Copyright 2000 by Alain de Botton All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions.

. Pubhshed in the United tates by Pantheon Boo!s" a division o# $andom %ouse" Inc." &e' (or!" and in Canada by $andom %ouse o# Canada )imited" *oronto. +riginally published in ,reat Britain by %amish %amilton" a division o# Penguin Boo!s )td." )ondon. Pantheon Boo!s and colophon are registered trademar!s o# $andom %ouse" Inc. Permissions ac!no'ledgments appear on pages 2-./-0. )ibrary o# Congress Cataloging-in- Publication 1ata 1e Botton" Alain. *he consolations o# philosophy 2 Alain de Botton. p. cm. I B& 0-.34-5523.-. i. Philosophical counseling. I. *itle. B6I-4-.-.057 2000 loi/dc2i 44-0-2800 '''.pantheonboo!s.com Printed in the United tates o# America 9irst American :dition 25.043-78 Consolation for I Unpopularity 1 II Not Having Enough Money III Frustration 73 IV Inade ua!y 113 V " #ro$en Heart 1%& VI 'iffi!ulties ()3 43

A #e' years ago" during a bitter &e' (or! 'inter" 'ith an a#ternoon to spare be#ore catching a #light to )ondon" I #ound mysel# in a deserted gallery on the upper level o# the ;etropolitan ;useum o# Art. ! 'as brightly lit" and aside #rom the soothing hum o# an under-#loor heating system" entirely silent. %aving reached a sur#eit o# paintings in the Impressionist galleries" I 'as loo!ing #or a sign #or the ca#eteria - 'here I hoped to buy a glass o# a certain variety o# American chocolate mil! o# 'hich I 'as at that time e<tremely #ond - 'hen my eye 'as caught by a canvas 'hich a

caption e<plained had been painted in Paris in the autumn o# 830. by the thirty-eight-year-old 6ac=ues-)ouis 1avid. ocrates" condemned to death by the citi>ens o# Athens" prepares to drin! a cup o# hemloc!" surrounded by 'oebegone #riends. In the spring o# 744 :C" three Athenian citi>ens had brought legal proceedings against the philosopher. *hey had accused him o# #ailing to 'orship the city?s gods" o# introducing religious novelties and o# corrupting the young men o# Athens - and such 'as the severity o# their charges" they had called #or the death penalty. ocrates had responded 'ith legendary e=uanimity. *hough a##orded an opportunity to renounce his philosophy in court" he had sided 'ith 'hat he believed to be true rather than 'hat he !ne' 'ould be popular. In Plato?s account he had de#iantly told the @uryA So long as I have breath and have my faculties, I shall never stop practising philosophy and exhorting you and elucidating the truth for everyone that I meet . . . And so gentlemen . . . whether you acquit me or nor, you know that I am not going to alter my conduct, not even if I have to die a hundred deaths. And so he had been led to meet his end in an Athenian @ail" his death mar!ing a de#ining moment in the history o# philosophy. An indication o# its signi#icance may be the #re=uency 'ith 'hich it has been painted. In 8.-0 the 9rench painter Charles-Alphonse 1u#resnoy produced a 1eath o# ocrates" no' hanging in the ,alleria Palarina in 9lorence B'hich has no ca#eteriaC. 6ac=ues-)ouis 1avid received his commision in the spring o# 830. #rom Charles-;ichei *rudaine de la abliere" a 'ealthy member o# the Parlement and a gi#ted ,ree! scholar. *he terms 'ere generous" ."000 livres up#ront" 'ith a #urther 7"000 on delivery B)ouis <vi had paid only ."000 livres #or the larger +ath o# the %oratiiC. Dhen the picture 'as e<hibited at the alon o# 8303" it 'as at once @udged the #inest o# the ocratic ends. ir 6oshua $eynolds thought it ?the most e<=uisite and admirable e##ort o# art E'hich has appeared since the Capella Sistina" and the Stan e of !aphael. *he picture 'ould have done honour to Athens in the age o# Pericles.? I bought #ive postcard 1avids in the museum gi#t-shop and later" #lying over the ice #ields o# &e'#oundland Bturned a luminous green by a #ull moon and a cloudless s!yC" e<amined one 'hile pic!ing at a pale evening meal le#t on rhe table in #ront o# me by a

ste'ardess during a mis@udged snoo>e. Plato sits at the #oot o# the bed" a pen and a scroll beside him" silent 'itness to the in@ustice o# the state. %e had been t'enty-nine at the time o# ocrates? death" but 1avid turned him into an old man" grey-haired and grave. *hrough the passage'ay" ocrates? 'i#e" Fanthippe" is escorted #rom the prison cell by 'arders- even #riends are in various stages o# lamentation. ocrates? closest companion Crito" seated beside him" ga>es at the master 'ith devotion and concern. But the philosopher" bolt upright" 'ith an athlete?s torso and biceps" sho's neither apprehension nor regret. *hat a large number o# Athenians have denounced him as #oolish has not sha!en him in his convictions. 1avid had planned to paint ocrates in the act o# s'allo'ing poison" but the poet Andre Chenier suggested that there 'ould be greater dramatic tension i# he 'as sho'n #inishing a philosophical point 'hile at the same time reaching serenely #or the hemloc! that 'ould end his li#e" symboli>ing both obedience to the la's o# Athens and allegiance to his calling. De are 'itnessing the last edi#ying moments o# a transcendent being. I# the postcard struc! me so #orce#ully" it 'as perhaps because the behaviour it depicted contrasted so sharply 'ith my o'n. In conversations" my priority 'as to be li!ed" rather than to spea! the truth. A desire to please led me to laugh at modest @o!es li!e a parent on the opening night o# a school play. Dith strangers" I adopted the servile manner o# a concierge greeting 'ealthy clients in a hotel - salival enthusiasm born o# a morbid" indiscriminate desire #or a##ection. I did not publicly doubt ideas to 'hich the ma@ority 'as committed. I sought the approval o# #igures o# authority and a#ter encounters 'ith them" 'orried at length 'hether they had thought me acceptable. Dhen passing through customs or driving alongside police cars" I harboured a con#used 'ish #or the uni#ormed o##icials to thin! 'ell o# me. But the philosopher had not buc!led be#ore unpopularity and the condemnation o# the state. %e had not retracted his thoughts because others had complained. ;oreover" his con#idence had sprung #rom a more pro#ound source than hot-headedness or bullli!e courage. It had been grounded in philosophy. Philosophy had supplied ocrates 'ith convictions in 'hich he had been able to have rational" as opposed to hysterical" con#idence 'hen #aced 'ith disapproval. *hat night" above the ice lands" such independence o# mind 'as a revelation and an incitement. It promised a counter'eight to a

supreme tendency to #ollo' socially sanctioned practices and ideas. In ocrates? li#e and death lay an invitation to intelligent scepticism. And more generally" the sub@ect o# 'hich the ,ree! philosopher 'as the supreme symbol seemed to o##er an invitation to ta!e on a tas! at once pro#ound and laughableA to become 'ise through philosophy. In spite o# the vast di##erences bet'een the many thin!ers described as philosophers across time Bpeople in actuality so diverse that had they been gathered together at a gianr coc!tail Party" they 'ould not only have had nothing to say to one another" but 'ould most probably have come to blo's a#ter a #e' drin!sC it seemed possible to discern a small group o# men" separated by centuries" sharing a loose allegiance to a vision o# philosophy suggested by the ,ree! etymology o# the 'ord -philo" loveG sophia 'isdom - a group bound by a common interest in saying a #e' consoling and practical things about the causes o# our greatest grie#s. It 'as to these men I 'ould turn.

2 :very society has notions o# 'hat one should believe and ho' one should behave in order to avoid suspicion and unpopularity. ome o# these societal conventions are given e<plicit #ormulation in a legal code" others are more intuitively held in a vast body o# ethical and practical @udgements described as ?common sense?" 'hich dictates 'hat 'e should 'ear" 'hich #inancial values 'e should adopt" 'hom 'e should esteem" 'hich eti=uette 'e should #ollo' and 'hat domestic li#e 'e should lead. *o start =uestioning these conventions 'ould seem bi>arre" even aggressive. I# common sense is cordoned o## #rom =uestions" it is because its @udgements are deemed plainly too sensible to be the targets o# scrutiny" It 'ould scarcely be acceptable" #or e<ample" to as! in the course o# an ordinary converstion 'hat our society holds to be the purpose o# 'or!. +r to as! a recently married couple to e<plain in #ull the reasons behind their decision.

+r to =uestion holiday-ma!ers in detail about the assumptions behind their trip.

