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stormsewer) wrote2014-05-10 04:45 pm
stormsewer) wrote2014-05-10 04:45 pm
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meditations on Meditations
I recently read Marcus Aurelius's Meditations (the Long translation, though I've heard the Hays is good). I'd always admired the quotations I'd encountered from this, so I decided to give the whole thing a go. This is my book report.
While the entirety is not nearly as good as the "best parts" version would be, I'm glad I read it. I think it's most useful and interesting to read it while keeping in mind that he apparently wrote the entire thing as reminders to himself. The major themes are relatively easy to remember, since he repeats them over and over. I picked out four:
1. The first was better expressed by Shakespeare, actually: "There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so." Perhaps the most succinct way Aurelius put it was:
"If you are distressed by any external thing, it is not this thing which disturbs you, but your own judgment about it. And it is in your power to wipe out that judgment now."
While this is a valuable sentiment and something good to remember when you get upset (not to mention hard to argue with as an objective truth), I do think it has its limits. Certain emotions are essentially hard-coded into the human psyche, and insisting otherwise isn't going to make them go away. For instance, reciting such quotes upon the death of your only child isn't likely to make you feel any better, and in fact if that did actually assuage your grief there's likely something wrong with you.
But the point remains that contentment can be a choice:
"'Fortunate' means that a man has assigned to himself a good fortune, and a good fortune is good disposition of the soul, good emotions, good actions."
2. Another common theme is the inevitability of death and dissolution, and the unimportance of essentially everything a person desires in this life. Most poetically, he said:
"Many grains of frankincense on the same altar: one falls before, another falls after, but it makes no difference."
In terms of desire:
"Perhaps the desire of the thing called fame torments you. See how soon everything is forgotten, and look at the chaos of infinite time on each side of the present, and the emptiness of applause, and the fickleness and lack of judgment in those who pretend to give praise, and the narrowness of its domain, and be quiet at last."
It is particularly interesting to consider this from the perspective of Aurelius himself, who had no rival for power in all the world, except perhaps the Emperor of China. The amount of time he spends reminding himself "you are no big deal" is quite endearing. More objectively, I think the underlying goal in this theme is to demonstrate the futility of selfishness.
3. That leads into another favorite theme of Aurelius, relating to the question of what we should be striving for. In his words:
"Labor not as one who is wretched, nor yet as one who would be pitied or admired, but direct your will to one thing only: to act or not to act as social reason requires."
"Have I done something for the general interest? Well then I have had my reward."
This comes from the observation that humans are social animals:
"Men exist for the sake of one another. Teach them then or bear with them."
While I like this idea generally, he can take it a bit too far:
"Nothing harms him who is really a citizen, which does not harm the state, nor yet does anything harm the state, which does not harm law (order)."
"A happy citizen is one who continues a course of action that is advantageous to his fellow citizens and is content with whatever the state may assign him."
I think the history of communism in the 20th century demonstrates the pitfalls in this kind of thinking.
4. The fourth thing he likes to talk about is how what is natural is the only yardstick for what is good:
"Nothing is either good or bad that can happen equally to the bad man and the good. For that which happens equally to him who lives contrary to nature and to him who lives according to nature, is neither according to nature nor contrary to nature."
Therefore, the right way to live is according to nature:
"Observe what your nature requires, so far as you are governed by nature only: then do it and accept it, if your nature, so far as you are a living being, shall not be made worse by it."
Though I like this insofar as it reminds me of the Tao in the Tao Te Ching, it bothers me in this case because it is never defined, yet Aurelius seems to assume the reader should know what is meant by it. Socrates would never let him get away with that. (On a related note, the tendency to appeal to what is "good," "natural," or "right" without ever quite bothering to define the criteria for such things is a reason I tend to lean a bit more toward the Epicureans than the Stoics in the classical culture war.) As a scientist I think "nature" is a better yardstick for what is objectively true rather than what is good, but they are not the same thing. Goodness is a mental construct and seems to be of no particular concern to nature taken as a whole, while "nature" and "truth" are almost synonymous to the scientific mind.
