The Wisdom of the Myths

Wisdom from the Myths: How Greek Mythology Can Change Your Life
© 2014 Luc Ferry
416 pages

Well over a year or so ago, in a mood to read about the classical tradition, I happened upon Wisdom from the Myths: How Greek Mythology Can Save Your Life. Well, that seemed serendipitous, to say the least, despite the fact that the last time I read Ferry he was rather underwhelming.  That mood passed, but it's come round again, and so this weekend I enjoyed Ferry's introduction to the Greek mythos. Wisdom from the Myths is two things;  Ferry retells the major stories of Greek mythology, patching them together from Homer and the dramatists, but brings them together to argue that they constitute a coherent worldview.  This is one of an orderly  universe in which man has a definite role as a member of a polis. (Odysseus' journey is read then as a spiritual one, with the hero confronting the death of his identity when tempted by Calypso. He may remain with her as an immortal, but in so doing would destroy every aspect of what makes him human -- his identity as a father, a son, a husband, a king...a mortal, whose glory is in living well in the face of death.) The cosmos' order is nearly self-correcting in that most negative behavior results in self-destruction, though it does seem to require the occasional hand from Zeus through his agents, Heracles and those who are aware of this unitive order.  As in A Brief History of Thought, Ferry turns again and again to Stoicism, which he views as the fulfillment of this worldview.  Ferry is not a Stoic, but quite sympathetic. He's unusual in that he champions a secular worldview but takes mythology and philosophy seriously, as more than just-so stories and naval-gazing.  He manages to go almost the entire book without overly arcane references, a triumph for an academic.   I enjoyed this far more than A Brief History of Thought, at least as a recap of Greek mythology with a Stoic bent, but the title is overblown.

Dialogues and Essays

Seneca: Dialogues and Essays
© 2007 Oxford World's Classics
 translated by John Davie
263 pages

Care to read the thoughts of a man chosen to tutor an emperor? Seneca the Younger lived in the opening century of the Roman Empire, and was such an accomplished author that even the early Roman Church tried to claim him. I've previously read a collection of his letters (Letters from a Stoic), part of an exchange between Seneca and his friend Lucilius, but Analogs and Essays is far more sharply focused.  The theme of the letters ran toward the general; here, Seneca writes on particular topics, beginning with theodicy and touching on anger, happiness, tranquility of mind, sorrow, and -- oddly -- earthquakes.

This is a magnificent collection. If the translators' rendering in English is representative of the power Seneca imbued his Latin with, little wonder the early Church regarded a 'pagan' author with such admiration. Seneca here is clear, direct, and forcefully dramatic. After I finished the final piece, I re-read several essays over again, just to savor the experience.  Stoicism is the reigning influence, of course: the ideas of Zeno are utterly pervasive. In the opening essay "On Providence", Seneca asserts that the universe is a fundamentally sensible and moral place: nothing happens without good purpose,  and even the harshest of circumstances can prove a boon to the wise man. It matters not what we endure, Seneca writes, but how we endure it. Difficulties are not punishments: they are opportunities.  The worst of luck is in fact a sign of favor of the gods, that they have deemed a man worthy of his character being tested. While I don't particularly agree with the notion that everything that happens is the product of a deity enforcing character training on we poor mortals, I rather like the indomitable attitude, and the idea that can winnowed out from the text -- life is nothing without struggle. We are creatures made to run and strive, not sit idly whining.  

Although Stoicism dominates, Seneca is no puritan: he freely borrows from Epicurus, and not simply to 'know his enemy' as he piously defended himself in the Letters. Seneca sees Epicurus as quite wise, in fact, and not at all deserving the slander heaped upon him because of the abuses of those who call themselves his followers. Epicurus is in Seneca's eyes the soul of virtuous moderation -- and Seneca defends comfort and wealth at several points, perhaps feeling guilty at his own success. But lest we think him a hypocrite, when the time came Seneca followed in the path of his heroes, Cato and Socrates -- accepting death in the manner he advocated several times in this collection. (The final piece on earthquakes isn't quite as odd as it might seem: while Seneca spends most of it musing on how earthquakes might happen, he uses the then-recent destruction of Pompeii to point out that nothing in the material universe is truly reliable: only virtue matters, only it can maintain us against the ravages of fickle fortune.)

I have been sharing excerpts from this book on facebook's Stoics group, and they've found a very will-pleased audience there. This is the stuff of excellence; obviously of interest to those interested in philosophy, mindfulness, and wisdom literature, but a must-read for moderns who find such value in the Stoa as I do. Seneca's essays are elaborations on the potent thoughts of Epictetus' Handbook and Marcus Aurelius' Meditations.


This is one to re-read, remember, and recommend.