Ancient ,ree!s had as many common-sense conventions and 'ould have held on to them as tenaciously. +ne 'ee!end" 'hile bro'sing in a second-hand boo!shop in Bloomsbury" I came upon a series o# history boo!s originally intended #or children" containing a host o# photographs and handsome illustrations. *he series included See Inside an "gyptian #own, See Inside a Castle and a volume I ac=uired along 'ith an encyclopedia o# poisonous plants" See Inside an Ancient $reek #own. *here 'as in#ormation on ho' it had been considered normal to dress in the city states o# ,reece 888 the #i#th century BC. *he boo! e<plained that the ,ree!s had believed in many gods" gods o# love" hunting and 'ar" gods 'ith po'er over the harvest" #ire and sea. Be#ore embar!ing on any venture they had prayed to them either in a temple or in a small shrine at home" and sacri#iced animals in their honour. It had been e<pensiveA Athena cost a co'G Artemis and Aphrodite a goatG Asclepius a hen or coc!. *he ,ree!s had #elt sanguine about o'ning slaves. In the #i#th century BC" in Athens alone" there 'ere" at any one time" 00-800"000 slaves" one slave to every three o# the #ree population. *he ,ree!s had been highly militaristic" too" 'orshipping courage on the battle#ield. *o be considered an ade=uate male" one had to !no' ho' to scythe the heads o## adversaries. *he Athenian soldier ending the career o# a Persian Bpainted on a plate at the time o# the econd Persian DarC indicated the appropriate behaviour. Domen had been entirely under the thumb o# their husbands and #athers. *hey had ta!en no part in politics or public li#e" and had been unable either to inherit property or to o'n money. *hey had normally married at thirteen" their husbands chosen #or them by their #athers irrespective o# emotional compatibility. &one o# 'hich 'ould have seemed remar!able to the contemporaries o# ocrates. *hey 'ould have been con#ounded and angered i# I as!ed e<actly 'hy they sacri#iced coc!s to Asclepius or 'hy I needed to !ill to be virtuous. It 'ould have appeared as i# I 'ondering 'hy spring #ollo'ed 'inter or 'hy ice 'as

cold. But it is not only the hostility o# others that may prevent us #rom =uestioning the status =uo. +ur 'ill to doubt can be @ust as po'er#ully sapped by an internal sense that societal conventions must have a sound basis" even i# 'e are not sure e<actly 'hat this may be" because they have been adhered to by a great many people #or a long time. It seems implausible that our society could be gravely mista!en in its belie#s and at the same time that 'e 'ould be alone in noticing the #act. De sti#le our doubts and #ollo' the #loc! because 'e cannot conceive o# ourselves as pioneers o# hitherto un!no'n" di##icult truths. It is #or help in overcoming our mee!ness that 'e may turn to the philosopher.

7 8. *he li#e %e 'as born in Athens in 5.4 BC" his #ather ophroniscus 'as believed to have been a sculptor" his mother Phaenarete a mid'i#e. In his youth" ocrates 'as a pupil o# the philosopher Archelaus" and therea#ter practised philosophy 'ithout ever 'riting any o# ir do'n. %e did not charge #or his lessons and so slid into povertyG though he had little concern #or material possessions. %e 'ore the same cloa! throughout the year and almost al'ays 'al!ed bare#oot Bit 'as said he had been born to spite shoema!ersC. By the rime o# his death he 'as married and the #ather o# three sons. %is 'i#e" Fanthippe" 'as o# notoriously #oul temper B'hen as!ed 'hy he had married her" he replied that horse-trainers needed to practise on the most spirited animalsC. %e spent much time out o# the house" conversing 'ith #riends in the public places o# Athens. *hey appreciated his 'isdom and sense o# humour. 9e' can have appreciated his loo!s. %e 'as short" bearded and bald" 'ith a curious rolling gait" and a #ace variously li!ened by ac=uaintances to the head o# a crab" a satyr or a grotes=ue. %is nose 'as #lat" his lips large"

and his prominent s'ollen eyes sat beneath a pair o# unruly bro's. But his most curious #eature 'as a habit o# approaching Athenians o# every class" age and occupation and bluntly as!ing them" 'ithout 'orrying 'hether they 'ould thin! him eccentric or in#uriating" to e<plain 'ith precision 'hy they held certain commonsense belie#s and 'hat they too! to be the meaning o# li#e - as one surprised general reportedA %henever anyone comes face to face with Socrates and has a conversation with him, what invariably happens is that, although he may have started on a completely different sub&ect first, Socrates will keep heading him off as they're talking until he has him trapped into giving an account of his present life(style and the way he has spent his life in the past. And once he has him trapped, Socrates won't let him go before he has well and truly cross(examined him from every angle. %e 'as helped in his habit by climate and urban planning. Athens 'as 'arm #or hal# the year" 'hich increased opportunities #or conversing 'ithout #ormal introduction 'ith people outdoors. Activities 'hich in northern lands un#olded behind the mud 'alls o# sombre" smo!e-#illed huts needed no shelter #rom the benevolent Attic s!ies. It 'as common to linger in the agora" under the colonnades o# the Painted toa or the roa o# Heus :leutherios" and tal! to strangers in the late a#ternoon" the privileged hours bet'een the practicalities o# high noon and the an<ieties o# night. *he si>e o# the city ensured conviviality. Around 250"000 people lived 'ithin Athens and its port. &o more than an hour 'as needed to 'al! #rom one end o# the city to the other" #rom Piraeus to Aigeus gate. Inhabitants could #eel connected li!e pupils at a school or guests at a 'edding. It 'asn?t only lunatics and drun!ards 'ho began conversations 'ith strangers in public. I# 'e re#rain #rom =uestioning the status =uo" it is - aside #rom the 'eather and the si>e o# our cities - primarily because 'e associate 'hat is popular 'ith 'hat is right. *he sandalless philosopher raised a plethora o# =uestions to determine 'hether 'hat 'as popular happened to ma!e any sense.

2. *he rule o# common sense ;any #ound the =uestions maddening. ome teased him. A #e' 'ould !ill him. In #he Clouds" per#ormed #or the #irst time at the theatre o# 1ionysus in the spring o# 527 BC" Aristophanes o##ered Athenians a caricature o# the philosopher in their midst 'ho re#used to accept common sense 'ithout investigating its logic at impudent length. *he actor playing ocrates appeared on stage in a bas!et suspended #rom a crane" #or he claimed his mind 'or!ed better at high altitude. %e 'as immersed in such important thoughts that he had no time to 'ash or to per#orm household tas!s" his cloa! 'as there#ore malodorous and his home in#ested 'ith vermin" but at least he could consider li#e?s most vital =uestions. *hese includedA ho' many o# its o'n lengths can a #lea @umpI And do gnats hum through their mouths or their anusesI *hough Aristophanes omitted to elaborate on the results o# ocrates? =uestions" the audience must have been le#t 'ith an ade=uate sense o# their relevance. Aristophanes 'as articulating a #amiliar criticism o# intellectualsA that through their =uestions they dri#t #urther #rom sensible vie's than those 'ho have never ventured to analyse matters in a systematic 'ay. 1ividing the play'right and the philosopher 'as a contrasting assessment o# the ade=uacy o# ordinary e<planations. Dhereas sane people could in Aristophanes? eyes rest in the !no'ledge that #leas @umped #ar given their si>e and that gnats made a noise #rom some'here" ocrates stood accused o# a manic suspicion o# common sense and o# harbouring a perverse hunger #or complicated" inane alternatives. *o 'hich ocrates 'ould have replied that in certain cases" though perhaps not those involving #leas" common sense might 'arrant more pro#ound in=uiry. A#ter brie# conversations 'ith many Athenians" popular vie's on ho' to lead a good li#e" vie's described as normal and so beyond =uestion by the ma@ority" revealed surprising inade=uacies o# 'hich the con#ident manner o# their proponents had given no indication. Contrary to 'hat Aristophanes hoped" it seemed that those ocrates spo!e to barely !ne' 'hat they 'ere tal!ing about.