He also has a tendency to take this idea even into "best of all possible worlds" territory:
"Did nature herself design to do evil to the things that are parts of herself, and to make them subject to evil and of necessity fall into evil, or have such results happened without her knowing it? Both of these suppositions, indeed, are incredible."
This kind of thing annoys me because the reasoning is circular (nature is perfectly "good" simply because it is defined as such, yet it is by no means obvious that it must be) and seems little more than a tortured attempt to convince oneself that everything is okay when it most clearly is not. I guess the foundational aspect of Aurelius's thinking that I find obnoxious is his staunch fatalism, which can be seen in all four of the themes discussed above.
The old saying, "grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and wisdom to know the difference" has become such a cliché that its meaning barely registers anymore, but there's probably no better definition of how to be happy and productive (assuming you've got your priorities straight). I think Aurelius puts a little too much of human experience into the first category, which can lead to doing nothing in the face of atrocities going on right under your nose, atrocities you could put a stop to (an example in Aurelius's case might be the brutal persecution of Christians during his reign).
Fatalism and a focus on internal purity rather than productive action are a natural response of the powerless, but it seems odd that a Roman Emperor would take such an approach. I think perhaps we can understand and even respect Aurelius more by considering the historical context. Specifically, starting with Julius Caesar, Rome was ruled by a series of egomaniacal dictators intent on remaking the world according to their own vision for it.1 Depending on who you happened to draw as the next emperor, that might not be such a bad thing, but in many cases it certainly was, and eventually the whole shebang couldn't help but fall apart. Though there were of course many reasons for the fall of Rome, I personally believe that a major factor putting the decline in motion was the end of republican government by Julius Caesar. The fatalism of Marcus Aurelius can be seen as an attempt to maintain the humility necessary to avoid the very real dangers of egotistical leadership. I respect him for having the strength to go against the grain in that way, and if I had to submit to an emperor, I'd much prefer him to Julius Caesar.
And all in all I very much liked Meditations. Even the continual repetition of the same ideas in slightly different words was nice in its way for getting a clear picture of what he was trying to say. I read it while trying to finish up my PhD under a heinous deadline, and when I felt myself starting to freak out, I could start reading wherever I last left off in Meditations and soon find myself calm and resolved again.
So thank you, dear Stoic, for teaching us to work diligently and selflessly, and to not let the bastards get us down. I think I shall have to delve a bit more deeply into Stoic and Epicurean philosophy; thus far I've only really scratched the surface, but I like what I've found there.
In closing, here are a few other quotes from Meditations that I enjoyed:
"The art of life is more like the wrestler's art than the dancer's, in respect of this: that it should stand ready and firm to meet onsets that are sudden and unexpected."
"It is very possible to be a divine man and to be recognized as such by no one."
"Attend to the matter before you, whether it is an opinion or an act or a word. You suffer this justly: for you choose rather to become good tomorrow rather than be good today."
"All this is foul smell and blood in a bag."
"Set yourself in motion, if it is in your power, and do not look about you to see if anyone will observe it, nor yet expect Plato's Republic, but be content if the smallest thing goes on well, and consider such an event to be no small matter."
"The work of philosophy is simple and modest. Do not draw me aside into pomposity."
"With respect to what may happen to you from without, consider that it happens either by chance or according to Providence, and you must neither blame chance nor accuse Providence."
"Only to the rational animal is it given to follow voluntarily what happens, but simply to follow is a necessity imposed on all."
"He who yields to pain and he who yields to anger are both wounded and both submit."
"Pass then through this little space of time conformably to nature, and end your journey in content, just as an olive falls off when it is ripe, blessing nature who produced it and thanking the tree on which it grew."
"No longer talk at all about the kind of man that a good man ought to be, but be such."
