Confessions of a Cultural Tourist

In which the writer embraces her amateur status.

Unlock the timeless wisdom of the West—join The Occidental Tourist for weekly free insights into the books and ideas that have shaped our history, culture, and the human spirit!

The Parthenon. Frederic Edwin Church, 1871. MET Museum.

Hey guys, I’m interrupting my regular posts today to share a personal epiphany, and to give my readers an update on a few changes coming to The Occidental Tourist. If you’ve been enjoying this content already, not to worry—I’m not departing from my customary themes, just refocusing my vision and style.

---

First, a confession.

I’ve been producing this newsletter for just about three years, not counting a hiatus between my original posts and more recent writing. It has just lately dawned on me, however, that I’ve been viewing this project from the wrong end since the beginning. When I initially conceived the idea for The Occidental Tourist, I assumed the eponymous subject of my newsletter was the reader—that I was writing for an audience whose literary goals ostensibly required only a well-informed guide.

Undeterred by my lack of formal qualifications—apart from “above-average” interest and familiarity with the subject—I set out, somewhat boldly, to uncover the riches of the West’s literary tradition for my handful of readers. I armed myself mainly with an expanding collection of primary texts and scholarly works, accompanied by copious reading and research. After all, Dr. Mortimer J. Adler (more on him later) had always maintained that a decent grasp of the West’s greatest works could be had by anyone willing to put in the modicum of critical effort required. Certainly, I felt, that described me.

And Dr. Adler wasn’t wrong: the Great Books are generally accessible to any literate audience with a sincere desire to read them, which is partly what makes them great. I was wrong, however, in trying to adopt the role of “tour guide” in this venture, because the plain fact of the matter is this: I am the Occidental Tourist.

Dr. Mortimer Adler with the famous collection that launched the Great Books reading movement in the 1950’s.

My story: Just a girl with a passion for books.

Growing up, I was always a dedicated student who always loved books, but my literary passion took a back-seat while I pursued a different vocation: that of a U.S. Naval Officer. I spent 24 years on active duty, most of it during the so-called “Global War on Terror” (GWOT). It was the experience of a lifetime, bestowing memories and friendships that I wouldn’t trade for the world. Five deployments and countless adventures later, however, it was time to hang up the uniform and begin plotting the next course of my life.

San Jose Veteran’s Day Parade, 2016.

But first I had to confront an inescapable fact: my merely “adequate” education (two degrees notwithstanding) and years of military service had left me with big, gnarly questions about history, power, and the human condition…with incomplete answers at best.

Fortunately, my younger brother, an Army officer, had introduced me years before to Adler’s How to Read a Book. This classical guide to reading (originally published in 1940) first launched me into the literary world of the Great Books and its closely related offshoot, the Great Conversation. It turns out I’ve got good company: if you make even a cursory survey of Substack, you’ll find a score of veterans, like Adam Karaoguz and Matthew Long, who have similarly pursued reading the Great Books as an avenue to wisdom following their military careers.

So as the sun began to set on my active duty service, I enrolled in Faulkner University’s Master of Arts in Humanities program to study the '“traditions of Western civilization and the Great Books.” Although I’ve proceeded at a more-than-leisurely pace (in the best Aristotelian tradition), I’m now only a few tutorials and a thesis away from completing my degree with a concentration in Literature.

Looking Ahead

Which brings me back to my writing project here at The Occidental Tourist. As I said earlier, I now acknowledge that I’m the real tourist, having spent over 15 years reading my way unsystematically through the classics—sometimes alone, sometimes accompanied—not possessing any special credentials, just an earnest desire to hone my reading skills and share what I learn with others.

It’s in this sense that I welcome readers with similar goals or background to join me in my intellectual journey: not as their guide per se, but as a fellow sojourner, seeking the instruction and delight that comes from reading old books together.

My collection of the Great Books of the Western World and Franklin Library classics.

What this means for my readers, hopefully, is more personal, engaging posts as I share the struggles and progress of my own education, both formal and autodidactic. What it means for me as a writer, however, is an easing of my own expectations. For several months, I’ve undertaken great pains to produce each post: meticulously researching my topics, making extensive outlines and notes, and carefully citing my sources to produce pieces that could stand up to academic scrutiny. It’s an exhausting undertaking and was beginning to make my reading feel less delightful and my writing more of a daily grind.

As always, my dear husband came through for me with his wise and clear-headed counsel: “Just write for your own pleasure and discovery, not because you’re trying to impress anyone.” What can I say? He’s almost always right. (See, sweetheart, I do listen to you…sometimes.)

So here’s my new plan: I’ll continue to write about my adventures with the Great Books and their influence on the Western cultural tradition, but I’m going to throttle back my own scholarly expectations. My goal is to produce free, weekly content based on my current reading and studies (including my work on Dante), while avoiding the pedagogical tone that is best left for academic work. After all, there’s no shame in admitting my amateur status…especially when I embrace it in its original Latin sense of lover.

Twice a month for paid subscribers, though, I’ll strive to produce articles that explore a particular topic with more depth and scholarly analysis. The first article will be a description and study guide of the text I’m currently reading with my online Great Books club as we follow Adler’s Ten Year Reading Plan. The other article will focus on my Dante series for now, but will probably switch to my planned thesis on the literary alchemy of JK Rowling’s Harry Potter series next fall.

In conclusion…

I’d like to end with a sincere word of gratitude to all the subscribers and occasional readers who have supported my work this past year. Your interest, encouragement, and shared insights are the best part of this journey. Happy reading!

Like many websites, The Occidental Tourist uses affiliate links, which allows us to earn a small commission on any qualified purchases, at no additional cost to the buyer.