Saturday, May 31, 2014

Books Read in May

It seems like this was a busy month of reading.  The following is a list of the things that I read outside of the various projects with which this blog is concerned.

  • Dragonsinger, Ann McCaffery - This is the sequel to Dragonsong and another that I've read at least a dozen times.  This takes place at a school for music and deals with the trouble Menolly has in fitting in with a place that isn't used to dealing with talented young women.  Love it.
  • Hard Magic, Larry Correia - A new one to me.  This book is an alternate history style story where people started to develop super powers around 1850 or so.  The book itself is set around 1930 so it has some noir elements.  Very enjoyable.  (I picked this up because it is the first of a series and the third one is, rather controversially, nominated for a Hugo this year.  If book three is of a similar level of quality, it will be a fine Hugo nominee.)
  • Monster of Florence, Preston and Spezi - A fascinating book that I picked up at a garage sale.  It details a serial killer that was active in Florence Italy in the 70's and 80's and the ensuing investigation.  The Italian police procedures are a bit different than in the US and fairly horrifying.  Evidence can be withheld, the police routinely leak info to the press to try people in the media and there seems to be no bar from tapping phones and computers.  Several lives were ruined and no one has confidence that the killer was ever caught.
  • Popular Crime, Bill James - A reread for me.  Bill James is known as a baseball guy and no one has done more to revolutionize the use of statistical analysis than he has.  It seems that he has been a fan of true crime novels for some time.  This book is a) a review of those books, b) a short history on various well known crimes/killers and c) an interesting set of opinions about what our justice system does well and what it can improve upon.  Highly recommended.
A heavy amount of reading about legal matters then, but I couldn't tie much of it back to Aquinas.  We simply don't have the same set of questions about the law that he did then.  In part, I'm sure, because he helped settle his own disputes.  I wish that I could give him about thirty questions that are of more concern to we moderns.

Thursday, May 29, 2014

Maya Angelou - Poetry

I'm breaking the pattern here.  The book I'm working from (found here) has the poems listed in chronological order.  Whether that's chronological from the time the poem was published or from the author's lifetime, I don't know.  In any case, I'm jumping to the very last poem in the book.  It's my project and this seems to be a fitting exception.
The poem is by Maya Angelou, who died yesterday.  She was the only poet in the book that was still living when it was published, so now the slate is clear.  I've heard of her (of course) but I don't think I've read any of her work.  The poem is called 'Still I Rise'.

You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I'll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops.
Weakened by my soulful cries.

Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don't you take it awful hard
'Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines
Diggin' in my own back yard.

You may shoot me with your words,
You may  cut me iwth your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefullness
But still, like air, I'll rise.

Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I've got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs? Out of the huts of
history's shame
I rise
Up from a past that's rooted in pain
I rise
I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.

Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise

Into a daybreak that's wonderously clear
I rise
Bring the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.

That's a powerful poem, with some very striking passages.  I particularly like the comparison to wealth and confidence: 'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells/Pumping in my living room'.  She seems to be saying that if you're rich enough, you can tell everyone off.  And, though her wealth might not be material, she has enough of it to fend off those that want to keep her down.
Of course, fighting back against those who want to keep her down, is very much a part of her moment in history.  The fight against Jim Crowe and segregation was literally a fight against those who wanted to trap a minority into a permanent underclass.  It was a fight to rise against that.  The anger in this poem is earned.  So is the sense of accomplishment.
There is some echo of that in today's struggles, I'm sure.  As a white man, at the age of forty, I'm not really the target audience but I can stretch my empathy a bit to try and understand.  It's not hard for me to think of modern high schoolers (especially girls) who see some of this in their own growing up.  This poem, I'm sure, serves as a reminder to them that rising is possible for them.  
As I've said, I haven't read any of the rest of Angelou's work.  Maybe I should change that.