Dhammapada

Dhammapada, Annotated and Explained
© 2001 translated Max Müller, annotated by Jack Macguire
129 pages

Yesterday I drove to the state capital, Montgomery, and while there visited the main branch library. I noticed they offered several versions of the Dhammapada, one of the oldest and most accessible portions of Buddhist scripture. It contains some 400+ verses; short aphorisms on the way of enlightenment. Compasssion, self-discipline, and meditation are mainstay themes of the verses. The wisdom expressed here is universal: you don't need an education in Buddhism to grasp the essential messages. On the off chance that you are utterly and completely ignorant as to what Buddhism is about,  this translation comes with an introduction that sets things in context and is fully annotated to explain themes in Buddhist thought, or references to Indian culture those outside it might miss. The authors also occasionally include quotations from other Buddhist sources (other works, as well as living teachers like the Dalai Lama), separated from the main text, so that readers may examine a theme from multiple angles. The combined result is a great success. When I decide to purchase a copy of the Dhammapada for future reference and inspiration, this will be the version I will look for.

Ecclesiasticus

Ecclesiasticus or The Wisdom of Jesus, Son of Sirach
From The New English Bible, pp. 158 -251
© Oxford and Cambridge Universities 1970

Last week I read the Book of Wisdom, a title within the original Jewish and Christian bibles, but one discarded by Protestants. In an effort to learn more about the evolution of Judaism and Christianity, and out of my own interest in wisdom literature, I'm continuing to read from the more complete Catholic canon. Ecclesiasticus is also placed firmly within the genre of wisdom literature and is largely similar to Proverbs in being an extended collection of observations, maxims, and advice. The author also tacked on Book of Wisdom-like devotions to wisdom, poetic history, and two sections of praise worthy of the Psalms.

Unjust rage can never be excused; when anger tips the scale it is man's downfall. (1:22)

Ecclesiastisicus is definitely an interesting little book. I forgave its frequent praise of submission and obedience (to kings, priests, etc) as being a fault of the times which produced it,  and delighted in its frequent references to emotional self-control, especially given that the author seems to have been influenced by Stoic cosmology, using 'wisdom' in the opening section in the same way that a Stoic might refer to the divine fire: it is rational, fused into the universe, and given to mankind so that we might draw closer to God.  While a fair bit of the advice consists of objections worth reflecting on ("Do not overrate one man for his good lucks or be repelled by another man's appearance"), other advice stands out. I would have never expected to read admonishments to examine evidence and engage in reflection before making a judgment, and to put conscience before deferment to authority in a religious text that places so much emphasis on faith and obedience to authority.

I have still more in my mind to express;
I am full like the moon at mid-month.
Listen to me, my devout sons, and blossom like a rose planted by a stream.
Spread your fragrance like incense; and bloom like a lily.  (39: 12 - 14)

It's hard to get a handle on the author of Ecclesiasticus. He seems pious and introspective, yet at the same time encourages readers to make hay while the sun shines -- 'you will enjoy no luxuries in the grave'.  Like Epicures and the author of Ecclesiastes, he obviously doesn't consider pleasure a mortal failing: he only warns against excesses. Speaking of excesses, he unfortunately his own -- especially in the hate department. I am surprised that "Jesus, Son of Sirach" doesn't enjoy more name recognition in the United States: publishers have obviously missed two huge markets to sell his thoughts to: those who subscribe to the American Family Radio school of parenting would adore his brutal approach, which consists of breaking the will of sons and bemoaning virginal daughters as liabilities who are remarkable only for their potential bringing shame to the family; and gangsta rappers would delight in his fantastic misogyny, which crippled the closing two fifths of the book for me..  As I read line after demonizing line, culminating in the classic "Better a man's wickedness than a womans goodness; it is woman who brings shame and disgrace (42: 14)", I thought to myself that this guy had some serious frustration issues to work out. Obviously, he didn't have a happy love life.  His attitude toward slaves borders on schizophrenic: he warns readers to keep their slaves constantly working, or on the rack being tortured, lest they run away -- and then on the very next page, scarcely twenty lines later, suggests treating them like family. Considering this fellow's attitude toward wives, sons, and daughters, however, I would not be surprised if he recommended the rack for them. I'm still reeling from the moral whiplash: the lack of consistency is problematic, and why I would recommend Marcus Aurelius or a similar philosopher over this faithful, but unpredictable, wisdom-seeker.

All in all, an interesting book. It's not as revealing of the Jewish  and early Christian mind as the Book of Wisdom,   but if you excised a few choice sections there's a fair bit of value here. Just er, don't give it as a Mother's Day present.

The Book of Wisdom

The Book of Wisdom, or The Wisdom of Solomon
from the New English Bible, © 1970 Cambridge and Oxford University Press

Christian personification of Wisdom

My favorite book in the Judeo-Christian bible is that of Ecclesiastes,  in which a man known as 'the preacher' or 'the teacher'  engages in a search for the meaning of life, exploring both the 'low road' of exulting in pleasure and the 'higher' road of seeking wisdom and religious discipline. He finds that the best approach may be one of moderation, as neither hedonism nor obsessive scrupulosity create happiness over the long run. I think Ecclesiastes a humble and pragmatic book, and so when Isaac Asimov mentioned that a book of the original Jewish and Catholic bibles called The Book of Wisdom was similar to Ecclesiastes in genre, I determined that I had to read it.

