Friday, 10 January 2020

Book 3, Letter 17, part 2 of 2 To Seneca, on wisdom, and desire




Having only recently acquired the three books of your epistles, I am just now discovering the large collection of your other books that still exists in my day. I find in your Naturales Quaestiones a reference to your exile, and of life under Caligula.

    1. At the court of Gaius (Caligula) I used to see torture, I used to see fire. I knew that under him human existence had already deteriorated to the point where those who were killed were held up as examples of mercy.

I will have to read more of this book, for there is much to discuss. I bring it up here only by way of introducing an idea for discussion. I find your philosophy to be so peaceful, so beautiful and forgiving, yet you lived in a world of terror and madness in the Imperial court. Epictetus too, whose life was anything but easy, seems to float above it all with magnanimous nobility of spirit. You see, it is not just your writing that inspires, it is the nature of the life in which it was written that seems to give it greater weight. I find the same thing among some of Yamamoto Tsunetomo's writing, and of course, of Marcus Aurelius.

I found this in the introduction to Naturales Quaestiones, I need to share this section with you, from the Harry M Hine translation of 2010:

Seneca’s practice exemplifies his conviction that progress can best be made by critical dialogue with the thinkers of the past. He has a clear vision of meteorology as a collaborative effort by numerous investigators over many centuries, a process that will continue far into the future. Progress depends on the patient collection of information about the phenomena in question and on critical probing of the theories of one’s predecessors. He warns against dismissing the theories of the earliest thinkers as crude or silly, because they took the essential first steps, and later thinkers were building on their efforts (6.5.2–3). And just as their ideas seemed antiquated by Seneca’s day, so Seneca is sure that his ideas will seem just as antiquated to people far in the future (7.25.4–7; 7.30.5).12 Here is an implicit signal to us later readers to be as critical of his ideas as he is of the ideas of his predecessors.

I have been reading Plato, and have discovered a deep affection for the Socratic method. Starting from a position of assumed ignorance, and through questioning everything one might come to know something like the truth. It has been a major motivation behind my entire letter writing project to engage with the minds of the ancients and through a process of discussion and questioning, come to find the truth in my own life. It is not within the scope of my present life to attend university lectures and to surround myself with philosophers with whom I might have these discussions. I do what I can within the circle of friends and family that I have, and I find that I do not feel alone in my quest for wisdom.

Which brings me back around to the original topic of this letter.

There is a flexible contradiction to be found in your books which I enjoy. It is plain from your writing that you have devoted your life to reading many authors, studying everything you can and immersing yourself in a diverse range of contrasting philosophical schools. Yet here in letter II, in your epistles I find this:

The primary indication, to my thinking, of a well ordered mind is a man's ability to remain in one place and linger in his own company. Be careful, however, lest this reading of many authors and books of every sort may tend to make you discursive and unsteady. You must linger among a limited number of master thinkers, and digest their works if you would derive ideas which shall win firm hold in your mind. Everywhere means nowhere. When a person spends all his time in foreign travel, he ends by having many acquaintances, but no friends.

It is good advice, yet it seems that neither you nor I follow it truly. The stack of books on my bedside table at the present moment come from eleven different authors, across many eras. The bookshelf next to my bed contains all the books from Cicero that I own, plus Plutarch and Herodotus. They all seem like good friends to keep close, and regardless of which book sits atop the pile, having them near gives me the comfort of their wisdom.

Yet, Epictetus reminds me that there is another source of wisdom:
(Bk 1, Ch. 14, George Long translation, 1952)

When, then, you have shut the doors and made darkness within, remember never to say that you are alone, for you are not; but God is within, and your Demon is within, and what need have they of light to see what you are doing? To this God you ought to swear an oath just as the soldiers do to Caesar.

This nameless God, this nameless Demon that lives within us, and is the source of our wisdom and our torment, is perhaps the most important of all the master thinkers. Inside me is a circle of voices who vie for attention and who speak at times loudly, and at others in whispers like the wind. They have many names, and many faces. Perhaps you might enjoy reading my exploration of this room of mirrors...

A discussion for another day, my dear friend Seneca.

With Gratitude and Respect

Morgan.

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