As much as I like everything I’ve read *about* Lucretius, I have to admit that I have really been struggling with the actual text of On the Nature of Things. You see, it’s a poem from about 70 BCE which seeks to explain the Epicurean basis for understanding the world.
The Epicureans were followers of Epicurus who formed communes under his direction and for hundreds of years afterwards. Epicurus had a number of insights about our relationship to the supernatural, to the earthly world and to our own corporeal being – and he is considered by some to be the founder of modern scientific thinking. All interesting stuff, though unfortunately most of his writings have been lost over time and so we rely on poems like this one by Lucretius which is a couple hundred pages long and seeks to explain the order in which matter is organized (swerving atoms), the goals of human life (finding pleasure), our relationship to death (which should mean as little to us as what happens before we are born), proper observance of the gods (they don’t really care about us, so let’s not base our lives on trying to please them in frightened supersition) and a host of other topics core to Epicurean thought.
What struck me upon first reading of the text was the physical science that Lucretius describes – that is a world based on matter (atoms being a constituent of everything), nothing comes from nothing, the universe is a closed system – and most important to the modern scientific method: we must rely on observations based in the senses rather than superstition to determine the facts of our world. Within the course of the poem he engages in some debate with other theorists of his day – Heroclitus, Empedocles, and Anaxagoras – calling them out on their deficiencies in reasoning out the elemental nature of the world. Lucretius maintains that atoms are all around us, travelling at great speeds in relatively stable patterns – but every once and awhile they “swerve” which can set new chains of being into motion and stop the order of life from being so predictable. From what I have read *about* On the Nature of Things this particular concept bears some similarity to “the indeterminacy postulated by modern quantum physics” – stunning the modern reader (we are often so smug in believing that all our thinking is new aren’t we?).
Note: There is a book out this fall called The Swerve: How the World Became Modern by Stephen Greenblatt who credits Lucretius as the unsung hero of modern thought. Several articles have run in the past month about this book and the influence of Lucretius (through the rediscovery of his book in the 1400s) on the development of human culture. Such is one today in the Independent. (I am on the library wait list for this book).
On second reading, Lucretius’ thoughts on the soul and mortality jumped out at me. I attribute this to a 3-lecture series from Notre Dame University I watched in between reads – (for anyone who hasn’t grokked iTunes University… it’s an amazing resource and all free). In any case – Lucretius posits a soul made up of anima (based in the body) and animus (based in the mind which is located in the heart) which is comprised of special atoms that infuse us with our nature and consciousness. But although these souls are constituted of *something*, that something disperses when we die and becomes the constituents of other things. Thus Lucretius ends the superstitious cycle: there is not life after death, no possibility of Hades, no reason to fear retribution in the afterworld. And, he says, why would you fear death when you don’t worry about before you were born – for these are the same state? (I loved that bit – I’ve never considered the before life and the after life to be the same before reading that).
The whole Epicuran approach is fascinating to me – that life is about seeking pleasure (but not the pleasures which make us unhappy through excess or unnaturalness), that to be happy we must free ourselves from superstitions which bind us in fear. that we must ground ourselves in all the senses to find the truth. And I appreciate how Lucretius (and Epicurus) don’t just throw the baby out with the bathwater on faith – the Gods don’t get struck down in this rational approach – but it’s just commonsense that the Gods are too busy and lofty to care much about each and every one of us individuals. Their communal approach to a life which included women and slaves in the public sphere is also striking for its day.
We’re discussing this work in class tomorrow morning and I expect to add more to this post afterwards (or create a new one) – plus I am using this text for my first term paper – even though (or especially because) I have struggled with it so. One of the great things about having so many and such varied readings – is that for the first time in a long while I am realizing the value of slogging through difficult material, seeking supplementary sources and digging deeper for the rewards of understanding and integrating new idas. This is a work that I’m feeling a deep respect for, even as I feel that I am only skating on the surface of it for the time being.
Here is the latest of my sewing endeavours – a first experiment with knit fabrics in the form of a charcoal rib-knit that I got at DressSew for $6 per metre. Unfortunately I have a tendency to make things too large – it has something to do with where my measurements sit in the middle of two pattern sizes – I always choose the larger when I should probably choose the smaller. But I really hate the idea of things being too small -so instead they come out too big. On the other hand, a slouchy tunic is a nice thing to have in a wardrobe so I’m not complaining too much about this one. My favourite detail about the whole thing? I got to use some ceramic star buttons that Brian bought me last year at a community craft sale.
In any event – this is my newest self-made wardrobe addition and I’m happy to have finally broken through my fear of knit fabrics!
(The above is highlights of a marionette version of Antigone produced this year…..)
Antigone is the reading which has affected me the most (in the tragic sense) thus far in our curriculum. A young woman who has lost almost everything – her father and mother, her two brothers in one terrible waitron day, her royal place as her uncle Creon assumes the throne. And now the ultimate insult – she is barred from attending her brother Polynices in performing burial rites to appease the gods of her tradition.