Wisdom shines bright and never fades; she is easily discerned by those who love her, and by those who seek her she is found. She is quick to make herself known to those who desire knowledge of her; the man who rises early in search of her will not grow weary in the quest, for he will find her seated at his door. To set all one's thoughts on her is prudence in its perfect shape, and to lie wakeful in her cause is the short way to peace of mind. For she herself ranges in search of those who are worthy of her; on their daily path she appears with kindly intent, and in all their purposes meets them half-way. (6: 12-17)

The Book of Wisdom is not really a book of wisdom  in the same sense that Ecclesiastes and Proverbs are, though it does praise wisdom lavishly.  Proverbs refers to wisdom as a woman at least once, and the Book of Wisdom takes that personification and runs with it for page after page. I took perverse pleasure in reading these sections of the text as though they were a poem in praise of Athena, although the Christian personification of wisdom is referred to as Sophia. The prose or this translation thereof is beautiful and stylish. I relished reading the text aloud, although the viciousness of some of it amused me.  While the author doesn't tell you what qualifies as wisdom, he is quick to tell you it is the path to God, the path to both peace on earth and immortality. The godless who reject it are treated with as much hate as the author can muster, which I thought somewhat comical. The lack of wisdom is its own punishment, just as virtue is its own reward.

Protestants may not have heard of the Book of Wisdom because it -- along with books like Tobit, Judas, the Maccabees, and additions to Daniel and Easter -- were dropped by various Protestant denominations preparing their own bibles. These books were included in the original Jewish canon, the Septuagint, and would have been read by Paul, Jesus, and the other apostles. A later Jewish canon, compiled  around the turning of the second century, threw out those books which were written in Greek*. The Christian church didn't, though. The devotional poetry to wisdom aside, this book makes for interesting reading. It's not a very Jewish book, at least not by the standards of modern Jewish orthodoxy. Christianity and Islam have a completely different notion of Satan than Judaism does: the Christians turn a loyal servant of God who tests people and gives them opportunities to strengthen themselves by triumphing over temptation into a pathetic rebel who attacks people just to be a dick, but whose attacks are co-opted by God into use as trials.  In the Book of Wisdom, though, he is mentioned as spiteful, which seems a hint to me that the author shared the same villainous perception of Satan that some Jews around the turn of the century did -- Jesus refers to him as a roaring lion trying to eat people, and (I think) as a foul Dragon.  I don't know what happened to that train of thought within Judaism, but I think they're better for having lost it.

"But the souls of the just are in God's hand and torment shall not touch them. In the eyes of foolish men they seemed to be dead; their departure was reckoned as defeat, and their going from us as disaster. But they are at peace, for though in the sight of men they may be punished, they have a sure hope of immortality; and after a little chastisement they will receive great blessings, because God has tested them and found them worthy to be his."  (3: 1-9)

Protestants often attack the Catholic idea of Purgatory as unbiblical, and they're sort of right -- because they removed the parts of the Bible which refer to Purgatory from their own canon. It would be as if I held up the Jefferson Bible and said, "The idea that Jesus worked miracles is unbiblical!", or tore out Genesis from the Torah and said "The idea of a Great Flood is unbiblical!".   The Book of Wisdom specifically mentions that even the good who die must endure 'some chastisement', which sounds like the Catholic idea of purgatory as it has been explained to me by three sources -- two books and a deacon.  I'd be very much interested in finding out when this book was written, and in what part of the world, because the author is obsessed with bastards. He devotes several 'paragraphs'  to attacking people born out of wedlock, leading me to believe that there's some 'illegitimately-born' monarch or warlord somewhere that he's taking aim at. There's also a section that celebrates a martyr for wisdom, which probably also has a real-world inspiration.

If you're looking for wisdom literature, this isn't it -- but if you want to find a lovely poem about wisdom, or gain some insights into the evolution of Jewish and Christian thinking, I would suggest tracking this down.  The Oxford/Cambridge translation is very readable

* I think this may have had something to do with the fact that the Temple had just been destroyed by Rome (Year 70)  in retaliation for the Jewish revolt, which was prompted by the attempted installment of a statue inside the Temple to honor the emperor as god. Hatred of all things Greco-Roman may have prompted the dumping of these Jewish texts written in Greek.

The Essays of Ralph Waldo Emerson

The Essays of Ralph Waldo Emerson
©  Edited 1987, Alfred Ferguson
378 pages

Two summers ago I began to read Thoreau, and as I continue to find him philosophically compelling I wanted to read the works of Thoreau's contemporary and like-minded friend, Ralph Waldo Emerson.  They're available online, incidentally, and may be freely accessed here.  My volume contained "History" through to "Politics", and the nineteen essays between those two book ends have similarly austere titles that belie their far more flowery contents. Having mulled over them for four weeks, I come away feeling that most of the essays have escaped me entirely. "Self Reliance" riveted me, and as soon as I finished it I enthusiastically recommended it to several friends, and from other essays I gleaned a sense of Emerson's inner life and of the Transcendental worldview.

 Emerson is a poet at heart, a mystic; he values the inner voice of intuition more than beliefs based on thought-out syllogisms. Only the heart can realize the 'Oversoul', a vaguely pantheistic view of God. His prose reads  as poetry: "Dream delivers us to dream, and there is no end to illusion. Life is a train of moods like a string of beads, and, as we pass through them, they prove to be many-colored lenses which paint the world their own hue, and each shows only what lies in its focus."  Emerson can write pointedly, but the poetic influence in some essays imparts a subjective feel, as you would find in a collection of poetry. Having the essays available online is a boon, and I intend to keep chewing on them for a while longer.