1 A prime example of an egomaniac, actually, was Aurelius's own son and successor, Commodus, who seems to have set out to do the exact opposite of everything his father did. One particularly poignant line from Meditations in that respect is "There is no man so fortunate that there shall not be by him when he is dying some who are pleased with what is going to happen."
While the entirety is not nearly as good as the "best parts" version would be, I'm glad I read it. I think it's most useful and interesting to read it while keeping in mind that he apparently wrote the entire thing as reminders to himself. The major themes are relatively easy to remember, since he repeats them over and over. I picked out four:
1. The first was better expressed by Shakespeare, actually: "There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so." Perhaps the most succinct way Aurelius put it was:
"If you are distressed by any external thing, it is not this thing which disturbs you, but your own judgment about it. And it is in your power to wipe out that judgment now."
While this is a valuable sentiment and something good to remember when you get upset (not to mention hard to argue with as an objective truth), I do think it has its limits. Certain emotions are essentially hard-coded into the human psyche, and insisting otherwise isn't going to make them go away. For instance, reciting such quotes upon the death of your only child isn't likely to make you feel any better, and in fact if that did actually assuage your grief there's likely something wrong with you.
But the point remains that contentment can be a choice:
"'Fortunate' means that a man has assigned to himself a good fortune, and a good fortune is good disposition of the soul, good emotions, good actions."
2. Another common theme is the inevitability of death and dissolution, and the unimportance of essentially everything a person desires in this life. Most poetically, he said:
"Many grains of frankincense on the same altar: one falls before, another falls after, but it makes no difference."
In terms of desire:
"Perhaps the desire of the thing called fame torments you. See how soon everything is forgotten, and look at the chaos of infinite time on each side of the present, and the emptiness of applause, and the fickleness and lack of judgment in those who pretend to give praise, and the narrowness of its domain, and be quiet at last."
It is particularly interesting to consider this from the perspective of Aurelius himself, who had no rival for power in all the world, except perhaps the Emperor of China. The amount of time he spends reminding himself "you are no big deal" is quite endearing. More objectively, I think the underlying goal in this theme is to demonstrate the futility of selfishness.
3. That leads into another favorite theme of Aurelius, relating to the question of what we should be striving for. In his words:
"Labor not as one who is wretched, nor yet as one who would be pitied or admired, but direct your will to one thing only: to act or not to act as social reason requires."
"Have I done something for the general interest? Well then I have had my reward."
This comes from the observation that humans are social animals:
"Men exist for the sake of one another. Teach them then or bear with them."
While I like this idea generally, he can take it a bit too far:
"Nothing harms him who is really a citizen, which does not harm the state, nor yet does anything harm the state, which does not harm law (order)."
"A happy citizen is one who continues a course of action that is advantageous to his fellow citizens and is content with whatever the state may assign him."
I think the history of communism in the 20th century demonstrates the pitfalls in this kind of thinking.
4. The fourth thing he likes to talk about is how what is natural is the only yardstick for what is good:
"Nothing is either good or bad that can happen equally to the bad man and the good. For that which happens equally to him who lives contrary to nature and to him who lives according to nature, is neither according to nature nor contrary to nature."
Therefore, the right way to live is according to nature:
"Observe what your nature requires, so far as you are governed by nature only: then do it and accept it, if your nature, so far as you are a living being, shall not be made worse by it."
Though I like this insofar as it reminds me of the Tao in the Tao Te Ching, it bothers me in this case because it is never defined, yet Aurelius seems to assume the reader should know what is meant by it. Socrates would never let him get away with that. (On a related note, the tendency to appeal to what is "good," "natural," or "right" without ever quite bothering to define the criteria for such things is a reason I tend to lean a bit more toward the Epicureans than the Stoics in the classical culture war.) As a scientist I think "nature" is a better yardstick for what is objectively true rather than what is good, but they are not the same thing. Goodness is a mental construct and seems to be of no particular concern to nature taken as a whole, while "nature" and "truth" are almost synonymous to the scientific mind.