7. *'o conversations +ne a#ternoon in Athens" to #ollo' Plato?s )aches" the philosopher came upon t'o esteemed generals" &icias and )aches. *he generals had #ought the partan armies in the battles o# the Peloponnesian Dar" and had earned the respect o# the city?s elders and the admiration o# the young. Both 'ere to die as soldiersG )aches in the battle o# ;antinea in 580 BC" &icias in the ill-#ated e<pedition to icily in 587 BC. &o portrait o# them survives" though one imagines that in battle they might have resembled t'o horsemen on a section o# the Parthenon #rie>e. *he generals 'ere attached to one common-sense idea. *hey believed that in order to be courageous" a person had to belong to an army" advance in battle and !ill adversaries. But on encountering them under open s!ies" ocrates #elt inclined to as! a #e' more =uestionsA +C$A*: A )et?s try to say 'hat courage is" )aches. )AC%: A ;y 'ord" ocrates" that?s not di##icultJ I# a man is prepared to stand in the ran!s" #ace up to the enemy and not run a'ay" you can be sure that he?s courageous. But ocrates remembered that at the battle o# Plataea in 534 BC" a ,ree! #orce under the partan regent Pausanias had initially retreated" then courageously de#eated the Persian army under ;ardoniusA +C$A*: G At the battle o# Plataea" so the story goes" the partans came up against Kthe PersiansL" but 'eren?t 'illing to stand and #ight" and #ell bac!. *he Persians bro!e ran!s in pursuitG but then the partans 'heeled round #ighting li!e cavalry and hence 'on that part o# the battle. 9orced to thin! again" )aches came #or'ard 'ith a second common-sense ideaA that courage 'as a !ind o# endurance. But endurance could" ocrates pointed out" be directed to'ards rash ends. *o distinguish true courage #rom delirium" another element 'ould be re=uired. )aches? companion &icias" guided by ocrates"

proposed that courage 'ould have to involve !no'ledge" an a'areness o# good and evil" and could not al'ays be limited to 'ar#are. In only a brie# outdoor conversation" great inade=uacies had been discovered in the standard de#inition o# a much-admired Athenian virtue. It had been sho'n not to ta!e into account the possibility o# courage o## the battle#ield or the importance o# !no'ledge being combined 'ith endurance. *he issue might have seemed tri#ling but its implications 'ere immense. I# a general had previously been taught that ordering his army to retreat 'as co'ardly" even E'hen it seemed the only sensible manoeuvre" then the rede#inition broadened his options and emboldened him against criticism. In Plato?s *eno" ocrates 'as again in conversation 'ith someone supremely con#ident o# the truth o# a common-sense idea. ;eno 'as an imperious aristocrat 'ho 'as visiting A#rica #rom his native *hessaly and had an idea about the relation o# money to virtue. In order to be virtuous" he e<plained to ocrates" one had to be very rich" and poverty 'as invariably a personal #ailing rather than an accident. De lac! a portrait o# ;eno" too" though on loo!ing through a ,ree! men?s maga>ine in the lobby o# an Athenian hotel" I imagined that he might have borne a resemblance to a man drin!ing champagne in an illuminated s'imming pool. *he virtuous man" ;eno con#idently in#ormed ocrates" 'as someone o# great 'ealth 'ho could a##ord good things. ocrates as!ed a #e' more =uestionsA +C$A*: A By good do you mean such things as health and 'ealthI ;:&+A I include the ac=uisition o# both gold and silver" and o# high and honourable o##ice in the state. +C$A*: A Are these the only !ind o# good things you recogni>eI ;:&+A (es" I mean everything o# that sort. +C$A*: A ... 1o you add ?@ust and righteous? to the 'ord ?ac=uisition?" or doesn?t it ma!e any di##erence to youI 1o you call it virtue all the same even i# they are un@ustly ac=uiredA ;:&+A Certainly not.

+C$A*: A o it seems that @ustice or temperance or piety" or some other part o# virtue must attach to the ac=uisition Ko# gold and silverL... In #act" lac! o# gold and silver" i# it results #rom a #ailure to ac=uire them ... in circumstances 'hich 'ould have made their ac=uisition un@ust" is itsel# virtue. ;:&+A It loo!s li!e it. +C$A*: A *hen to have such goods is no more virtue than to lac! them... ;:&+A (our conclusion seems inescapable. In a #e' moments" ;eno had been sho'n that money and in#luence 'ere not in themselves necessary and su##icient #eatures o# virtue. $ich people could be admirable" but this depended on ho' their 'ealth had been ac=uired" @ust as poverty could not by itsel# reveal anything o# the moral 'orth o# an individual. *here 'as no binding reason #or a 'ealthy man to assume that his assets guaranteed his virtueG and no binding reason #or a poor one to imagine that his indigence 'as a sign o# depravity.

5. Dhy others may not #eno' *he topics may have dated" but the underlying moral has notA other people may be 'rong" even 'hen they are in important positions" even 'hen they are espousing belie#s held #or centuries by vast ma@orities. And the reason is simpleA they have not e<amined their belie#s logically. ;eno and the generals held unsound ideas because they had absorbed the prevailing norms 'ithout testing their logic. *o point out the peculiarity o# their passivity" ocrates compared living 'ithout thin!ing systematically to practising an activity li!e pottery or shoema!ing 'ithout #ollo'ing or even !no'ing o# technical procedures. +ne 'ould never imagine that a good pot or shoe could result #rom intuition aloneG 'hy rhen assume that the more comple< tas! o# directing one?s li#e could be

underta!en 'ithout any sustained re#lection on premises or goalsI Perhaps because 'e don?t believe that directing our lives is in #act complicated. Certain di##icult activities loo! very di##icult #rom the outside" 'hile other" e=ually di##icult activities loo! very easy. Arriving at sound vie's on ho' to live #alls into the second category" ma!ing a pot or a shoe into the #irst. ;a!ing it 'as clearly a #ormidable tas!. Clay #irst had to be brought to Athens" usually #rom a large pit at Cape Molias 3 miles south o# the city" and placed on a 'heel" spun at bet'een -0 and 8-0 rotations per minute" the speed inversely proportional to the diameter o# the part being moulded Bvhe narro'er the pot" the #aster the 'heelC. *hen came sponging" scraping" brushing and handlema!ing. &e<t" the vase had to be coated 'ith a blac! gla>e made #rom #ine compact clay mi<ed 'ith potash. +nce the gla>e 'as dry" the vase 'as placed in a !iln" heated to 000 NC 'ith the air vent open. It turned a deep red" the result or? clay hardening into #erric o<ide B9e2+7C. *herea#ter" it 'as #ired to 4-0 NC 'ith the air vent closed and 'et leaves added to the !iln #or moisture" 'hich turned the body o# the vase a greyish blac! and the gla>e a sintered blac! Bmagnetite" 9e7+5C. A#ter a #e' hours" the air vent 'as reopened" the leaves ra!ed out and the temperature allo'ed to drop to 400 NC. Dhile the gla>e retained the blac! or the second #iring" the body o# the vase returned to the deep red o# the #irst. It isn?t surprising that #e' Athenians 'ere dra'n to spin their o'n vases 'ithout thin!ing. Pottery loo!s as di##icult as it is. Un#ortunately" arriving at good ethical ideas doesn?t" belonging instead to a troublesome class o# super#icially simple but inherently comple< activities. ocrates encourages us not to be unnerved by the con#idence o# people 'ho #ail to respect this comple<ity and #ormulate their vie's 'ithout at least as much rigour as a potter. Dhat is declared obvious and ?natural? rarely is so. $ecognition o# this should teach us to thin! that the 'orld is more #le<ible than it seems" #or the established vie's have #re=uently emerged not through a process o# #aultless reasoning" but through centuries o# intellectual muddle. *here may be no good reason #or things to be the 'ay they are.

-. %o' to thin! #or onesel# *he philosopher does not only help us to conceive that others may be 'rong" he o##ers us a simple method by 'hich 'e can ourselves determine 'hat is right. 9e' philosophers have had a more minimal sense o# 'hat is needed to begin a thin!ing li#e. De do not need years o# #ormal education and a leisured e<istence. Anyone 'ith a curious and 'ell-ordered mind 'ho see!s to evaluate a common-sense belie# can start a conversation 'ith a #riend in a city street and" by #ollo'ing a ocratic method" may arrive at one or t'o ground-brea!ing ideas in under hal# an hour. ocrates? method o# e<amining common sense is observable in all Plato?s early and middle dialogues and" because it #ollo's consistent steps" may 'ithout in@ustice be presented in the language o# a recipe boo! or manual" and applied to any belie# one is as!ed to accept or #eels inclined to rebel against. *he correctness o# a statement cannot" the method suggests" be determined by 'hether it is held by a ma@ority or has been believed #or a long time by impor rant people. A correct statement is one incapable o# being rationally contradicted. A statement is true i# it cannot be disproved. I# it can" ho'ever many believe it" ho'ever grand they may be" it must be #alse and 'e are right to doubt it.