Tuesday, May 27, 2014

Does the Law Make Men Good - Aquinas

One of the questions that Thomas Aquinas addresses is 'Whether an effect of law is to make men good?'.  The objections that he proposes are as follows:

  • Men are good through virtue and virtue is given to man through God.
  • Men profit only by following the law. They follow the law because they are good. Being good happens before someone follows the law.
  • The law deals with common good. Some people follow that common good but in personal matters are bad. The law doesn't make them good.
  • Some laws are bad and tyrannical. These obviously don't make man good.
Aquinas quotes Aristotle as saying "the intention of every lawgiver is to make good citizens".  He goes on to say in his own words:
For if the intention  of the lawgiver is fixed on true good, which is the common good regulated according to Divine justice, it follows that the effect of the law is to make men good simply.
My own sense is that concepts like law, justice and good are very well intertwined with each other.  The law gives guidelines as to correct behavior.  For example, speed limit laws aren't universal.  They aren't any kind of law that occurred before cars were developed.  Before then, people would drive their horses and carts at whatever speed seemed appropriate and things were fine.  
The law was introduced and people had to adapt to it.  If they broke the speed limit law, they weren't necessarily immoral, but by following it as a guideline, they developed the common good that is a safe traffic place.  That means that they may sacrifice some speed (a kind of profit) for a greater good.
Again though, let me note that this isn't a universal law.  Speed limits vary and in some places they don't have them at all.  The people there aren't 'bad' but they do belong to a different driving culture.  (I can't help but think of my brother who was stationed in Germany for a while.  He would be horrified that I'm holding up speed limit laws as an example of law providing a good guideline!)
I think laws help people be good but on their own, they aren't reliable enough to create good behavior.  Laws against murder are fairly universal but if some clerical error struck murder laws from the books, I don't think many people would go on killing sprees.  Cultural elements and teaching of virtue have some (possibly greater) role than the actual text of the law does.

Sunday, May 25, 2014

Carl Sandburg - Poetry

Sorry for the light blogging. It's been an unexpectedly busy week. I'll try to make up for it next week.

This time I know the poet and the poem.  For some reason I don't think that this is Carl Sandburg's most famous poem, but I may be wrong.  This little gem is called 'Fog'.

The fog comes
on little cat feet.

It sits looking
over harbor and city
on silent haunches
and moves on.

What a wonderful little poem!  'The fog comes/on little cat feet'.  If you're a cat owner (like me) then you know exactly how silently they can move around.  Fog is famously the same, drifting in quietly, without notice.  And I like the image of it simply hovering over and watching the harbor and city before moving on.
I thought that 'Chicago' was his more famous poem, but I think I've been misled.  I know that the city is known as 'the city with big shoulders' based on that poem, but maybe that's not that big of a deal.

Tuesday, May 20, 2014

Reading for June

Only one piece again.

Chaucer: Troilus and Cressida link

The actual volume in the Great Books has this with the modern and middle English versions side by side.  That's what I'll be reading.  Feel free to make your own choice of version.

Monday, May 19, 2014

100 Plays Update

I'm still mentally trying to figure out the best process for this.  I'm going to try very hard to get to a place where I can reliably do one play per month.  That means that I need to have 84 plays left at the end of this year.  The first one is done (Peter Pan is here), so there are 15 left to get to in the next seven or so months.  That's not difficult but it may be tough for other people to follow along.  Or, to put it more simply, I'm not sure what the schedule is going to look like.  I may push to do one a week for some time, or if the other reading is intense, there might be some time between reviews.  That's not good for others.
The best way to fix that is to simply put up the first 16 plays and let people pick their way through.  If we match up, then good.  If not, so be it.  I'm going to try to stay in order, but I don't care if others choose to jump around.  Ready?

100. Peter Pan - JM Barrie
99. The King's the Best Magistrate - Lope de Vega
98. The Heidi Chronicles - Wendy Wasserstein
97. The Hostage - Brendan Behan
96. Accidental Death of an Anarchist - Dario Fo
95. The Balcony - Jean Genet
94. The Brothers - Terence
93. Awake and Sing! - Clifford Odets
92. The Rover - Aphra Behn
91. Le Cid - Pierre Corneille
90. The Weavers - Gerhard Hauptmann
89. The Visit - Friedrich Durrenmatt
88. The Dybbuk - S. Ansky
87. Fences - August Wilson
86. The Little Foxes - Lillian Hellman
85. The Other Shore - Gao Xingjian

The rest you will have to wait for.  (Or you could read the book!)  And when 2015 arrives, this will all be settled down and normalized.  I promise.