He also has a tendency to take this idea even into "best of all possible worlds" territory:
"Did nature herself design to do evil to the things that are parts of herself, and to make them subject to evil and of necessity fall into evil, or have such results happened without her knowing it? Both of these suppositions, indeed, are incredible."
This kind of thing annoys me because the reasoning is circular (nature is perfectly "good" simply because it is defined as such, yet it is by no means obvious that it must be) and seems little more than a tortured attempt to convince oneself that everything is okay when it most clearly is not. I guess the foundational aspect of Aurelius's thinking that I find obnoxious is his staunch fatalism, which can be seen in all four of the themes discussed above.
The old saying, "grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and wisdom to know the difference" has become such a cliché that its meaning barely registers anymore, but there's probably no better definition of how to be happy and productive (assuming you've got your priorities straight). I think Aurelius puts a little too much of human experience into the first category, which can lead to doing nothing in the face of atrocities going on right under your nose, atrocities you could put a stop to (an example in Aurelius's case might be the brutal persecution of Christians during his reign).
Fatalism and a focus on internal purity rather than productive action are a natural response of the powerless, but it seems odd that a Roman Emperor would take such an approach. I think perhaps we can understand and even respect Aurelius more by considering the historical context. Specifically, starting with Julius Caesar, Rome was ruled by a series of egomaniacal dictators intent on remaking the world according to their own vision for it.1 Depending on who you happened to draw as the next emperor, that might not be such a bad thing, but in many cases it certainly was, and eventually the whole shebang couldn't help but fall apart. Though there were of course many reasons for the fall of Rome, I personally believe that a major factor putting the decline in motion was the end of republican government by Julius Caesar. The fatalism of Marcus Aurelius can be seen as an attempt to maintain the humility necessary to avoid the very real dangers of egotistical leadership. I respect him for having the strength to go against the grain in that way, and if I had to submit to an emperor, I'd much prefer him to Julius Caesar.
And all in all I very much liked Meditations. Even the continual repetition of the same ideas in slightly different words was nice in its way for getting a clear picture of what he was trying to say. I read it while trying to finish up my PhD under a heinous deadline, and when I felt myself starting to freak out, I could start reading wherever I last left off in Meditations and soon find myself calm and resolved again.
So thank you, dear Stoic, for teaching us to work diligently and selflessly, and to not let the bastards get us down. I think I shall have to delve a bit more deeply into Stoic and Epicurean philosophy; thus far I've only really scratched the surface, but I like what I've found there.
In closing, here are a few other quotes from Meditations that I enjoyed:
"The art of life is more like the wrestler's art than the dancer's, in respect of this: that it should stand ready and firm to meet onsets that are sudden and unexpected."
"It is very possible to be a divine man and to be recognized as such by no one."
"Attend to the matter before you, whether it is an opinion or an act or a word. You suffer this justly: for you choose rather to become good tomorrow rather than be good today."
"All this is foul smell and blood in a bag."
"Set yourself in motion, if it is in your power, and do not look about you to see if anyone will observe it, nor yet expect Plato's Republic, but be content if the smallest thing goes on well, and consider such an event to be no small matter."
"The work of philosophy is simple and modest. Do not draw me aside into pomposity."
"With respect to what may happen to you from without, consider that it happens either by chance or according to Providence, and you must neither blame chance nor accuse Providence."
"Only to the rational animal is it given to follow voluntarily what happens, but simply to follow is a necessity imposed on all."
"He who yields to pain and he who yields to anger are both wounded and both submit."
"Pass then through this little space of time conformably to nature, and end your journey in content, just as an olive falls off when it is ripe, blessing nature who produced it and thanking the tree on which it grew."
"No longer talk at all about the kind of man that a good man ought to be, but be such."
1 A prime example of an egomaniac, actually, was Aurelius's own son and successor, Commodus, who seems to have set out to do the exact opposite of everything his father did. One particularly poignant line from Meditations in that respect is "There is no man so fortunate that there shall not be by him when he is dying some who are pleased with what is going to happen."
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