For the moment, though, if you've an interested in Stoic philosophy or anarchist political thought, "Self Reliance" is an essay worth reading. Also,those few souls interested in Thoreau and Emerson's worldview (American Transcendentalism) will find "The Over-Soul" of most interest.

Related:

• Walden, Henry David Thoreau
• I to Myself, Thoreau
• On Civil Disobedience, Thoreau 

The Bhagavad Gita

The Bhagavad Gita: a New Translation
© 2000

Our Gita, the Muslims' Koran, your Bible -- it's always the simple things that catch your breath. 'Love thy neighbor as yourself.' - the Mahatma, Gandhi

Back in late 2006 I began a personal but intermittent cultural literacy project in which I aimed to begin reading about global religions, including tackling their originating documents when possible. Since then,  I’ve studied Judaism, Islam, Taoism, and Buddhism but have time and again avoided the vast subject of Hinduism. What prompted me out of my reluctant was the movie Gandhi, given the affectionate way the titular character regarded the book.

What attracted me to this translation was the cover art and a sewn-in burgundy ribbon intended to serve as a bookmark. The inside page quality and coloration were also obviously chosen with care, with an attention to quality that is rare and so much the more appreciated.

The Gita itself takes the form of a conversation between the god Krishna and a human being named Arjuna, who is reluctant to engage in a battle to reclaim his homeland. Although the articles I read introducing the Gita claim that Krishna disguises himself as Arjuna’s charioteer, in Mitchell’s translation he is referred to throughout the book as The Blessed Lord and speaks of himself in the first person as a divine entity. Midway through, he explicitly reveals himself as the God,  the being from which all deities find their source, and shows Arjuna his true physical form.

Before this, and following it, Arjuna and Krishna converse about the meaning of life, suffering, wisdom, the path to righteousness, the value of faith, and many diverse but related concepts. Krishna opens the conversation by encouraging Arjuna to have courage. Their conversation expands from there, Arjuna asking Krishna to elaborate on one question or another.

In reading, I saw the origins of ideas I associate with Hinduism -- reincarnation and universalism, for instance. I also saw the origins of ideas I associated with Buddhism (Krishna identifies desire as the enemy of wisdom).  Even translated into contemporary English, the Gita is not a light read, but Mitchell’s offering is lucid on the average, and I tended to find myself caught up in the narrative flow -- pausing only to refresh my memory of what a particular untranslated Hindi word meant.

Although translated poetry assuredly loses something in the process, Mitchell manages to convey beauty and simplicity here. Unlike his translations of other works (Gilgamesh and the Tao te Ching, which I've previewed but don't have access to), Mitchell refrains from 'updating' the text with modern idioms and allusions. If you're interested in reading the Gita for literacy purposes -- or just looking for poetry that reminds you Hindu and some Buddhist religious principles -- I'd say Mitchell's translation is promising.

The Emperor's Handbook

The Emperor's Handbook: A New Translation of the Meditations
© 2002, translated by David and Scot Hicks.
160 pages



I first read Marcus Aurelius’ Meditations in 2007 and have returned to selected passages from the book time and again. The good emperor is often in my thoughts, a severe figure attempting to live and govern wisely, but beset by the vastness of his responsibilities as ruler of the Roman Imperium. I’ve been looking for quality translations of both Marcus Aurelius and Epictetus to purchase this year, and I was excited to learn of the existence of The Emperor’s Handbook, a modern-English translation of Aurelius written by two brothers. One brother translated the literal Greek, while the other used the literal translation to convey the passages’ actual meaning as they understood it. The result is direct, simple, and unadorned to the point of austerity.

I predict this book will have two audiences:  those interested in Aurelius’ philosophy and thoughts, and those interested in how those thoughts have been rendered here. I especially enjoyed reading this for its straightforwardness and lucidity. Aside from the occasional allusion, I had no difficulty in understanding what Aurelius was attempting to say to himself here. I compared various passages from more formal translations, and their substantive integrity appears to be intact. Although some shorter statements fall a little flat,  this is an overall improvement to other versions I've read. While I sometimes missed more elegant phrasings* from other translations,  this translation is more communicative. I think  The Emperor's Handbook will be well-received, particularly for those exploring the philosophy of the man.

Speaking of those explorers, what is it about Marcus Aurelius that compels translations and commentaries of his work today, hundreds of years after his death?  He seems the model of a philosopher-king, a ruler governing with wisdom and virtue. As Roman emperor, Aurelius' power is unparalleled and unchecked: if potential excesses are to be prevented, he himself must prevent them. As a Stoic, Aurelius believes that his life must be guided by Reason -- keeping in mind not only his duty to his people and the gods, but the difference between what he can control and what he cannot. Aurelius may be emperor, but his primary focus is governing himself well to prepare him for that task.  He does this through extensive self-counsel: he reminds himself constantly of his principles, reflecting on his life as it relates to the greater pattern.