A tale about the transition from kinship to state-rule, a tragic ode to star-crossed lovers, a reminder that no matter how powerful a head of state believes himself to be – the gods can always do him one better. Antigone is a nasty work in which King Creon pays the ultimate price – losing his son, his wife, and the faith of his people.
Some notes for class discussion:
Antigone: The representation of kinship and loyalty to family. She insists on observing burial rights for her brother even though his is believed to be a traitor to his state. Sentenced to death by Creon, Antigone is guided by her innate sense of justice and morality and thus is unable to escape her fate.
Creon: Embodiment of the state and the right of kingly rule. It is Creon who decrees that Antigone must die for her attempt to observe burial rights, arguing that he has the right to determine for the people what must happen. Creon spends an inordinate amount of time focused on whether or not his subjects are being bought off with money:
Money! Nothing worse
in our lives, so current, rampant, so corrupting.
Money — you demolish cities, root men from their homes,
you train and twist good minds and set them on
to the most atrocious schemes. No limit,
you make them adept at every kind of outrage,
every godless crime — money!
Because this is a recurrent theme, one wonders if the point Sophocles is making is that with the rise of the state (and the dwindling of traditional kinship ties), subjects are more easily bought and sold and therefore less trustworthy.
Haemon: Son of Creon and fiance of Antigone, Haemon attempts to reason with his father but is ultimately overtaken by his youthful passion. He represents the argument for a more inclusive state and leadership, a ruler who listens to the people. The scene in the play with the most pathos is that which finds Haemon clinging to Antigone (who has hanged herself rather than starve to death behind a brick wall) before charging at his father and then killing himself with his own sword. Haemon demonstrates the hazards of dismissing his subjects and his own family by delivering the ultimate punishment in the form of self-sacrifice.
Antigone’s death: The death Creon chooses for Antigone is emblematic of what she represents. In his final verdict, Creon determines that Antigone should be walled away with a few provisions to keep her going for a few days but ultimately she will be left to starve. This is clearly a metaphor for subsuming family/kinship relations in the service of the state; they cannot be destroyed outright but must wither away in a forgotten place. Antigone refuses this fate by committing suicide, thus striking at the intention of Creon even in her death.
Tiresias: This blind prophet attends Creon near the end to remind him that men can not override the gods and the great traditions. Reason and wisdom must be the governing principles.
Underlining the tragedy of Antigone – the final chorus reminds us that:
Wisdom is by far the greatest part of joy,
and reverence toward the gods must be safeguarded.
The mighty words of the proud are paid in full
with mighty blows of fate, and at long last
those blows will teach us wisdom.
Let the rest of us hope that the blows which lead us to wisdom are not delivered so harshly as Creon’s.
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Post-class discussion notes
I was surprised in class by how many people wanted to come down firmly on one side or the other of the Antigone-Creon conflict rather than appreciating the rigidity in each character is the tragedy and the lesson. In particular I was curious about the argument made by some that without firm rule of law there is no order or society and that to have civilized existence, there is no room for action based on moral imperatives. Which to me ignores our basic human nature and impulse for social connection… rather than break the law to help out a family member (by stealing medicine – for example), we must categorically follow elected (or traditional) rulers. This is a position I (obviously, if you know me) can not accept as I believe not only do we have the moral imperative to act according to conscience, but I also believe that it is people breaking the rules and pushing on the edges which bring greater change over time. It is only through Antigone’s wild actions that Creon is forced (too late for him, unfortunately) to reckon with what true governance of the people means.
I have long wondered about some people’s willingness to agree with, and follow along with whatever the state suggests – simply because these are our elected leaders. I’m not sure if many of the people who recommend this course have actually met many of our elected leaders, or paid much attention to what they have to say – because clearly so much of the time they don’t speak from a rational place but are blinded by their own prejudices and ideologies. People like Stephen Harper are good at faking rationality – it’s something to do with his impassive appearance I suppose – but there is nothing rational in wanting to make Canada more like the United States (a stated goal of Harper) where so much more of the population lives in poverty. For even if it makes a few float higher, it sinks the boat for the rest of us which is antiethical to a person who claims to be responsible for “the people”. Likewise the refusal of the current government to acknowledge climate change or the environmental degradation of industry – the only framework in which this can be argued for (or ignored in the case of the Con’s inaction) is one in which money is all that matters – as if (to paraphrase Chief Seattle) you can eat money when all the rest of it (rivers, oceans, lands) are sucked dry. Though I suppose those with money will just stockpile food – which makes it okay for them.
Opinions on the current regime aside, I have never believed in an authority greater than my own sense of reason and responsibility. Which also means that I reserve the right to non-violent action for change. Not only that, but I believe a democracy must make room for all citizens to be heard and that democracy is strengthened by protest as it indicates citizen involvement in the shaping of their country. Antigone’s protest ultimately has the power to re-orient Creon as a ruler, but given his tragic end (destroyed by the death of his son and wife), he serves instead as an apocryphal reminder to the rulers who follow.