*he ocratic method #or thin!ing 8. )ocate a statement con#idently described as common sense. Acting courageously involves not retreating in battle. +eing virtuous requires money. 2. Imagine #or a moment that" despite the con#idence o# the person proposing it" the statement is #alse. earch #or situations or conte<ts

'here the statement 'ould not be true. Could one ever be courageous and yet retreat in battle, Could one ever stay firm in battle and yet not be courageous, Could one ever have money and not be virtuous, Could one ever have no money and be virtuous, 7. I# an e<ception is #ound" the de#inition must be #alse or at least imprecise. lt is possible to be courageous and retreat. It is possible to stay firm in battk yet not be courageous. It is possible to have money and be a crook. It is possible to be poor and virtuous. 5. *he initial statement must be nuanced to ta!e the e<ception into account. Acting courageously can involve both retreat and i(dvance in battle. -eople who have money can be described as virtuous only if they have acquired it in a virtuous way, and some people with no money can be virtuous when they have lived through situations where it was impossible to be virtuous and make money. -. I# one subse=uently #inds e<ceptions ro the improved statements" the process should be repeated. *he truth" in so #ar as a human being is able to attain such a thing" lies in a statement 'hich it seems impossible to disprove. It is by #inding out 'hat something is not that one comes closest to understanding 'hat it is. .. *he product o# thought is" 'hatever Aristophanes insinuated" superior to the product o# intuition. It may o# course be possible to arrive at truths 'ithout philosophi>ing. 'ithout #ollo'ing a ocratic method" 'e may reali>e that people 'ith no money may be called virtuous i# they have lived through situations in 'hich it 'as impossible to be virtuous and ma!e money" or that acting courageously can involve retreat in battle. But 'e ris! not !no'ing ho' to respond to people 'ho don?t agree 'ith us" unless 'e have #irst thought through the ob@ections to our position logically. De ma-v be silenced by impressive #igures 'ho tell us #orce#ully that money is essential to virtue and that only e##eminates retreat in battle. )ac!ing counterargu-

ments to lend us strength Bthe battle o# Plataea and enrichment in a corrupt societyC" 'e 'ill have to propose limply or petulantly that 'e #eel 'e are right" 'ithout being able to e<plain 'hy. ocrates described a correct belie# held 'ithout an a'areness o# ho' to respond rationally to ob@ections as true opinion" and contrasted it un#avourably 'ith !no'ledge" 'hich involved understanding not only 'hy something 'as true" but also 'hy its alternatives 'ere #alse. %e li!ened the t'o versions o# the truth to beauti#ul 'or!s by the great sculptor 1aedalus. A truth produced by intuition 'as li!e a statue set do'n 'ithout support on an outdoor plinth. A strong 'ind could at any time !noc! it over. But a truth supported by reasons and an a'areness o# counterarguments 'as li!e a statue anchored to the ground by tethering cables.

ocrates? method o# thin!ing promised us a 'ay to develop opinions in 'hich 'e could" even i# con#ronted 'ith a storm" #eel veritable con#idence. In his seventieth year" ocrates ran into a hurricane. *hree Athenians - the poet ;eletus" the politician Anytus and the orator )ycon - decided that he 'as a strange and evil man. *hey claimed that he had #ailed to 'orship the city?s gods" had corrupted the social #abric o# Athens and had turned young men against their #athers. *hey believed it 'as right that he should be silenced" and perhaps even !illed. *he city o# Athens had established procedures #or distinguishing right #rom 'rong. +n the south side o# the agora stood the Court o# the %eliasts" a large building 'ith 'ooden benches #or a @ury at one end" and a prosecution and de#endant?s plat#orm at the other. *rials began 'ith a speech #rom the prosecution" #ollo'ed by a speech #rom the de#ence. *hen a @ury numbering bet'een 200 and 2"-00 people 'ould indicate 'here the truth lay by a ballot or a sho' o# hands. *his method o# deciding right #rom 'rong by counting the number o# people in #avour o# a proposition 'as used throughout Athenian political and legal li#e. *'o or three times a month" all male citi>ens" some 70"000" 'ere invited to gather on Pny< hill south-'est o# the agora to decide on important =uestions o# state by a sho' o# hands. 9or the city" the opinion o# the ma@ority had been e=uated 'ith the truth.

*here 'ere -00 citi>ens in the @ury on the day o# ocrates? trial. *he prosecution began by as!ing them to consider that the philosopher standing be#ore them 'as a dishonest man. %e had in=uired into things belo' the earth and in the s!y" he 'as a heretic" he had resorted to shi#ty rhetorical devices to ma!e 'ea!er arguments de#eat stronger ones" and he had been a vicious in#luence on the young" intentionally corrupting them through his conversations. ocrates tried to ans'er the charges. %e e<plained that he had never held theories about the heavens nor investigated things belo' the earth" he 'as not a heretic and very much believed in divine activityG he had never corrupted the youth o# Athens - it 'as @ust that some young men 'ith 'ealthy #athers and plenty o# #ree time had imitated his =uestioning method" and annoyed important people by sho'ing them up as !no'-nothings. I# he had corrupted anyone" it could only have been unintentionally" #or there 'as no point in 'il#ully e<erting a bad in#luence on companions" because one ris!ed being harmed by them in turn. And i# he had corrupted people only unintentionally" then the correct procedure 'as a =uiet 'ord to set him straight" not a court case. %e admitted that he had led 'hat might seem a peculiar li#eA I have neglected the things that concern most people ( making money. managing an estate, gaining military or civic honours, or other positions of power, or &oining political dubs and parties which have formed in our cities. %o'ever" his pursuit o# philosophy had been motivated by a simple desire to improve the lives o# AtheniansA I tried to persuade each of you not to think more of practical advantages than of his mental and moral well(being. uch 'as his commitment to philosophy" he e<plained" that he 'as unable to give up the activity even i# the @ury made it the condition #or his ac=uittalA I shall go on saying in my usual way, '*y very good friend, you are an Athenian and belong to a city which is the greatest and most fam( ous in the world for its wisdom and strength. Are you not ashamed that you give your attention to acquiring as much money as possi( ble, and similarly with reputation and honour, and give no attention or thought to truth and understanding and the perfection of your soul,' And should any of you dispute that, and profess that he does

care about such things, I won't let him go straight away nor leave him, but will question and examine and put him to the test... I shall do this to everyone I meet, young or old, foreigner or fellow(citi en. It 'as the turn o# the @ury o# -00 to ma!e up their minds. A#ter brie# deliberation 220 decided ocrates 'asn?t guiltyG 200 that he 'as. *he philosopher responded 'rylyA ?I didn?t thin! the margin 'ould be so narro'.? But he did not lose con#idenceG there 'as no hesitation or alarmG he maintained #aith in a philosophical pro@ect that had been declared conclusively misconceived by a ma@ority -. per cent o# his audience. I# 'e cannot match such composure" i# 'e are prone to burst into tears a#ter only a #e' harsh 'ords about our character or achievements" it may be because the approval o# others #orms an essential part o# our capacity to believe that 'e are right. De #eel @usti#ied in ta!ing unpopularity seriously not only #or pragmatic reasons" #or reasons o# promotion or survival" but more importantly because being @eered at can seem an une=uivocal sign that 'e have gone astray. ocrates 'ould naturally have conceded that there are times 'hen 'e are in the 'rong and should be made to doubt our vie's" but he 'ould have added a vital detail to alter our sense o# truth?s relation to unpopularityA errors in our thought and 'ay o# li#e can at no point and in no 'ay ever be proven simply by the #act that 'e have run into opposition. Dhat should 'orry us is not the number o# people 'ho oppose us" but ho' good their reasons are #or doing so. De should there#ore divert our attention a'ay #rom the presence o# unpopularity to the e<planations #or it. It may be #rightening to hear that a high proportion o# a community holds us to be 'rong" but be#ore abandoning our position" 'e should consider the method by 'hich their conclusions have been reached. It is the soundness o# their method o# thin!ing that should determine the 'eight 'e give to their disapproval. De seem a##licted by the opposite tendencyA to listen to everyone" to be upset by every un!ind 'ord and sarcastic observation. De #ail to as! ourselves the cardinal and most consoling =uestionA on 'hat basis has this dar! censure been madeI De treat 'ith e=ual seriousness the ob@ections o# the critic 'ho has thought rigorously and honestly and those o# the critic 'ho has acted out o# misanthropy and envy.