Sunday, May 18, 2014

John Masefield - Poetry

I don't know this poet or the poem.  The poet is John Masefield and the poem is called 'Sea Fever'.

I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,
And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by,
And the wheel's kick and the wind's song and the white sails shaking,
And a gray mist on the sea's face and a gray dawn breaking.

I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide
Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;
And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,
And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea gulls crying.

I must go down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life,
To the gull's way and the whale's way where the wind's like a whetted knife;
And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow rover,
And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick's over.

Oh, this appeals to me!  I've lived almost all of my life in the prairie lands and yet, I've become absolutely entranced with sailing.  There is a romance to the whole notion, of course.  And, like all romances, the unpleasant realities are hidden by the glamour of the good stuff, I'm sure.  But I'm still in love with the idea.
The few times that I've been near the ocean, I've loved it.  And so, even though my experiences are very different, I can also say that 'I must go down to the sea again, to the lonely sea and the sky'.  I'm not sure that I'd do well with a 'tall ship and a star to steer her by', but someday I'd like to find out!
I like this, I really and truly do.

Saturday, May 17, 2014

Peter Pan - 100

This is the first play in the 100 plays project.  If you want to understand it, or need a refresher, here is the explanation. I'll be trying to buzz through a number of these for the rest of the year and then (hopefully!) settle into one per month.

I've seen various versions of Peter Pan many times but until now, I've never read the actual play.  The spirit of Peter Pan is fairly well represented elsewhere but there are elements to the stage version that you don't really get if you've only seen the Disney take.  For one, JM Barrie is absolutely crazy with stage directions.  Every scene is opened with a dense paragraph of notes.  Most (if not every) character is given some kind of insight into their past.  Many of those insights would be completely lost on any audience.  For instance, here is how the pirate crew is introduced:
The pirates appear upon the frozen river dragging a raft, on which reclines among cushions that dark and fearful man, CAPTAIN JAS. HOOK. A more villainous-looking brotherhood of men never hung in a row on Execution dock. Here, his great arms bare, pieces of eight in his ears as ornaments, is the handsome CECCO, who cut his name on the back of the governor of the prison at Gao. Heavier in the pull is the gigantic black who has had many names since the first one terrified dusky children on the banks of the Guidjo-mo. BILL JUKES comes next, every inch of him tattooed, the same JUKES who got six dozen on the Walrus from FLINT. Following these are COOKSON, said to be BLACK. MURPHY'S brother (but this was never proved); and GENTLEMAN STARKEY, once an usher in a school; and SKYLIGHTS (Morgan's Skylights); and NOODLER, whose hands are fixed on backwards; and the spectacled boatswain, SMEE, the only Nonconformist in HOOK'S crew; and other ruffians long known and feared on the Spanish main.
Good luck showing those things off!  As the reader, there is a wealth here.  This is a highly enjoyable play to sit and read.  The other element that struck me was just how hard this must be to stage.  There are flying actors, and I believe that this was the first play to do that.  But the other technical things are simply crazy.  The third act takes place in a lagoon.  Most of the action takes place with people going on and off of a rock in the water.  Again, good luck with that!
And I should mention that this is a play that couldn't possibly pass muster today because of its treatment of Native Americans.  This is virtually the only place that I've read about 'redskins' outside of football.  Of course, the story came from JM Barrie's imagination in the mid 19th century, and I'm sure that this treatment was quite in line with its day.  My suggestion is to try and get past that and enjoy the book with the understanding that times have changed.
This is an historic play.  One of the first that was created primarily for children.  Certainly the first of such to become wildly popular.  And that popularity is deserved.  We often face a tension between becoming more grown up and keeping our childlike wonder.  Peter Pan is a great emblem of that struggle.  We can easily understand the desire to stay in our childlike lives (at least I can!).  But we also see that the boys absolutely must move on.  Peter Pan, himself, is not a sympathetic character.  He's cruel and cold and callous.  We might want to remain young, but not at that price!