Over the weekend I re-read the books of Mencius for my class this week – fortunately in a little cabin by the sea on the west coast of Vancouver Island – a perfect place for quiet meditation and reflection on the words of this fourth century Chinese philosopher. A Confucian thinker, Mencius is considered one of the most important, if only because he greatly elaborated and wrote on the precepts of Confucius and was an advisor to the monarchs of his day.
I’m planning on writing my first term paper on Mencius and others – with specific attention to the prescriptions for living a “good life” that various traditions suggest. WIth Mencius these precepts are somewhat simple to pick out, as his texts are sets of advice and parables recorded as some form of instruction to those rulers to whom he had allegiance – not unlike Machiavelli’s The Prince – which we will be reading later in the course.
Most of my familiarity with Chinese philosophy comes from a brief dalliance with Taoism in my twenties – and while I claim no special insight from that early interest – it is worth noting that Lao Tzu’s writing seem a natural starting place for Mencius both in form and content. While the writings of Mencius are not nearly as poetic as the Tao Te Ching (first published in written form many years after the death of Lao Tzu and Mencius), the style of breaking each teaching into a section or parable is shared between those texts – Mencius being more plain-spoken and thus his message more accessible to the modern reader.
The key theme in Mencius is benevolence in leadership, with all other prescriptions following from there. Mencius’ thoughts on humility, tradition, ancestor-observance, conservation, moderation in lifestyle, natural order, human nature, leadership by example, self-reflection, duty and loyalty are all exposed through the many examples and stories which he draws on – some being merely conversations he is recounting for posterity. His tendency is towards a human nature that has the capacity for extremes (in cruelty, in possession, in carelessness, in acquisition) but has the ability for moderation and dignity in all choices. His arguments for benevolent leadership are based in reason… for a leader who ensures his people are provided for is a true king and by Mencius’ logic, people are controlled more easily by compassion than by cruelty. Not only that, but because enjoyments are better enjoyed in company than by oneself – and selfish pursuits breed resentment, it only makes sense that those who have should share with those who haven’t.
To wit – one of my favourite passages:
King Hsuan of Ch’i asked, ‘Is it true that the park of King Wen was seventy li square?’
‘It is so recorded,’ answered Mencius.
‘Was it really as large as that?’
‘Even so, the people found it small.’
‘My park is only forty li square, and yet the people find it too big. Why is this?
‘True, King Wen’s park was seventy li square, but it was open to woodcutters as well as catchers of pheasants and hares. As he shared it with the people, is it any wonder that they found it small?
‘When I first arrived at the borders of your state, I inquired about the major prohibitions before I dared enter. I was told that within the outskirts of the capital there was a park forty li square in which the killing of a deer was as serious an offence as the killing of a man. This turns the park into a trap forty li square in the midst of the state. Is it any wonder that the people find it too big?’
To Mencius, our human nature – what separates us from the animals – are the four “limbs” of compassion, shame, courtesy and modesty, and an understanding of what is right and wrong. Compassion brings us to benevolence, shame impresses on us our duty, courtesy and modesty show the way to the observance of rites (respect and traditions), and the ability to grasp right and wrong give us wisdom. It is these four foundations on which he counsels the rulers – observing at one point that we can never straighten others by bending ourselves, and again at another that the people are not fooled by unctuous words in the stead of benevolent action.
Humility is another theme to which Mencius frequently returns as part of his teaching that any man has the ability to become a sage – given the right approach to living. It is only through humility that we can be students as often as teachers, and that we do not take liberties above others which we would not taken above us. Because we will be treated in accordance with how we treat others, Mencius counsels that we act out of valour, integrity and generosity – not assuming the motivations of others, and being aware of the consequences before we speak ill of others.
He claims, moreover, that to live without benevolence, wisdom, duty and courtesy is to be a slave (to baser urges? to material possessions?).
Essentially, Mencius provides a straight-forward manual to better living through moderation – stripped of references to love (except as brotherly, or that owed family out of duty), or any of the passions except to deride them. He prescribes an ascetic approach to life as something to be balanced carefully in order to achieve the proper way without unnecessary conflict. The early Taoist concept of Wu Wei (effortless action or action without force – roughly translated) obviously influences the approach of Mencius – – one in which human struggle is minimized and the individual strives to stay on the path that is most naturally before them.
Four years ago today, at 4 pm, I walked into a restaurant in my neighbourhood and met the man who is my match. One year ago today, at 4 pm, I married him at this spot on the west coast of Vancouver Island. Today, at 4 pm, we’re sharing a moment again in this most gorgeous of places – crazy in love, content in companionship, and ready for another year of the beautiful life we have together.