De should ta!e time to loo! behind the criticism. As ocrates had learned" the thin!ing at its basis" though care#ully disguised" may be badly a'ry. Under the in#luence o# passing moods" our critics may have #umbled to'ards conclusions. *hey may have acted #rom impulse and pre@udice" and used their status to ennoble their hunches. *hey may have built up their thoughts li!e inebriated amateur potters. But #ortunately" unli!e in pottery" it is initially e<tremely hard to tell a good product o# thought #rom a poor one. It isn?t di##icult to identi#y the pot made by the inebriated cra#tsman and the one by the sober colleague. A bad thought delivered authoritatively" though 'ithout evidence o# ho' it 'as put together" can #or a time carry all the 'eight o# a sound one. But 'e ac=uire a misplaced respect #or others 'hen 'e concentrate solely on their conclusions - 'hich is 'hy ocrates urged us to d'ell on the logic they used to reach them. :ven i# 'e cannot escape the conse=uences o# opposition" 'e 'ill at least be spared the debilitating sense o# standing in error. *he idea had #irst emerged some time be#ore the trial" during a conversation bet'een ocrates and Polus" a 'ell-!no'n teacher o# rhetoric visiting Athens #rom icily. Polus had some chilling political vie's" o# 'hose truth he 'ished ardently to convince ocrates. *he teacher argued that there 'as at heart no happier li#e #or a human being than to be a dictator" #or dictatorship enabled one ro act as one pleased" ro thro' enemies in prison" con#iscate their property and e<ecute them. ocrates listened politely" then ans'ered 'ith a series o# logical arguments attempting to sho' that happiness lay in doing good. But Polus dug in his heels and a##irmed his position by pointing out that dictators 'ere o#ten revered by huge numbers o# people. %e mentioned Archelaus" the !ing o# ;acedon" 'ho had murdered his uncle" his cousin and a seven-year-old legitimate heir and yet continued to en@oy great public support in Athens. *he number o# people 'ho li!ed Archelaus 'as a sign" concluded Polus" that his theory on dictatorship 'as correct. ocrates courteously admitted that it might be very easy to #ind people 'ho li!ed Archelaus" and harder to #ind anyone to support the vie' that doing good brought one happinessA ?I# you #eel li!e calling 'itnesses to claim that 'hat I?m saying is 'rong" you can count on your position being supported by almost everyone in Athens2 e<plained ocrates" ?'hether they 'ere born and bred

here or else'here.? /ou'd have the support of 0icias the son of 0iceratus, if you wanted, along with his brothers, who between them have a whole row of tripods standing in the precinct of 1ionysus. /ou'd have the support of Aristocrates the son of Scellius as well. . . /ou could call on the whole of -ericles' household, if you felt like it, or any other Athenian family you care to choose. But 'hat ocrates >ealously denied 'as that this 'idespread support #or Polus?s argument could on its o'n in any 'ay prove it correctA #he trouble is, -olus, you're trying to use on me the kind of rhetor( ical refutation which people in lawcourts think is successful. #here too people think they're proving the other side wrong if they pro( duce a large number of eminent witnesses in support of the points they're making, when their opponent can only come up with a single witness or none at all. +ut this kind of reputation is com( pletely worthless in the context of the truth, since it's perfectly possible for someone to be defeated in court by a horde of witnesses who have no more than apparent respectability and who all happen to testify against him. *rue respectability stems not #rom the 'ill o# the ma@ority but #rom proper reasoning. Dhen 'e are ma!ing vases" 'e should listen to the advice o# those 'ho !no' about turning gla>e into 9e7+5 at 0ooNCG 'hen 'e are ma!ing a ship" it is the verdict o# those 'ho construct triremes that should 'orry usG and 'hen 'e are considering ethical matters - ho' to be happy and courageous and @ust and good - 'e should not be intimidated by bad thin!ing" even i# it issues #rom the lips o# teachers o# rhetoric" mighty generals and 'ell-dressed aristocrats #rom *hessaly. It sounded elitist" and it 'as. &ot everyone is 'orth listening to. (et ocrates? elitism had no trace o# snobbery or pre@udice. %e might have discriminated in the vie's he attended" but the discrimination operated not on the basis o# class or money" nor on the basis o# military record or nationality" but on the basis o# reason" 'hich 'as - as he stressed - a #aculty accessible to all. *o #ollo' the ocratic e<ample 'e should" 'hen #aced 'ith criticism" behave li!e athletes training #or the +lympic games. In#ormation on sport 'as #urther supplied by See Inside an Ancient $reek #own.

Imagine 'e?re athletes. +ur trainer has suggested an e<ercise to strengthen our calves #or the @avelin. It re=uires us ro stand on one leg and li#t 'eights. It loo!s peculiar to outsiders" 'ho moc! and complain that 'e are thro'ing a'ay our chances o# success. In the baths" 'e overhear a man e<plain to another that 'e are rOBi*v )ieFel PC6iov *+ <.. +F:P*O Ma!P ibu.ei<v1va) rQ *+ po*i,eiv **O3i.Fei 6igoP *#Ov .F?uu6iiovi<*Lv. B;ore interested in sho'ing o## a set o# cal# muscles than helping the city 'in the games.C Cruel" but no grounds #or alarm i# 'e listen to ocrates in conversation 'ith his #riend CritoA +C$A*: A Dhen a man is ... ta!ing his trainingL seriously" does he pay attention to all praise and criticism and opinion indiscriminately" or only 'hen it comes #rom the one =uali#ied person" the actual doctor or trainerI C$I*+A +nly 'hen it comes #rom the one =uali#ied person. +C$A*: A *hen he should be a#raid o# the criticism and 'elcome the praise o# rhe one =uali#ied person" but not those o# the general public. C$I*+A +bviously. +C$A*: A %e ought to regulate his actions and e<ercises and eating and drin!ing by the 6udgement o# his instructor" 'ho has e<pert !no'ledge" not by the opinions u# the rest o# the public. *he value o# criticism 'ill depend on the thought processes o# critics" not on their number or ran!A 1on't you think it a good principle that one shouldn't respect all human opinions, bur only some and not others . . . that one should respect the good ones, but not the bad ones,... And good ones are those of people with understanding, whereas bad ones are those of people without it... So my good friend, we shouldn't care all that much about what the populace will say of us, but about what the expert on matters of &ustice and in&ustice will say. *he @urors on the benches o# the Court o# the %eliasts 'ere no e<perts. *hey included an unusual number o# the old and the 'ar'ounded" 'ho loo!ed to @ury 'or! as an easy source o# additional income. *he salary 'as three obols a day" less than a manual labourer?s" but help#ul i# one 'as si<ty-three and bored at home.

*he only =uali#ications 'ere citi>enship" a sound mind and an absence o# debts - though soundness o# mind 'as not @udged by ocratic criteria" more the ability to 'al! in a straight line and produce one?s name 'hen as!ed. ;embers o# the @ury #ell asleep during trials" rarely had e<perience o# similar cases or relevant la's" and 'ere given no guidance on ho' to reach verdicts. ocrates? o'n @ury had arrived 'ith violent pre@udices. *hey had been in#luenced by Aristophanes? caricature o# ocrates" and #elt that the philosopher had played a role in the disasters that had be#allen the once-mighty city at the end o# the century. *he Peloponnesian Dar had #inished in catastrophe" a partan-Persian alliance had brought Athens to her !nees" the city had been bloc!aded" her #leet destroyed and her empire dismembered. Plagues had bro!en out in poorer districts" and democracy had been suppressed by a dictatorship guilty o# e<ecuting a thousand citi>ens. 9or ocrates? enemies" it 'as more than coincidence that many o# the dictators had once spent time 'ith the philosopher. Critias and Charmides had discussed ethical matters 'ith ocrates" and it seemed all they had ac=uired as a result 'as a lust #or murder. Dhat could have accounted #or Athens?s spectacular #all #rom graceI Dhy had the greatest city in %ellas" 'hich seventy-#ive years be#ore had de#eated the Persians on land at Plataea and at sea at ;ycale" been #orced to endure a succession o# humiliationsI *he man in the dirty cloa! 'ho 'andered the streets as!ing the obvious seemed one ready" entirely #la'ed e<planation. ocrates understood that he had no chance. %e lac!ed even the time to ma!e a case. 1e#endants had only minutes to address a @ury" until the 'ater had run #rom one @ar to another in the court cloc!A I am convinced that I never wronged anyone intentionally, but I cannot convince you of this, because we have so little time for discussion. If it was your practice, as it is with other nations, to give not one day but several to the hearing of capital trials, I believe that you might have been convinced. but under present conditions it is not so easy to dispose of grave allegations in a short space of time. An Athenian courtroom 'as no #orum #or the discovery o# the truth. It 'as a rapid encounter 'ith a collection o# the aged and one-legged 'ho had not submitted their belie#s to rational e<amination and 'ere 'aiting #or the 'ater to run #rom one @ar to the other.

