St. Isidore

It's a bit out of leftfield, but I came across a fascinating character just minutes ago: St. Isidore of Seville. The Catholic Encyclopedia online has an apt description of him:

Isidore was the last of the ancient Christian Philosophers, as he was the last of the great Latin Fathers. He was undoubtedly the most learned man of his age and exercised a far-reaching and immeasurable influence on the educational life of the Middle Ages. His contemporary and friend, Braulio, Bishop of Saragossa, regarded him as a man raised up by God to save the Spanish people from the tidal wave of barbarism that threatened to inundate the ancient civilization of Spain, The Eighth Council of Toledo (653) recorded its admiration of his character in these glowing terms: "The extraordinary doctor, the latest ornament of the Catholic Church, the most learned man of the latter ages, always to be named with reverence, Isidore".

If that portion of his bio on CE is a too dry, here's the beginnings of Wikipedia's entry on the man:

Saint Isidore of Seville (Spanish: San Isidro or San Isidoro de Sevilla) (c.560 – April 4, 636) was Archbishop of Seville for more than three decades and has the reputation of being one of the great scholars of the early Middle Ages. All the later medieval history-writing of Spain were based on his histories.

At a time of disintegration of classical culture, and aristocratic violence and illiteracy, he was involved in the conversion of the royal Visigoth Arians to Catholicism, both assisting his brother Leander and continuing after his brother's death. Like Leander, he took a most prominent part in the Councils of Toledo and Seville. In all justice, it may be said that it was due to the enlightened statecraft of these two illustrious brothers, that the Visigothic legislation which emanated from these councils, is regarded by modern historians as exercising an important influence on the beginnings of representative government.

How on earth did I end up reading about St. Isidore instead of scrutinizing Seth Bernadete's take on Socrates presentation of desire at about 438a (Bloom's translation of the Republic)? Good question and I don't have the slightest idea. Far be it from me to carefully chart my travels on the intertubes of the world wide net. In the most immediate sense, I was reading a summary of Tom Lutz's book, Crying: A Natural and Cultural History of Tears (what the hell was I doing there?), which included a quote from the Iz:

"Lamenting is the food of souls."

I thought that was beautiful. When I actually figure the context, I'll be sure to pass it along. For the time being, back to Socrates' war against himself.