The crisp passages vary in size from one-liners to page-long reflections, serving both to remind Aurelius of general ideas and explore ways of putting those ideas into action. For instance: since we are not truly bothered by men's actions, but by our reaction to them, what reason is there for growing angry about others' shortcomings, like poor personal hygiene?  Aurelius emerges as a fascinating character -- a pious monk, a dutiful soldier, and a patient administrator who longs for a quiet life of contemplation and philosophy but who is compelled to take on the heavy mantle of responsibility amidst the  stressful circumstances of war, natural disasters, and difficult people. It is a marvel to me that he withstood the pressures as well as he did, and The Emperor's Handbook reminds me why I was attracted to Aurelius' Stoicism in the first place. I recommend it with ease.

You can preview some of the book's language here, or browse selections from more formal translations here and here. The latter links to my personal favorites from my first time reading Aurelius.

Related:

• The Spiritual Teachings of Marcus Aurelius, Mark Forstater
• Virtual University lecture on Marcus Aurelius, one which I've viewed several times. The link is to a post of mine in which the playlist is embedded.

* Compare the Hicks': "This world is change; this life, opinion.” to “the universe is change; our life is what our thoughts make it.” I prefer the latter expression: it seems to communicate more. This was the weakest passage in the book for me, and the only one I took any real exception to.

Humanist Anthology

Humanist Anthology
© 1995 ed. Margaret Knight and revised editor James Herrick
220 pages

Know then thyself, presume not God to scan;
The proper study of Mankind is Man.
Plac'd on this isthmus of a middle state,
A being darkly wise, and rudely great:
With too much knowledge for the Sceptic side,
With too much weakness for the Stoic's pride,
He hangs between; in doubt to act, or rest,
In doubt to deem himself a God, or Beast;
In doubt his Mind or Body to prefer,
Born but to die, and reas'ning but to err;
Alike in ignorance, his reason such,
Whether he thinks too little, or too much:
Chaos of Thought and Passion, all confus'd;
Still by himself abus'd, or disabus'd;
Created half to rise, and half to fall;
Great lord of all things, yet a prey to all;
Sole judge of Truth, in endless Error hurl'd:
The glory, jest, and riddle of the world! - Alexander Pope

In a creative mood a few months back, I began assembling a personal anthology of sorts -- collecting philosophical articles, essays, quotations, and poetry that I have found to be inspirational, highly informative, or otherwise helpful in my philosophical-spiritual journey. Thus, I was quickly interested by this book's title, as it seemed similar to what I was doing with my own reading. Humanist Anthology collects religious, scientific, philosophical, political, and literary essays and quotations with a humanistic theme ranging in time from what Karen Armstrong called "the age of transformation" to the end of the 20th century. Authors included exhibit a good deal of diversity: there are obvious choices like Voltaire and Robert Ingersoll, not-so-obvious choices in Seneca and deists, and at least one questionable choice in Herbert Spencer. (I will be cautious in criticizing this: I associate Spencer with the inequality-justifying ideology of Social Darwinism that soils Darwin's name, but Spencer's own views might not have reflected the view of the robber barons and neo-conservatives who espouse it under a different name.)

Themes and some contributing authors to them include:

• the necessity of free Reason as a means of finding the truth and guiding our lives. (Voltaire, Thomas Paine)
• the feasibility and indeed superiority of ethical systems based on reason and empathy instead of "revealed" and supernaturally-based premises. (the Stoics, Jeremy Bentham, Charles Darwin, G.E. Moore)
• criticism of organized religion, particularly Christianity given that the majority of authors included were western thinkers (Mark Twain, Bertrand Russell)
• criticism of the idea of a benevolent god (Robert Ingersoll, Mark Twain)
• criticism of pro-deity arguments (T.H. Huxley, Robert Ingersoll)
• the role of wonder (Albert Einstein, Bertrand Russell)
• the importance of idealism (Sir Julian Huxley, M.N. Roy)

There's a fair bit of balance here. Contributions are sometimes short, sometimes long: a scoffing paragraph by Twain on religion may follow a passionate plea by Ingersoll for the liberty of thought, again followed by a more serious and involved essay on the substance of ethical living and how one may define "good". Although there are many famous names here, there are also more anonymous ones whose words reveal fascinating lives -- like a French abbot (Jean Meslier) who for years had been a closet skeptic, who used his death to apologize to his flock. The book itself is not self-congratulatory: it doesn't just offer a humanist more eloquent expressions of his or own beliefs. The works here often made me reflect on my own views, and I felt reproached more than once -- mostly by Seneca. The inclusion of humanistic politics was particularly interesting. I think highly of the book, for it is such a marvelously Humanist work -- collecting not only the views of religious skeptics and curmudgeons but of passionate idealists like Ingersoll. Today's humanism could do with more passion.

I would recommend the book to any reader with a high-school reading level, including to religious moderates. Alas, I fear you will be unable to find the book, for it is out of print and used copies on Amazon are being offered for perhaps too high a price. I will be working with the book over the weekend and hope to produce a list of authors included and the works cited for the benefit of those interested who cannot find the book. The results will be posted on my philosophy and humanities blog.