It must have been di##icult to hold this in mind" it must have re=uired the !ind o# strength accrued during years in conversation 'ith ordinary AtheniansA the strength" under certain circumstances" not to ta!e the vie's o# others seriously. ocrates 'as not 'il#ul" he did not dismiss these vie's out o# misanthropy" 'hich 'ould have contravened his #aith in the potential #or rationality in every human being. But he had been up at da'n #or most o# his li#e tal!ing to AtheniansG he !ne' ho' their minds 'or!ed and had seen that un#ortunately they #re=uently didn?t" even i# he hoped they 'ould some day. %e had observed their tendency to ta!e positions on a 'him and to #ollo' accepted opinions -'ithout =uestioning them. It 'asn?t arrogance to !eep this be#ore him at a moment o# supreme opposition. %e possessed the sel#-belie# o# a rational man 'ho understands that his enemies are liable not to be thin!ing properly" even i# he is #ar #rom claiming that his o'n thoughts are invariably sound. *heir disapproval could !ill himG it did not have to ma!e him 'rong. +# course" he might have renounced his philosophy and saved his li#e. :ven a#ter he had been #ound guilty" he could have escaped the death penalty" but 'asted the opportunity through intransigence. De should not loo! to ocrates #or advice on escaping a death sentenceG 'e should loo! to him as an e<treme e<ample o# ho' to maintain con#idence in an intelligent position 'hich has met 'ith illogical opposition. *he philosopher?s speech rose to an emotional #inaleA If you put me to death, you will not easily find anyone to take my place. #he fact is, if I may put the point in a somewhat comical way, that I have been literally attached by $od to our city, as though it were a large thoroughbred horse which because of its great si e is inclined to be la y and needs the stimulation of a gadfly . . . If you take my advice you will spare my life, I suspect, however, that before long you will awake from your drowsing, and in your annoyance you will take Anytus's advice and finish me off with a single slap. and then you will go on sleeping. %e 'as not mista!en. Dhen the magistrate called #or a second" #inal verdict" 7.0 members o# the @ury voted #or the philosopher to be put to death. *he @urors 'ent homeG the condemned man 'as escorted to prison. It must have been dar! and close" and the sounds coming up #rom the street 'ould have included @eers #rom Athenians anticipating the end o# the satyr-#aced thin!er. %e 'ould have been !illed at

once had the sentence not coincided 'ith the annual Athenian mission to 1elos. during 'hich" tradition decreed" the city could not put anyone to death. ocrates? good nature attracted the sympathy o# the prison 'arder" 'ho alleviated his last days by allo'ing him to receive visitors. A stream o# them cameG Phaedo" Crito" Crito?s son Critobulus" Apollodorus" %ermogenes" :pigenes" Aeschines" Anristhenes" Ctesippus" ;ene<enus" immias" Cebes" Phaedondas" :uclides and *erpsion. *hey could not disguise their distress at seeing a man 'ho had only ever displayed great !indness and curiosity to'ards others 'aiting to meet his end li!e a criminal. *hough 1avid?s canvas presented ocrates surrounded by devastated #riends" 'e should remember that their devotion stood out in a sea o# misunderstanding and hatred. *o counterpoint the mood in the prison eelL and introduce variety" 1iderot might have urged a le' o# the many prospectivehemloc! painters to capture the mood o# other Athenians at the idea o# ocrates? death - 'hich might have resulted in paintings 'ith tides li!e 9ive 6urors Playing Cards a#ter a 1ay in Co'l or *he Accusers 9inishing 1inner and )oo!ing 9or'ard to Bed. A painter 'ith a taste #or pathos could more plainly have chosen to title these scenes *he 1eath o# ocrates" Dhen the appointed day came" ocrates 'as alone in remaining calm. %is 'i#e and three children 'ere brought to see him" but Fanthippe?s cries 'ere so hysterical" ocrates as!ed that she be ushered a'ay. %is #riends 'ere =uieter though no less tear#ul. :ven the prison 'arder" 'ho had seen many go to their deaths" 'as moved to address an a'!'ard #are'ellA 'In your time here, I've known you to be die most generous and gentlest and best of men who have ever come to this place . . . /ou know the message I've come to bring2 goodbye, then, and try to bear the inevitable as easily as you can.' And with this he turned away in tears and went off. *hen came the e<ecutioner" bearing a cup o# crushed hemloc!A %hen he saw the man Socrates said2 '%ell, my friend, you're an expert in these things2 what must one do,3 'Simply drink it,' he said, 'and walk about till a heaviness comes over your legs. then lie down, and it will act by itself.' And widi this he held our the cup to Socrates. 4e took it perfecdy calmly . .. without a tremor or any change ot colour or countenance . . . 4e pressed the cup to his lips, and drank it off with good humour and without th'i5( least dis(

taste. #ill then most of us had been able to restrain our tears fairly well 6narrated by -haedo7. but when we saw he was drinking, that he'd actually drunk it, we could do so no longer. In my own case, the tears came pouring out in spite of myself.. . "ven before me, Crito had moved away when he was unable to restrain his tears. And Apollodorus, who even earlier had been continuously in tears, now burst forth into such a storm of weeping and grieving, that he made everyone present break down except Socrates himself. *he philosopher implored his companions to calm themselves ?Dhat a 'ay to behave" my strange #riendsJ? he moc!ed - then stood up and 'al!ed around the prison cell so the poison could ta!e e##ect. Dhen his legs began to #eel heavy" he lay do'n on his bac! and the sensation le#t his #eet and legsG as the poison moved up'ards and reached his chest" he gradually lost consciousness. %is breathing became slo'. +nce he sa' that his best #riend?s eyes had gro'n #i<ed" Crito reached over and closed themA And that Ksaid PhaedoL . . . 'as the end o# our companion" 'ho 'as" 'e can #airly say" o# all those o# his time 'hom 'e !ne'" the bravest and also the 'isest and most upright man. It is hard not to start crying onesel#. Perhaps because ocrates is said to have had a bulbous head and peculiar 'idely-spaced eyes" the scene o# his death made me thin! o# an a#ternoon on 'hich I had 'ept 'hile 'atching a tape o# *he :lephant ;an. It seemed that both men had su##ered one o# the saddest o# #ates to be good and yet @udged evil. De might never have been @eered at #or a physical de#ormity" nor condemned to death #or our li#e?s 'or!" but there is something uniE versaJ in the scenario o# being misunderstood o# 'hich these stories are tragic" consummate e<amples. ocial li#e is beset 'ith disparities bet'een othersR perceptions o# us and our reality. De are accused o# stupidity 'hen 'e are being cautious. +ur shyness is ta!en #or arrogance and our desire ro please #or sycophancy. De struggle to dear up a misunderstanding" but our throat goes dry and the 'ords #ound are not the ones meant. Bitter enemies are appointed to positions o# po'er over us" and denounce us to others. In the hatred un#airly directed to'ards an innocent philosopher 'e recogni>e an echo o# the hurt 'e ourselves encounter at the hands o# those 'ho are either unable or un'illing to do us @ustice. But there is redemption in the story" too. oon a#ter the philoso-

pher?s death the mood began to change. Isocrates reported that the audience 'atching :uripides? Palamedes burst into tears 'hen ocrates? name 'as mentionedG 1iodorus said that his accusers 'ere eventually lynched by the people o# Athens. Plutarch tells us that the Athenians developed such hatred #or the accusers that they re#used to bathe 'ith them and ostraci>ed them socially until" in despair" they hanged themselves. 1iogenes )aertius recounts that only a short 'hile a#ter ocrates? death the city condemned ;eletus to death" banished Anyms and )ycon and erected a costly bron>e statue o# ocrates ,ra#ted by the great )ysippus. *he philosopher had predicted that Athens 'ould eventually see things his 'ay" and it did. uch redemption can be hard to believe in. De #orget that time may be needed #or pre@udices to #all a'ay and envy to recede. *he story encourages us to interpret our o'n unpopularity other than through the moc!ing eyes o# local @uries. ocrates 'as @udged by -00 men o# limited intelligence 'ho harboured irrational suspicions because Athens had lost the Peloponnesian Dar and the de#endant loo!ed strange. And yet he maintained #aith in the @udgement o# 'ider courts. *hough 'e inhabit one place at one time" through this e<ample" 'e may imaginatively pro@ect ourselves into other lands and eras 'hich promise to @udge us 'ith greater ob@ectivity. De may not convince local @uries in time to help ourselves" but 'e can be consoled by the prospect o# posterity?s verdict. (et there is a danger that ocrates? death 'ill seduce us #or the 'rong reasons. It may #oster a sentimental belie# in a secure connection bet'een being hated by the ma@ority and being right. It can seem the destiny o# geniuses and saints to su##er early misunderstanding" then to be accorded bron>e statues by )ysippus. De may be neither geniuses nor saints. De may simply be privileging the stance o# de#iance over good reasons #or it" childishly trusting that 'e are never so right as 'hen others tell us 'e are 'rong. *his 'as not ocrates? intention. It 'ould be as naive to hold that unpopularity is synonymous 'ith truth as to believe that it is synonymous 'ith error. *he validity o# an idea or action is determined not by 'hether it is 'idely believed or 'idely reviled but by 'hether it obeys the rules o# logic. It is not because an argument is denounced by a ma@ority that it is 'rong nor" #or those dra'n to heroic de#iance" that it is right. *he philosopher o##ered us a 'ay out o# t'o po'er#ul delusionsA that 'e should al'ays or never listen to the dictates o# public opinion.

