Posts by Joshua

Horace's first collection of Odes was published around 4 years into the reign of Augustus. The political climate may inform our reading of No. 34, translated here by Christopher Smart (1722-1771):

ODE XXXIV.

AGAINST THE EPICURIANS.

A remiss and irregular worshiper of the gods, while I professed the errors of a senseless philosophy, I am now obliged to set sail back again, and to renew the course that I had deserted. For Jupiter, who usually cleaves the clouds with his gleaming lightning, lately drove his thundering horses and rapid chariot through the clear serene; which the sluggish earth, and wandering rivers; at which Styx, and the horrid seat of detested Tænarus, and the utmost boundary of Atlas were shaken. The Deity is able to make exchange between the highest and the lowest, and diminishes the exalted, bringing to light the obscure; rapacious fortune, with a shrill whizzing, has borne off the plume from one head, and delights in having placed it on another.

_________________________

In Latin:

XXXIV

Parcus deorum cultor et infrequens,

insanientis dum sapientiae

consultus erro, nunc retrorsum

vela dare atque iterare cursus

cogor relictos: namque Diespiter 5

igni corusco nubila dividens

plerumque, per purum tonantis

egit equos volucremque currum,

quo bruta tellus et vaga flumina,

quo Styx et invisi horrida Taenari 10

sedes Atlanteusque finis

concutitur. Valet ima summis

mutare et insignem attenuat deus,

obscura promens; hinc apicem rapax

Fortuna cum stridore acuto

sustulit, hic posuisse gaudet.

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Smart's title for the Ode does not appear in the Latin text—whether it was his own invention, or the legacy of a long tradition, I do not know. By any road, Horace does seem to be addressing the philosophy of Epicurus, particularly as it relates to Fortuna, providence and the gods. I have the Loeb edition at home, which I shall consult this evening.

In the mean time, I'll be looking for clues in the text that might indicate a political motivation. Horace was on the 'wrong side' in the Civil War, as you may remember, and though he was granted amnesty he paid dearly for it. His father's estate near Venusia was claimed by the regime for the resettlement of veterans.

I have two major questions at this time;

Did Horace abandon Epicurean philosophy to satisfy Augustus, and his claim of Divine Right?

Is his reference to Fortuna, and the mighty being laid low, a subtle hint of satire suggesting that a like fate could await the new regime?

Going from memory, I would add to Elayne's list;

Over-emphasis on Sensations as a criterion of knowledge

Or at least I remember walking away from it with that feeling. Her system is nearly empirical, grounded in sensation and elaborated with reason. But Epicurus held that there are three criteria. The other two seem to get short shrift here.

A few years ago Elon Musk made headlines by using his platform to mainstream the proposition that we actually live in an elaborate matrix-like computer simulation. The argument is fairly straightforward—if there's only one prime 'reality', and, further, if we assume that it's possible to simulate other pseudo-realities an infinite number of times within that reality, then the probability is that we live in one of the infinite simulations rather than the one non-simulation.

The argument that Cassius mentions above from Lucretius seems to apply equally here; if it were true that we existed in a simulation, then our knowledge could have no foundation. It's just a simulation experiencing itself as a simulation. And if our knowledge had no foundation, there would be nothing to justify the initial two premises of Musk's argument, rendering it self-defeating.

One does have to start somewhere. Epicurus starts with the senses. It's true that we have to accept that the information relayed by the senses is valid dogmatically. To start with the material, as reported by the senses, is to start with the obvious.

That answer might not be very satisfying, but unless you start somewhere, you don't get anywhere.

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To refute the solipsist or the metaphysical idealist all that you have to do is take him out and throw a rock at his head: if he ducks he’s a liar. His logic may be airtight but his argument, far from revealing the delusions of living experience, only exposes the limitations of logic.

—Edward Abbey

I'm workshopping an idea for a new poem—a monologue written from the perspective of an Epicurean, fleeing Alexandria after the murder of Hypatia—and a thought experiment occurred to me.

If you were in this unknown person's shoes, in the first half of the fifth century, flying for your life from a murderous and destructive Christian mob—where would you go?

To Rome, where a line of emperors have committed themselves to the destruction of paganism?

South into the Egyptian interior, at the outer rim of the Empire's power?

