Trying to Understand Relativity (part 5)

It was suggested to me that I read Einstein's own book on Relativity.  Well, I tried to follow up on this suggestion, but I found myself a little in over my head.  I've read difficult books before, Freud, Kant, Sartre, Nietzsche, and so on.  It took some effort to get through those books (Sartre especially), but at least I never felt completely bogged down in the rougher patches, and I was always fascinated enough by their ideas that I was compelled to continue.  I'm not sure why I should find myself having more trouble with this Einstein book, but I do.  I would read a couple of pages, re-reading most of the paragraphs a few times, and then I would set it aside at the point when I felt like I was going to pass out.  Then, when I'd go back and try to pick up where I left off, I'd be completely lost and I'd have to start over.  After several times of doing that, I think I've about had it.  But don't just take my word for it, check it out:

IN your schooldays most of you who read this book made acquaintance with the noble building of Euclid’s geometry, and you remember—perhaps with more respect than love—the magnificent structure, on the lofty staircase of which you were chased about for uncounted hours by conscientious teachers. By reason of your past experience, you would certainly regard every one with disdain who should pronounce even the most out-of-the-way proposition of this science to be untrue. But perhaps this feeling of proud certainty would leave you immediately if some one were to ask you: “What, then, do you mean by the assertion that these propositions are true?” Let us proceed to give this question a little consideration.

Geometry sets out from certain conceptions such as “plane,” “point,” and “straight line,” with which we are able to associate more or less definite ideas, and from certain simple propositions (axioms) which, in virtue of these ideas, we are inclined to accept as “true.” Then, on the basis of a logical process, the justification of which we feel ourselves compelled to admit, all remaining propositions are shown to follow from those axioms, i.e. they are proven. A proposition is then correct (“true”) when it has been derived in the recognised manner from the axioms. The question of the “truth” of the individual geometrical propositions is thus reduced to one of the “truth” of the axioms. Now it has long been known that the last question is not only unanswerable by the methods of geometry, but that it is in itself entirely without meaning. We cannot ask whether it is true that only one straight line goes through two points. We can only say that Euclidean geometry deals with things called “straight line,” to each of which is ascribed the property of being uniquely determined by two points situated on it. The concept “true” does not tally with the assertions of pure geometry, because by the word “true” we are eventually in the habit of designating always the correspondence with a “real” object; geometry, however, is not concerned with the relation of the ideas involved in it to objects of experience, but only with the logical connection of these ideas among themselves.

Now, I have really no idea what he's talking about here.  I know what "Euclidean Geometry" is, and I'm familiar with the concepts he's talking about, but I have no clue what he's getting at here.  Is he saying that the truth of the principles of geometry are only verifiable by their own internal logic and not by empirical observation?  Is he's saying that they ought to be only verified in this manner to be more "pure"?  This is only the first two paragraphs and I'm totally lost.  I would argue that the principles of geometry are empirically verifiable, because the shapes that geometry deals with are abstract forms of shapes that occur in natural observable reality.  I would argue that "2+2=4" is as abstract as it gets, but a person can take four buttons and empirically observe the truth for themselves.  I would argue this, but I'd probably be arguing with nothing but my own confusion.  I'm probably not even in the same ballpark where Einstein is pitching this particular game.  It's probably not even the right sport or even the right season.  I'm alone on the field, yelling at the empty stands. 

Maybe the problem is that I've been trying to read the book online.  Maybe I need to get a hard copy of it.  I don't know.  I would have liked to have more to say, and more progress to report.  I'm sure you would have liked something more interesting to read than a story of how someone threw a book against a wall.  I know people are trying to help with their suggestions, and I do appreciate it, but I think I make the most progress when I stick to my original plan and don't allow myself to get sidetracked.  I may return to the Einstein book, and if I run across a copy of it at the book store, I'll pick it up.  For now, I'm going to stick with my houses and their neighborly inhabitants.  See you next time.