*o #ollo' his e<ample" 'e 'ill best be re'arded i# 'e strive instead to listen al'ays to the dictates o# reason.

II Consolation #or &ot %aving :nough ;oney

52 %appiness" an ac=uistion list 8. A neoclassical ,eorgian house in the centre o# )ondon. Chelsea BParadise Dal!" ;ar!ham =uareC" Mensington Bthe southern part o# Campden %ill $oad" %ornton treetC" %olland Par! BAubrey $oadC. In appearance" similar to the #ront elevation o# the $oyal ociety o# Arts designed by the Adam brothers B8332-5C. *o catch the pale light o# late )ondon a#ternoons" large Senetian 'indo's o##set by Ionic columns Band an arched tympanum 'ith anthemionsC. In the #irst-#loor dra'ing room" a ceiling and a chimney-piece li!e $obert Adam?s design #or the library at Men'ood %ouse. 2. A @et stationed at 9arnborough or Biggin %ill Ba 1assault 9alcon 40oc or ,ul#stream ISC 'ith avionics #or the nervous #lyer" ground-pro<imity 'arning system" turbulence-detecting radar and CA* II autopilot. +n the tail-#in" to replace the standard stripes" a detail #rom a still li#e" a #ish by Sela>=ue> or three lemons by anche> Cotan #rom the 9ruit and Segetables in the Prado. 7. *he Silla +rsetti in ;arlia near )ucca. 9rom the bedroom" vie's over 'ater" and the sound o# #ountains. At the bac! o# the house" a magnolia 1elavayi gro'ing along the 'all" a terrace #or 'inter" a great tree #or summer and a la'n #or games. heltered gardens indulgent to #ig and nectarine. =uares o# cypresses"

ro's o# lavender" orange trees and an olive orchard. 5. A library 'ith a large des!" a #ireplace and a vie' on to a garden. :arly editions 'ith the com#orting smell o# old boo!s" pages yello'ed and rough to rhe touch. +n lop o# shelves" busts o# great thin!ers and astrological globes. )i!e the design o# the library #or a house #or Dilliam in o# %olland. -. A dining room li!e that at Be!on %ousi. Gn )incolnshire. A long oa! table seating t'elve. 9re=uent dinnc T 'ith the same #riends. *he conversation intelligent but play#ul. Al'ays a##ectionate. A thought#ul che# and considerate sta## to remove any administrative di##iculties Bthe che# adept at >ucchini panca!es" tagliatelle 'ith 'hite tru##les" #ish soup" risotto" =uail" 6ohn 1ory and roast chic!enC. A small dra'ing room to retire to #or tea and chocolates. .. A bed built into a niche in the 'all Bli!e one by 6ean-9rancois Blondel in ParisC. tarched linen changed every day" cold to the chee!. *he bed hugeG toes do not touch the end o# the bedG one 'allo's. $ecessed cabinets #or 'ater and biscuits" and another #or a television. 3. An immense bathroom 'ith a rub in the middle on a raised plat#orm" made o# marble 'ith cobalt-blue seashell designs. *aps that can be operated 'ith the sole o# the #oot and release 'ater in a broad" gentle stream. A s!ylight visible #rom the bath. %eated limestone #loors. +n the 'alls" reproductions o# the #rescos on the precinct o# the *emple o# Isis in Pompeii. 0. ;oney su##icient to allo' one to live on the interest o# the interest. 4. 9or 'ee!ends" a penthouse apartment at the tip o# the %e de la Cite decorated 'ith pieces #rom the noblest period o# 9rench #urniture Band the 'ea!est o# governmentC" the reign o# )ouis <vi. A hal#-moon commode by Crevenich" a console by aunier. a bonheur-du-@our by Sandercruse-)a Croi<. )a>y mornings reading Pariscope in bed" eating pain au cnocolat on evres china and chatting abour e<istence 'ith" and occasionally teasing" a reincarnation o# ,iovanni Bellini?s ;adonna B#rom the ,alleria del9Accademia in SeniceC" 'hose melancholy e<pression 'ould belie a dry sense o# humour and spontaneity and 'ho 'ould dress in Agnes B and ;a< ;ara #or 'al!s around the ;arais.

2 An anomaly among an o#ten pleasure-hating and austere #raternity" there 'as one philosopher 'ho seemed to understand and 'ant to help. ?I don?t !no' ho' I shall conceive o# the good"? he 'rote" ?i# I ta!e a'ay the pleasures o# taste" i# I ta!e a'ay se<ual pleasure" i# I ta!e a'ay the pleasure o# hearing" and i# I ta!e a'ay the s'eet emotions that are caused by the sight o# beauti#ul #orms.? :picurus 'as born in 758 BC on the verdant island o# amos" a #e' miles o## the coast o# Destern Asia ;inor. %e too! early to philosophy" travelling #rom the age o# #ourteen to hear lessons #rom the Platonist Pamphilus and the atomic philosopher &ausiphanes. But he #ound he could not agree 'ith much o# 'hat they taught and by his late t'enties had decided to arrange his thoughts into his o'n philosophy o# li#e. %e is said to have 'ritten 700 boo!s on almost everything" including 8n )ove, 8n *usic, 8n 9ust 1ealing, 8n 4uman )ife Bin #our boo!sC and 8n 0ature Bin thirty-seven boo!sC" though by a catastrophic series o# mishaps" almost all 'ere lost over the centuries" leaving his philosophy to be reconstructed #rom a #e' surviving #ragments and the testimony o# later :picureans. Dhat immediately distinguished his philosophy 'as an emphasis on the importance o# sensual pleasureA ?Pleasure is the beginning and the goal o# a happy li#e2 asserted :picurus" con#irming 'hat many had long thought but philosophy had rarely accepted. *he philosopher con#essed his love o# e<cellent #oodA *he beginning and root o# every good is the pleasure o# the stomach. :ven 'isdom and culture must be re#erred to this.? Philosophy properly per#ormed 'as to be nothing less than a guide to pleasureA #he man who alleges that he is not yet ready for philosophy or that the time for it has passed him by, is like the man who says that he is either too young or too old for happiness. 9e' philosophers had ever made such #ran! admissions o# their interest in a pleasurable li#esiyle. It shoc!ed many" especially 'hen they heard that :picurus had attracted the support o# some 'ealthy people" #irst in )ampsacus in the 1ardanelles" and then in

Athens" and had used their money to set up a philosophical establishment to promote happiness. *he school admitted both men and 'omen" and encouraged them to live and study pleasure together. *he idea o# 'hat 'as going on inside the school appeared at once titillating and morally reprehensible. *here 'ere #re=uent lea!s #rom disgruntled :picureans detailing activities bet'een lectures. *imocrates" the brother o#:picurusPs associate ;etrodorus" spread a rumour that :picurus had to vomit t'ice a day because he ate so much. And 1iorimus the toic too! the un!ind step o# publishing #i#ty le'd letters 'hich he said had been 'ritten by :picurus 'hen he?d been drun! and se<ually #ren>ied. 1espite these criticisms" :picurus?s teachings continued to attract support. *hey spread across the ;editerranean 'orldG schools #or pleasure 'ere #ounded in yria" 6udaea" :gypt" Italy and ,aulG and the philosophy remained in#luential #or the ne<t -00 years" only gradually to be e<tinguished by the hostility o# #orbidding barbarians and Christians during the decline o# the $oman :mpire in the Dest. :ven then" :picurus?s name entered many languages in ad@ectival #orm as a tribute to his interests B+<#ord :nglish 1ictionaryA ?:picureanA devoted to the pursuit o# pleasureG hence" lu<urious" sensual" gluttonous?C. Bro'sing in a ne'sagent in )ondon 2"750 years a#ter the philosopher?s birth" I came upon copies o# :picurean. )i#e" a =uarterly maga>ine 'ith articles on hotels" yachts and restaurants" printed on paper 'ith the sheen o# a 'ell-polished apple. *he tenor o# :picurus?s interests 'as #urther suggested by *he :picurean" a restaurant in a small Dorcestershire to'n" 'hich o##ered its clientele" seated on high-bac!ed chairs in a hushed dining room" dinners o# seared sea scallops and cep risotto 'ith tru##les.