Next up: 'The King's the Best Magistrate' by Lope de Vega.  (Well maybe.  I'm having a devil of a time finding any kind of English translation.)

Friday, May 16, 2014

What the Ancients Can Teach Us About War

Sometimes people ask me what I've learned from the Great Books.  One (surprising) thing is that I've become less hawkish towards war.  The ancient Greeks (whether intentional or not) showed that war turns out awful for pretty much everyone.  Of course, it has its place, but when we do the cost/benefit analysis, we have to remember that the cost is pretty damn dire.

Wednesday, May 14, 2014

Summa Theologica - Thomas Aquinas

Summa Theologica is a heavy, heavy bit of work.  This is literally true, as Thomas Aquinas is one of only four authors who get two volumes in the Great Books series.  The others are Shakespeare, Gibbon and Aristotle, whom Aquinas most resembles.
The format for Summa is very interesting.  Aquinas follows these steps:

  • Ask a general question
  • Break that question into smaller questions
  • Provide several (numbered) objections to the smaller questions
  • Cite some pushback from a respected philosopher or theologian
  • Answer the question by his own reasoning
  • Respond to each of the objection in particular
This is a brilliant set up and frankly I'd like to see it done with more modern topics.  An opinion piece about a topic like, say, gun control, would benefit greatly from the feeling that the author has a full understanding of both sides of the argument.  It's hard to argue that Aquinas wasn't on topic of his topics.  
Having said that, the arguments have moved quite some space from the time that Aquinas was writing.  His first question, "Whether Law is Something Pertaining to Reason", seems quaint.  Of course the law is connected to reason.  Can you imagine trying to argue the counter to that?  The objections given are wholly unconvincing.
Objection 1: It would seem that law is not something pertaining to reason. For the Apostle says (Rom. 7:23): "I see another law in my members," etc. But nothing pertaining to reason is in the members; since the reason does not make use of a bodily organ. Therefore law is not something pertaining to reason.
Obj. 2: Further, in the reason there is nothing else but power, habit and act. But law is not the power itself of reason. In like manner, neither is it a habit of reason: because the habits of reason are the intellectual virtues of which we have spoken above. Nor again is it an act of reason: because then law would cease, when the act of reason ceases, for instance, while we are asleep. Therefore law is nothing pertaining to reason.
Obj 3: Further, the law moves those who are subject to it to act aright. But it belongs properly to the will to move to act, as is evident from what has been said above. Therefore law pertains, not to the reason, but to the will; according to the words of the Jurist: "Whatsoever pleaseth the sovereign, has force of law."
Aquinas answers well to these objections:
I answer that, Law is a rule and measure of acts, whereby man is induced to act or is restrained from acting: for lex (law) is derived from ligare (to bind), because it binds one to act. Now the rule and measures of human acts is the reason, which is the first principle of human acts, as is evident from what has been stated above; since it belongs to the reason to direct to the end, which is the first principle in all matters of actions, according to the Philosopher (Aristotle Phys ii.). Now that which is the principle in any genus, is the rule and measure of that genus: for instance, unity in the genus of numbers, and the first movement in the genus of movements. Consequently it follows that law is something pertaining to reason.
'Now the rule and measures of human acts is the reason, which is the first principle of human acts'.  In other words, we make rules and measures with our reason.  This is true even if different groups of people make different rules.  Each group relies on reason to make rules.  This is true even when those people sleep.  And we no longer have monarchs (sovereigns) that make their laws by whim.  But even then 'it needs to be in accord with some rule of reason'.
Overall, this was pretty heavy reading and I often wished that I was going through each question with someone else so that we could discuss them.  Not the first time that I've wished that with this reading list and I'm sure it won't be the last.

Sunday, May 11, 2014

Rilke - Poetry

I've heard of this poet, but not the poem.  Her name is Rainer Maria Rilke and the poem is called 'The Panther'.