To Greece, under the control of other Bishops as rotten as Cyril (the 'Great'!)?

To the country estate of a sympathetic friend in Italy, to run down the years wearing your cameo ring in a private library and 'under-the-sleeve', as it were?

As for the poem, it will be more effective to leave the destination uncertain. But the question has been chewing at me.

Welcome, GeorgeS! We highly value an international presence on the forum; it would be great to hear your story. Entebbe is farther south and east than I've ever been.

Joshua

It may be difficult to get at the root of this one. I believe I have a firm enough grasp of spoken English, but even I don't know what the phrase 'head over heels' is supposed to mean. I might be doing it wrong, but for me that's the posture of common use. 🤔 'Ass over tincups' (or sometimes 'teakettle') is even less descriptive, but does have the virtue of being more emotive.

Vestigia seems to be a critical word here, since it does not literally mean 'foot' (Latin pes), but footprint or, by metonymy, 'sole of the foot'.

Upon searching Google for the line itself, I find that it is the subject of some etymological debate, as well as the title of a paper on Lucretius.

Re: photos—I still have trouble embedding photos from Imgur when I'm using my cellphone. But that's mostly an Imgur problem. Much easier on the laptop!

Re: emotions—I like the distinction that Don is drawing between feelings/emotions and 'reactions'. But in a weird way, I can answer one of Susan's questions with a bit of a story. One of the most emotional people I've ever known seemed very happy.

He was a professor of Creative Writing and English Literature, as well as a musician, a poet, and a sort of hobby farmer. He was candid to a degree that was something formidable, bordering on gruff, and though clean-shaven, he looked as weathered as an old post. He had no time for bad writing; once when I was less wise but thought myself clever, I responded to a disagreeable essay assignment by writing it in Heroic Couplets—the most overwrought of verses. It was a cheap shot, which of course he saw right through. I received it back with copious notes, and a rubber-stamped, red ink heading at the top with these words: "Are you sure you want to turn this in?" I wondered how long it had been since he'd trotted that gem out. It didn't matter that I was among the best writers in my year. It was a bad essay, and we both knew it.

And yet, here's the thing; good writing was his claimed share of the food of the gods. It was what he seemed to live for, and when he found it, his haggard exterior quickened to a window into his soul. When I read Lucretius, where he writes that the shape of ever-flourishing Homer arose and wept salt tears, I see him still—intoning a few tender lines of poetry with a voice like a bassoon, as he clears his eyes by drying them.

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He will be more deeply moved by feelings than others, but this will not prove to be an obstacle to wisdom. Epicurus

Wormwood is also one of the three traditional herbs, along with fennel and anise, that go into the production of absinthe. This liquor has developed a strong connection with art, poetry and the bohemian lifestyle. There is a further connection with Satan in Christianity—one legend has it that wormwood sprung up in the trail left by the serpent after he slithered out of the Garden of Eden. Satan leaves a bitter trail, and all that. And there was also a demon by this name, whom C.S. Lewis draws on extensively in The Screwtape Letters.

Here's an interesting thought; what do we actually know about this guy?

Judging from Mr. Jefferson's letter in reply, we may infer that William Short, like Jefferson, positively identified himself as an Epicurean. Cassius' recent reading of Frances Wright's other work has me thinking that there might be gems hidden here as well.

He was a talented, capable, brilliant protégé of Thomas Jefferson, and a deft hand at diplomacy. He forsook the dream of a high and polished political career in his pursuit of the love of a French Noblewoman. Despite his career disappointments, he was an accomplished businessman, and retired wealthy while Jefferson himself slipped into debt and penury at the end of his life. He was George Washington's first appointment to office. He loved the new American project, but preferred living in Europe.

Some of his correspondence with the married French Duchess survive. I haven't yet found the texts online, but they might be worth perusing.

Here's an interesting anecdote; one day while canoeing on the Seine with Rosalie (whose much older husband in a marriage of convenience evidently didn't object to their affair), William noticed a boy on the verge of drowning. He dove into the waves to save the boy, and nearly lost consciousness in the rescue. When the party returned to the Nobleman's Chateau, he was treated to a banquet and lauded as a hero. It's probably a coincidence, but the story bears remarkable similarities to Theon's rescue of Hedeia in A Few Days in Athens. (This happened in 1790; Wright published in 1822).