Oh, unhappy human kind
In those grim gods, your own creation,
What anguish for yourselves you find,
For babes born what tribulation!
Not palms in prostrate prayer outspread,
Not all the blood on alters shed
Is piety, but that calm mind,
Whose fruit is tranquil contemplation. - Lucretius, translated by J.S.L. Gilmour and R.E. Lantham

Wisdom of the Ages

Wisdom of the Ages: A Modern Master Brings Eternal Truths into Everyday Life
(Strangely, the subtitle on Amazon is "60 Days to Enlightenment." It seems to be a different edition with 20 more pages.)
© 1998 Wayne Dyer
268 pages


My local public library has taken to rearranging its shelves this spring after a period of discarding (a period I missed, otherwise my personal library would have gained substantially), meaning that I can no longer flit from shelf to shelf in the certain knowledge gained after a lifetime of experience in this library. This has led to me accidentally seeing books in areas where I was not looking for them, leading me to Wisdom of the Ages by Wayne Dyer. Dyer, if you recall, penned a book interpreting the Tao te Ching that I read recently. Dyer is something of a self-help guru whose advice reminds me a little too much of stuff you'd find on the Oprah book club list at times, but which is generally rationally kosher*.

Words of Wisdom consists of quotations from philosophical and religious teachers as well as authors and poets and interpretive explanations on those quotations by Dyer. The book consists of sixty chapters, each devoted to a particular concept that Dyer finds important (self-reliance, kindness, inspiration, leadership, etc) and each introduced by one of the quotations or literary excerpts. The chapters are arranged in a manner that seems to be chronological based on the thinker whose work is quoted. Only one author (Ralph Waldo Emerson) is repeated: Dyer draws from both his poetry and his essay work. Given when they lived, the classic philosophical and religious teachers are quickly exhausted and the bulk of the book's content is drawn from poetry with occasional breaks from people like Henry David Thoreau and Gandhi.

The individual chapters are written well, and I think Dyer does a good job of explaining the poetry. Individuals may agree or disagree with Dyer's interpretations of the many poems included, but there were poems that made little sense to me until I read Dyer's explanations for them. Other poems, like Frosts' "The Road Not Taken" and "If" by Kipling, are more straightforward. As far as value goes, I think it's mostly good advice. While some of his thoughts definitely remind me too much of The Secret and similar works, I'd say the majority of it makes sense. The questionable chapters deal with the power of the mind. I am well aware of our ability to change our perceptions of reality through the power of our minds -- learning to control our emotions and direct our thoughts -- I'm very "skeptical" about our ability to change reality itself with "thought energy", as Dyer claims to do when projecting happiness and calmness at bickering people in the grocery store. Whenever Dyer makes a claim like this, he attempts to ward off questioners like myself by saying "No one knows enough to be a pessimist" -- that is, we don't know that we can't move clouds with our minds, so what's the harm in believing so? I think you could test cloud-moving abilities, but Dyer does not quote from scientists. Although he quotes Buddha in promoting reason as the only way of arriving at the truth, it seems from my perspective that Dyer doesn't quite give reason its due.

What this means for the reader depends on the reader. I think Dyer is generally harmless: his chapters are about individuals taking charge of their lives -- their beliefs and their perceptions. He offers tips at the end of each chapter to help people implement the advice of each chapter, just as he did with Change Your Thoughts, Change Your Life. Maybe some of his other books are more compromised, but I think this is generally a solid read. I enjoyed the experience. I may read more Dyer in the future.





* Now there's a contradiction in terms.

Change Your Thoughts, Change Your Life

Change Your Thoughts, Change Your Life: Living the Wisdom of the Tao
© 2007 Wayne Dyer
416 pages

In continuing my philosophical and comparative religion studies, I'm reading another book on the Tao Te Ching. While The Guiding Light of Lao Tzu was more or less a commentary on the Tao Te Ching, Dyer's book is a "devotional". The book consists of eighty-one short essays, one for each 'verse' or 'chapter' in Tzu's work. Each essay is introduced with the 'verse' in full, and Dyer then draws on a variety of translations and commentaries to explore the meaning of it. In writing on the greater meaning of the Tao Te Ching, Dyer will often look for connections to other religious or philosophical workers, including poetry. After explaining what he thinks is the meaning, Dyer tries to distill that meaning into a couple of short statements, which he then commets on. Each essay ends with a section titled "Do the Tao Now", in which Dyer urges the reader to put Taoism into practice and makes suggestions. Some of his suggestions are a bit...severe. For instance, he asks the reader not to fight colds, but to live in harmony with them, and to abstain from watching news footage that mentions violence.

The book is a curious blend of philosophical advice and "New Agey" thinking, making every reading session pretty varied. Dyer's explanations make more sense than the ones in The Guiding Light, although past a certain point there's no point in explaining some of the Tao's statements. Albert Schweitzer commented in his Out of my Life and Thought that Taoism is much more intuitive than western philosophies. Taoism makes more sense to me now, and however uncomfortable some portions of it made me, I generally enjoyed the book and would like to revisit it in the future.