So worn with passing through the bars,
His gaze holds nothing any more.
A thousand bars before him there might loom
And past the thousand bars no world.

The lissom stride of soundless padded pacing,
Revolving in the tiniest of rings,
Is like a dance of strength around a pivot,
Impaling in a trance of mighty will.

Bur rarely is the curtain of the eyeball
Softly parted. Then an image enters in
Which seeps through the tremulous stillness of the limbs
To reach the heart, where it expires.


The imagery here is certainly strong.  The big cat is in a pen and, although it can see the people, it choose not to after some time.  Why should it?  The panther's entire world is in the circle that it endlessly walks.
By chance, I happened to go to a zoo today and saw the big cats.  The lions completely ignored us, but they were kind of far away.  The tiger, on the other hand, was laying down next to the glass.  It simply lay there, looking into the distance, not paying the slightest bit of attention to any of us.  We've become wallpaper.
I'd never thought about that before.  Now I'll think it every time.

Friday, May 9, 2014

100 Plays

A couple of years ago I picked up a book at a garage sale called 'The 100 Best Poems of All Time' (finally found it on Amazon!).  For the past couple of years I've been blogging my way through it, about one poem a week.  You can read the full series by clicking on the 'Poetry' link at the bottom of this post.
I've fully enjoyed this side project.  Part of the reason that I decided to the Great Books reading list is to become more well read.  The poetry book has helped with that.  More importantly, it has introduced me to some wonderful, wonderful poems that I'd never read before.  This one might be my favorite.  Unfortunately, I've only got twenty-some poems left.  I'll finish up before the end of the year.  I thought about simply being done and concentrating on the Great Books but I've enjoyed have a side project to help pace my way through. 
Then I remembered that a couple of years ago, when I was trying to figure out if there was some consensus that Hamlet was the greatest stage play ever, I stumbled across a book that tried to rank the 100 greatest plays of all time.  Well.  I know theater better than I do poetry but my knowledge of it isn't nearly so complete that I couldn't stand to expand it.  (This is an understatement!)  Long story short, I bought it and I'm going to work my way through it.
There are some issues, big and small, to figure out.
  • A full play is much, much longer than a poem.  I can read and blog about a poem after work on a Sunday night but this simply isn't true about a full stage play.  Instead of one a week, it will be one a month.
  • Let's see, seven years at one play a month comes to . . . 84 plays.  Which leaves me 16 short.  Either the drama project will go past the Great Books or I need to do it in a shorter period of time.  Skip the ones that are covered by the Great Books?  Lop off the last 16?  After some consideration, I decided that I'd simply look for months were I could double up and get the whole thing done on time.  
  • I'm also going to start right now so that I can get another eight months in.  I might try to cover quite a bit of it this summer, when the Great Books are mostly narrative, so that I can be on a once a month schedule starting in January.
  • The book has the plays listed from one to one hundred, which is a mistake in my opinion.  I'm going to work them in reverse order, ending up at the greatest play of all time (per Daniel S. Burt, the author).  Each month I'll let you know what the next play is so you can read along.
  • The works are pretty heavily 20th century.  Some of the scripts are available online, especially with the older ones.  I don't personally plan on investing much money here so anything that I can't find online or in anthologies, I'll try and get from the library.  If there is a Project Gutenberg version, I'll link to it.
As with the Great Books project, I'm inviting anyone who wants to tag along and read with me.  It's a big commitment and I'm not looking to hold anyone to it.  If you want to dip in and out from time to time, feel free.

First up is 'Peter Pan' by J M Barrie.  The play can be found here.  