Sadly, my experience arguing with a flat-earther in the family—and bear in mind, I work in land-surveying—tells me that this project is likely to involve a lot of fruitless irritation.

But probably people are referring to the Loeb edition, which ought to be the gold standard. I'm probably guilty of misnaming it myself.

That's an excellent question, Susan! He is a translator in his own right, as well as the most recent editor of Rouse's translation.

Here is his translation available on Amazon;

https://www.amazon.com/Nature-Things-Lucretius/dp/0872205878

It was published in 1969, and Professor Smith is still alive. So the text is not in the public domain—unless he's made arrangements that I wouldn't know about.

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I found it interesting to look up the Latin for exactly what is being condemned, variously translated as Superstition, or Religion. It is actually "religio" which Martin Furguson Smith annotates as:

"false religion," not "religion,"... The Epicureans were opposed not to religion, but to the traditional religion which taught that the gods govern the world."

I believe that's from the Loeb edition?

I think there is strong tendency to put the cart before the horse with that word. Whether religio should be translated as religion or superstition is of secondary concern. What Lucretius meant for us, his readers, to actually understand by religio, he laid out for us in the surrounding lines and with the story of Iphigenia.

Religio is believing that:

-Humans are hemmed in, above and below,

-In a specially created world

-By supernatural, intervening gods,

-(And their oracles and priests),

-Whose natures are threatening and capricious, and

-Whose ultimate power is to torment us beyond the grave.

To follow Epicurus is to believe that:

-We are free agents,

-In one natural world among innumerable worlds

-(Where the gods, if they exist, do not create or intervene),

-who ignore the priests, choosing instead the philosopher

-whose foundation is material nature and whose end is pleasure,

-and for whom death is nothing.

I probably could have made that a little smoother, but I was aiming for symmetry.

Really great replies. Susan, I found your bagpipe story particularly interesting!

That is a really interesting angle, Don!

I particularly enjoyed this passage from the above article;

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When people judge video games to be a waste of time, what most people probably mean is that there are better, more useful ways to spend one's time. However, this is a value judgment. To me, knitting would be a waste of time. If I really want a quilt, I can always buy one on Amazon. But for all the people who love to knit, more power to you!

And the more immediate reason for me posting this thread was this article.

For an Epicurean, the question must obviously involve individual hedonic calculus. But I'm curious to know how others handle it. Do you structure your leisure time? Does binge-watching a television show, for example, leave you feeling guilty?

What does your ideal day look like? Your ideal retirement?

The Vatican Sayings are relevant here. Cyril Bailey;

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10

Remember that you are mortal and have a limited time to live and have devoted yourself to discussions on Nature for all time and eternity and have seen “things that are now and are to come and have been.”

11

For most men rest is stagnation and activity is madness.

14

We are born once and cannot be born twice, but for all time must be no more. But you, who are not master of tomorrow, postpone your happiness. Life is wasted in procrastination and each one of us dies without allowing himself leisure.

78

The noble soul occupies itself with wisdom and friendship; of these the one is a mortal good, the other immortal.

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I ask this question because it comes up quite a lot in places like reddit, where 'Getting Your Life Together' is a constant refrain.

The general implication is that by spending time more wisely or more productively, we'll be happier, healthier, richer, fitter, more attractive, better respected—all of those great traits that humans yearn for. (Most marketing, of course, is geared for the desire for those same traits).

I myself have this same nagging feeling sometimes; if not for video games, I could have really learned Latin or Greek, mastered an instrument, improved my drawing, made tons more friends, explored the natural world, written a book, read hundreds more books, gone to the gym everyday—and on it goes. The pleasure of something I enjoy, soured by the anxiety of leisure.

Those are good focusing questions, Cassius. I wanted to explore the question of whether video games in broad terms are a 'waste of time'. Let us assume that this means they are unconstructive—designed not for education, or for research, or anything like that, but for mere enjoyment. I actually left the thread title vague because I think that a lot of things fall into this category—television, popular fiction, pornography, watching sports, etc.

So let's put it like this;

Setting aside the moral aspects of the question, should an Epicurean spend large quantities of time in relatively passive content-consumption?