The Guiding Light of Lao Tzu

The Guiding Light of Lao Tzu : A New Translation and Commentary on the Tao Teh Ching
© 1982 Henry Wei
234 pages

In the interests of cultural literacy, I've been trying to get a handle on major religions I have little knowledge of: this mostly extends to the "eastern" religions, as I've read on Judaism and Islam in the past -- although my Islamic literacy is still quite limited. As evidenced by previous' weeks' reading, I've been poking into Buddhism. Now, my interested piqued by a quotation from Lao Tzu posted in someone's forum signature, I turn to Taoism. The book is divided into two sections. In the first, the author addresses various topics within Taoism. Wei begins with an introduction to Taoism. The "Tao" is alternatively the way people should follow and some thing behind or underpinning the universe, although it seems to be separate from the idea of God. It is described in various "mysterious" ways.

Although I found the first section cumbersome, my interest picked up after he began writing on topics relating to meditation. Throughout this section -- and indeed, throughout the book -- Wei tries to connect the Tao Teh Ching with scripture from the Judeo-Christian bible. The second section of the book consists of the Tao Teh Ching itself with annotations and explanations provided by Wei. Because Wei had already talked about interpetations of topics within the text, I wasn't quite as confused as I might have been when reading the poetic and "mysterious" passages. The book seems to have been written for the benefit of rulers, so some of the advice is impractical for those of us who don't manage kingdoms of peasants. There wasn't as much ethical philosophy as I expected, but it wasn't terrible reading.

When the world goes in accord with Tao,
Horses are used for hauling manure.
When the world is out of keeping with Tao,
Horses are raised in the suburbs for war.
No sin is greater than yielding to desires.
No misfortune is greater than not knowing contentment.
No fault is greater than hankering after wealth.
Therefore, know contentment.
He who knows contentment is always content.

This was the only bit of the translation I copied, although there were other bits and phrases "a hallway filled with jade is not easily guarded" that I liked. I'm not exactly sure why I copied the above down: I don't agree with it fully*, and parts of it like the last line seem to state the obvious.


*Desires aren't always unhealthy to fulfill.

The Book of Ecclesiastes

The Book of Ecclesiastes.
© 1998 Tremper Longman III
284 pages, plus indices

Man's fate is like that of the animals; the same fate awaits them both: As one dies, so dies the other. All have the same breath; man has no advantage over the animal. Everything is meaningless. All go to the same place; all come from dust, and to dust all return. Who knows if the spirit of man rises upward and if the spirit of the animal goes down into the earth?" So I saw that there is nothing better for a man than to enjoy his work, because that is his lot. For who can bring him to see what will happen after him?

A few years ago, I read a quotation that astonished me. My astonishment rose not from the quotation itself, but from its source. The above is from the Judeo-Christian bible, believe it or not. Intrigued, I picked up my old Bible and turned to the Hebrew scriptures and read the the entire book. It was only twelve chapters or so, but my mind was boggled by the fact that such a book was in the Bible. The author purports to be Solomon and claims that he wants to share his wisdom: life is pretty meaningless. He describes his efforts to find meaning in life: he accrues wisdom, chases skirts (well, robes), builds lavish palaces, collects gold, pursues fame in war -- but everything seems to be fairly pointless. The author of Ecclesiastes -- let's call him the Teacher for the sake of convenience -- notes that regardless of what you do, you're still going to die. He notes that evil is visited upon the good and good is visited upon the evil, apparently without any purpose whatsoever. What came up in my reading was that although everything was ultimately meaningless, small pleasures could be achieved on Earth. What I disliked about the book was the Teacher's admonition that people should just obey God and the king, because there's no point in resisting them.

Despite that, the rest of the book strikes me as interesting. As someone with a disregard for money, fame, fortune, chasing skirts, and pedantry, I find much to be sympathetic with here. When I read the first volume of Asimov's Guide to the Bible, I wondered if there were books written on Ecclesiastes that were similar in tone. The closest I found was this book by Temper Longman III. I requested the book online through my library's network website, and so I missed the distasteful intention of the author to reconcile the book with Christian theology. Fortunately, however, this intention is not really made manifest until the last paragraph of the book.

The commentary is fairly straightforward. Longman devotes the introductory chapters to examining the book's author, background, style, genre, and canonicity. The author's view is that the book should be not be considered canon, but should instead be viewed as the collection of proverbs. In taking this approach, the author avoids having to address some of the book's internal inconsistencies. It also saves those of us who do not subscribe to Christian theology the potential annoyance of the author attempting to cram Jesus into every crack in the book. After the introductory chapters, the author moves verse by verse through the book. Longman always precedes each chapter with an introduction, then inserts the verses to be commented on, and then comments on each one individually. He then ends each chapter with a summary. To my surprise and delight, the author doesn't seem to impose outside meaning on anything: he explains what various Hebrew words might mean, shows the different interpretations by different commentators, and introduces his own. Generally there's not a lot of disagreement. When Longman does speculate, he makes it public, which I find admirable. In the last paragraph of the book, though, he posits that Jesus is the answer to the meaningless of life that the Teacher observed. He says that the book in final analysis "must be understood in the light of the canon".

