”. I may make those essays available on this blog at some stage, although they are not really recommended reading: Unlike Jon I’m not a fluent
writer and I really only write as means of using it to crystalize my thinking
and to ward off boredom. (It’s a kind of therapy for me)
Jon was an
atheist and knowing him to be a deep and
fair thinker he would undoubtedly have had good reasons to be so: I do not
accept the common evangelical view that somehow all atheists are knowingly
rebelling against God and have bad consciences (Fundamentalists may use their reading
of Romans 1 to impeach the consciences of atheists). Amongst other reasons for
rejecting religion I know that Jon had seen more than enough of the institutionalized nastiness of authoritarian religion and the conceits and deceits of the fundamentalists; such religion has the finger prints of flawed humanity all over it. In fact I’ve been all but put off Christianity by such people myself, so I’m
sure Jon was justified in being repulsed by it all.
Although I'm seriously courting theism I never really had the chance to talk about theism & atheism
with Jon. But a few months before his death (and after he had read some of my blog
material) he emailed me about the subject and I had the opportunity to put my
position before him.
As a theist what
can I say about Jon’s atheism? For me a Biblical writer expresses it well:
For it is not those who hear the law who are righteous in God’s sight, but it is those who obey the law who will be declared righteous. (Indeed, when Gentiles, who do not have the law, do by
nature things required by the law, they are a law for themselves, even though
they do not have the law, since they show that the requirements of the law are
written on their hearts, their consciences also bearing witness, and their
thoughts now accusing, now even defending them.) This will take place on the
day when God will judge men's secrets through Jesus Christ, as my gospel
declares. Romans 2:13-16
If there is a next world and given that the gospel of
Christ is about love, justice, sacrifice, mercy and above all grace, then in my
opinion someone like Jonathan Benison ought to be well received in that world.
"Letter" by Franscesco Guccini:
Translation:
The cherry-tree in the garden has come into bloom with the new
sunshine
The neighbourhood is soon filled with snow from the poplars and with
words.
At one o’clock on the dot the clatter of plates reaches the ears
The TVs’ thunderous rumble meets the unfazed indifference of the
cats;
As you can see, everything’s normal in this pointless sarabande
But blowing through this unchanging pattern of life is the whiff of
a question,
The prickly presence of an eternal doubt, what’s past seething like
an ants’ nest,
Troubling those who leave it till winter to wish it were summer
again.
The streets are coming back to life, a perfect finishing touch to
the world,
Mother and daughter brazenly parade the same face and round bottom,
Identical in the head, no history, challenging everything, no
limits,
Their strutting briefly outdone by the wailing of swallows and
children;
As you can see, nothing out of the ordinary in this cumulus of life
and death,
But, sobering thought, I’m not unhappy stuck in this rut of wishes
and fate,
This over-shiny net, these goals we dream up for ourselves,
This unquenchable thirst, of those who hold back, unwilling to fly.
Slowly the roses wither, clusters of fruit appear on the
apple-trees,
High up, clouds pass silently through the strips of cobalt-blue sky;
I lie stretched out on the fantastic green-grass plane of my past
But just-like-that age dispels all I believed and have not been;
As you can tell, everything’s just fine in this world free of
worries,
As life skimmed past me, I correctly discussed the set topics,
My enthusiasms never lasted long, lots of philosophising stances,
A life of amusing encounters turned tragic, some too close for
comfort, some not close enough.
But the times gone by, who will return them to me? Who’ll give me
back the seasons
Of glass and sand, who can bring back rage and gestures, women and
songs,
The lost friends, books I devoured, the simple enjoyment of
appetites,
The healthy thirst of the parched, the blind faith in poor myths?
As you can see, everything’s as usual, just that time is pressing
and the suspicion arises
That it’s not a big deal to be weary and breathless at the end of a
race,
To be anxious as people are the day after, or sad at the end of a
match,
No big deal the slow aimless unfolding of this thing that you call
life.
Translated by Jonathan Benison
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