Tuesday, May 6, 2014

Biography of Thomas Aquinas

Thomas Aquinas was born in 1225 to a wealthy family in the Aquino region of southern Italy.  His education started when he was five, first at Monte Cassino and then at a newer university in Naples.  Among his studies were several philosophers including (and especially!) Aristotle.  One of his teachers was a recruiter for the Dominican order.
When Thomas was 19 he decided that he would join the Dominicans.  His family was upset, because they expected him to join the Benedictines like his uncle.  It's hard for me, as a non-Catholic nearly 800 years later, to understand this division, but his family was so upset by this that they imprisoned him in one of the family castles.  While imprisoned his brothers tried to have a prostitute seduce him, but according to legend he fended her off with a hot poker.  His reward was an angelic visit which served to strengthen his belief in celibacy.
After about a year, his mother helped him escape from the castle.  She apparently felt that it would be better for the family if he escaped before political force was wielded to free him.  Thomas went to Paris and gained some fame there.  He was quiet and some of his fellow students thought he was stupid.  This prompted his teacher, Albert Magnus, to say, "You call him the dumb ox, but in his teaching he will one day produce such a bellowing that it will be heard throughout the world".
Thomas bounced around from position to position, both teaching and learning.  Around 1265, when he was 40, he was asked to be a papal theologian and do some teaching near Rome.  It was then that he developed 'Summa Theologica', which he wrote as an instruction for beginning students.  It is one of the foremost works of philosophy and ethics in the entire Catholic canon.
In December of 1273, this happened:
On 6 December 1273 at the Dominican convent of Naples in the Chapel of Saint Nicholas after Matins Thomas lingered and was seen by the sacristan Domenic of Caserta to be levitating in prayer with tears before an icon of the crucified Christ. Christ said to Thomas, "You have written well of me, Thomas. What reward would you have for your labor?" Thomas responded, "Nothing but you, Lord." After this exchange something happened, but Thomas never spoke of it or wrote it down. Because of what he saw, he abandoned his routine and refused to dictate to his socius Reginald of Piperno. When Reginald begged him to get back to work, Thomas replied: “Reginald, I cannot, because all that I have written seems like straw to me” (mihi videtur ut palea). What exactly triggered Thomas's change in behavior is believed by Catholics to have been some kind of supernatural experience of God.
A few months later he died after an accident with a tree branch.  There were some later rumors that he had been poisoned but his contemporaries didn't mention any such thing.  As he was given last rites he said "I receive Thee, ransom of my soul. For love of Thee have I studied and kept vigil, toiled, preached and taught....".  He was canonized 50 years later.  Thomas Aquinas is the patron saint of all Catholic schools.

Sunday, May 4, 2014

Robert Frost - Poetry

For a change, this is both a poet and a poem that I know well.  I imagine that Robert Frost is one of the best known poets of the 20th century and this, 'Stopping by the Woods on a Snowy Evening' is one of the most famous.

Whose woods are these I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and froze lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask of there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

The first three stanzas paint a picture.  A very true one.  Having grown up in a place where winter is very real, I can see the exact scene of the forest.  I know very well that muffled time and almost mystical feel of the beginning of a heavy snow.
It's the last part that really steals the show.  'But I have promises to keep/And miles to go before I sleep'.  Who doesn't know that time when you just want to lay down but you can't because those pesky obligations are just too big?  And so we must press on.  Away from the loveliness and down those weary miles.
This is simply a wonderful poem.

Saturday, May 3, 2014

Author Timeline

Once again we cross that divide that used to be called the dark ages.

Aeschylus  525-456
Herodotus  484-425
Thucydides  460-395
Plato  428-348
Aristotle  384-322
Euclid  Unknown (300 BC?)
Tacitus  56-117
St Thomas Aquinas  1225-1274
Chaucer  1343-1400
Shakespeare  1564-1616
Milton  1608-1674
Locke  1632-1704
Kant  1724-1804
Mill  1806-1873
Lavoisier  1743-1794
Dostoevsky  1821-1881
Freud  1856-1939

Thursday, May 1, 2014

Reading for May

Just one piece and it's on the small side.  After the long readings of the past few months, it will be nice to have a short one.

St Thomas Aquinas: Summa Theologica (part One of the Second Part Questions 90-97) link

This may win the award for the most confusing and hard to find section.  If you're looking in the actual Great Books, it's in Volume 20, pages 205-239.  The title is 'Treatise on Law' and it goes from Question XC through Question XCVII (or 90-97, if the Roman numerals give you fits).