In general, I found the book agreeable. I don't agree with his final assertion, but it's really a moot point. If he feels the need to ret-con his philosophy, that's his business. The appeal of the book is limited to those who are interested in Ecclesiastes, though.

The Art of Living

The Art of Living
Epictetus, translated by Sharon Lebell (© 1994)
115 pages

One great asset I have access to is my university library. Being a university library, its historical nonfiction offerings are far greater than any public library (except for perhaps the behemoths like the New York Public Library). Thus, in addition to modern historical books, we have the books of history -- Herodotus' Histories, Newton's Principles of Mathematics, and a great sampling of Greek philosophy. My own worldview is inspired partly by Greek philosophy, particularly Stoicism. Epictetus is a name I'm familiar with, but I've never actually read from his Discourses -- written "transcripts" of his lectures -- until this week.

The edition I found last night is a modern translation and sometimes uses English expressions like "two steps forward, one step back". There are other translation in far more poetic and formal English, but I went with this more modern one because it seemed to be very readable. I did read through some of the more formal translations after I finished this book, simply to establish a comparison, and based on that, I think there is nothing lost. Epictetus was a Stoic philosopher. His Stoicism is classical in that he, like Zeno (the founder of Stoicism) believed in an Ultimate, in Deity -- in the idea that there was a divine order to the Cosmos, that everyone had a place in it, and that reason had been given to humanity so that we could transcend our untrained animal nature and become like the ultimate.

True philosophy doesn't involve exotic rituals, mysterious liturgy, or quaint beliefs. [...] It is, of course, the love of wisdom. It is the art of living a good life. [...] Philosophy is intended for everyone, and it is authentically practiced only by those who wed it with action in the world toward a better life for all.

Epictetus believes that philosophy is not for religious leaders and professional philosophers -- it is for everyone, to help everyone live good lives. He says that philosophy "must be rescued" from the aforementioned types of people. Although the book isn't lengthy, every word in it is full of wisdom. I did not agree with everything he said (as it was recorded and translated), but the overwhelming majority of the book is solid. The value of his teachings is incredible, and I find myself wondering just how so much could be known and expressed so eloquently just to one man. When I read a book, I typically keep a page of notebook paper nearby so that I can write down any interesting quotes. For this book? I have twelve pages of quotations. I had planned to post them on my humanities blog, but I have far too many to fit in one post -- I will have to break them down.

The essence of his teaching is self-mastery over one's own life. The classic Stoic idea -- that pain is caused when desires and reality do not conform to one another, and so one must shape desire to fit reality. Epictetus, like Marcus Aurelius, holds that it is not "things" that pain us but our reaction to them. Controlling our responses to what happens to us, to what is said to us or about us, is one of the dominant threads of the book. The other concerns the choice to think about responding -- to beginning to use reason to master yourself, to hold yourself to ideals so that you can live the virtuous life. These two ideas dominate the book. Although the lectures are not tightly organized the way 21st century readers are used to books being organized, all of the elements of a in-depth book are here. Epictetus does not only describe how one should live a "virtuous" life, he explains what virtue means to him and why it cannot be achieved in any other way except for mastery of the self. "Personal merit cannot be achieved through our associations with people of excellence. [...] Other people's triumphs and excellence belong to them. Likewise, your possessions may have excellence, but you yourself don't derive excellence from them," he says.

Epictetus advises his readers (or listeners) to not concern themselves with other people's opinions of them, but to simply enjoy our lives, not allow ourselves to become undone by events of our lives, and to excel in what we do -- to practice our crafts and to relate to one another as best we can. Society's rules are also no judge -- both the "ends and means" are not conducive to creating virtue. "Socially taught beliefs are frequently unreliable. So many of our beliefs have been acquired through accident and irresponsible or ignorant teaching. Many of our beliefs are so deeply ingrained that they are hidden from our own view." (My sociology teacher would add that the power of culture is that we don't realize that culture is shaping our ideas.) Virtue, in his eyes, is its own reward. He also advocates living as part of a global, human community -- he speaks of the "human contract" and says we ought to live our lives to serve one another. (The "family of humanity" value is common among Stoics.)

I could easily write a term paper on the ideas in this book -- I have twelve pages of notes, after all. This isn't the place for that, though. I found the book to be...incredibly interesting, and very stimulating. Even as I read, I felt as if my thoughts were being slowly ordered -- tuned, to use a musical metaphor. It was well-worth the read, and I am glad that I took care to write down my favorite thoughts. This will be pick of the week.

Be suspicious of convention. Take charge of your own thinking. Rouse yourself from the daze of unexamined habit. Popular perceptions, values, and ways of doing things are rarely the wisest. Many pervasive beliefs would not pass appropriate tests of rationality. Conventional thinking -- its means and ends -- is essentially not credible and uninteresting. Its job is to preserve the status quo for overly self-defended individuals and institutions.

Judge ideas and opportunities on the basis of whether they are life-giving. Give your assent to that which promotes humaneness, justice, beneficial growth, kindness, possibility, and benefit to the human community. Examine things as they appear to your own mind; objectively consider what is said by others, and then establish your own convictions.