7 *he consistency o# the associations provo!ed by :picurus?s philos-

ophy throughout the ages" #rom 1iotimus the toic to the editors o# :picurean )i#e" testi#ies to the 'ay in 'hich" once the 'ord ?pleasure? has been mentioned" it seems obvious 'hat is entailed. Dhat do I need #or a happy li#eI? is #ar #rom a challenging =uestion 'hen money is no ob@ect. (et ?Dhat do I need #or a healthy li#eI? can be more di##icult to ans'er 'hen. #or e<ample" 'e are a##licted by bi>arre recurring headaches or an acme throb in the stomach area a#ter evening meals. De !no' there vsi a problemG ir can be hard to !no' the solution. In pain" the mind is prone to consider some strange curesA leeches" bleeding" nettle ste's" trepanning. An atrocious pain pulses in the temples and at the base o# the head" as though the 'hole cranium had been placed in a clamp and tightened. *he head #eels as i# it may soon e<plode. Dhat seems intuitively most necessary is to let some air into the s!ull. *he su##erer re=uests that a #riend place his head on a table and drill a small hole in the side. %e dies hours later o# a brain haemorrhage. I# consulting a good doctor is generally thought advisabi e despite the sombre atmosphere o# many surgery 'aiting rooms" ir is because someone ho has thought rationally and deeply about ho' the body 'or!s is li!ely to arrive at better ideas about ho' to be healthy than someone 'ho has #ollo'ed a hunch. ;edicine presupposes a hierarchy bet'een the con#usion the lay person 'ill be in about 'hat is 'rong 'irh them" and the more accurate !no'ledge available to doctors reasoning logically. 1octors are re=uired to compensate #or their patients? lac!" at times #atal" o# bodily sel#-!no'ledge. At the heart o# :picureanism is the thought that 'e are as bad at intuitively ans'ering ?Dhat 'ill ma!e me happyI? as ?Dhat 'ill ma!e me healthyI? *he ans'er ?..?'hich most rapidiy comes to mind is liable to be as #aulty. +ur souls do not spell out their troubles more clearly than our bodies" and our intuitive diagnoses are rarely any more accurate. *repanning might serve as a symbol o# the di##iculties o# understanding our psychological as much as our

physiological selves. A man #eels dissatis#ied. %e has trouble rising in the morning and is surly and distracted 'ith his #amily. Intuitively" he places the blame on his choice o# occupation and begins searching #or an alternative" despite the high costs o# doing so. It 'as the last time I 'ould turn to See Inside an Ancient $reek #own. 1eciding rapidly that he 'ould be happy in the #ish business" the man ac=uires a net and an e<pensive stall in the mar!et-place. And yet his melancholy does not abate. De are o#ten" in the 'ords o# the :picurean poet )ucretius" li!e the sic! man ignorant o# the cause o# his malady?. It is because 'e understand bodily maladies better than 'e can that 'e see! doctors. De should turn to philosophers #or the same reason 'hen our soul is un'ell - and @udge them according to a similar criterionA 6ust as medicine con#ers no bene#it i# it does not drive a'ay physical illness. so philosophy is useless i# it does not drive a'ay the su##ering o# the mind. *he tas! o# philosophy 'as" #or :picurus" to help us interpret our indistinct pulses o# distress and desire and thereby save us #rom mista!en schemes #or happiness. De 'ere to cease acting on #irst impulses" and instead investigate the rationality o# our desires according to a method o# =uestioning close to that used by ocrates in evaluating ethical de#initions over a hundred years earlier. And by providing 'hat might at times #eel li!e counter-intuitive diagnoses or our ailments" philosophy 'ould - :picurus promised guide us ro superior cures and true happiness.

5. *hose 'ho had heard the rumours must have been surprised to discover the real tastes o# the philosopher o# pleasure. *here 'as no grand house. *he #ood 'as simple" :picurus dran! 'ater

rather than 'ine" and 'as happy 'ith a dinner o# bread" vegetables and a palm#ul o# olives. ? end me a pot o# cheese" so that I may have a #east 'henever I li!e he as!ed a #riend. uch 'ere the tastes o# a man 'ho had described pleasure as the purpose o# li#e. %e had not meant to deceive. %is devotion to pleasure 'as #ar greater than even the orgy accusers could have imagined. It 'as @ust that a#ter rational analysis" he had come to some stri!ing conclusions about 'hat actually made li#e pleasurable - and #ortunately #or those lac!ing a large income" it seemed that the essential ingredients o# pleasure" ho'ever elusive" 'ere not very e<pensive.

%appiness" an :picurean ac=uisition list 8. 9riendship +n returning to Athens in 70. BC at the age o# thirty-#ive" :picurus settled on an unusual domestic arrangement. %e located a large house a #e' miles #rom the centre o# Athens" in the ;elite district bet'een the mar!et-place and the harbour at Piraeus" and moved in 'ith a group o# #riends. %e 'as @oined by ;etrodorus and his sister" the mathematician Polyaenus" %ermarchus" )eonteus and his 'i#e *hemisia" and a merchant called Idomeneus B'ho soon married ;etrodorus?s sisterC. *here 'as enough space in the house the #riends to have their o'n =uarters" and there 'ere common rooms #or meals and conversations. :picurus observed thatA 8f all the things that wisdom provides to help one live one's entire life in happiness, the greatest by far is the possession of friendship. uch 'as his attachment to congenial company" :picurus recommended thai one try never to eat aloneA +efore vou eat or drink anything, consider carefully who you eat or drink with rather than what you eat or drink2 for feeding without a friend is the life of a lion or a wolf.

*he household o# :picurus resembled a large #amily" but there 'as seemingly no sullenness nor sense o# con#inement" only sympathy and gentleness. De don?t e<ist unless there is someone 'ho can see us e<isting" 'hat 'e say has no meaning until someone can understand" 'hile to be surrounded by #riends is constantly to have our identity con#irmedG their !no'ledge and care #or us have the po'er to pull us #rom our numbness. In small comments" many o# them teasing" they reveal they !no' our #oibles and accept them and so" in turn" accept thai 'e have a place in the 'orld. De can as! them ?Isn?t he #righteningI? or ?1o you ever #eel that . . .I? and be understood" rather than encounter the pu>>led ?&o" not particularly? - 'hich can ma!e us #eel" even 'hen in company" as lonely as polar e<plorers. *rue #riends do not evaluate us according to 'orldly criteria" it is the core sel# they are interested inG li!e ideal parents" their love #or us remains una##ected by our appearance or position in the social hierarchy" and so 'e have no =ualms m dressing in old clothes and revealing that 'e have made little money this year. *he desire #or these should perhaps not al'ays be understood as a simple hunger #or a lu<urious li#e" a more important motive might be the 'ish to be appreciated and treated nicely. De may see! a #ortune #or no reason than to secure the respect and attention o# people Dho 'ould other'ise loo! straight through us. :picurus" discerning our underlying need" recogni>ed that a hand#ul o# true #riends could deliver the love and respect that even a #ortune may not. 2. 9reedom :picurus and his #riends made a second radical innovation. In order not to have to 'or! #or people they didn?t li!e and ans'er to potentially humiliating 'hims" they removed themselves #rom employment in the commercial 'orld o# Athens B?De must #ree ourselves #rom the prison o# everyday a##airs and polities?C" and began 'hat could best have been described as a commune" accepting a simpler 'ay o# li#e in e<change #or independence. *hey 'ould have less money but 'ould never again have to #ollo' the commands o# odious superiors. o they bought a garden near their house" a little outside the old 1ipylon gate" and gre' a range o# vegetables #or the !itchen" probably :iton BcabbageC" krommyon BonionC and kinara Bancestor o# the modern articho!e" o# 'hich the bottom 'as edible but not the scalesC. *heir diet 'as neither lu<urious nor abundant" but it 'as

#lavoursome and nutritious. As :picurus e<plained to his #riend ;enoeceus" ?K*he 'ise manL chooses not the greatest =uantity o# #ood but the most pleasant.? implicity did not a##ect the #riends? sense o# status because" by distancing themselves #rom the values o# Athens" they had ceased to @udge themselves on a material basis. *here 'as no need to be embarrassed by bare 'alls" and no bene#it in sho'ing o## gold. Among a group o# #riends living outside the political and economic centre o# the city" there 'as - in the #inancial sense - nothing to prove. 7. *hought *here are #e' better remedies #or an<iety than thought. In 'riting a problem do'n or airing it in conversation 'e let its essential aspects emerge. And by !no'ing its character" 'e remove" i# not the problem itsel#" then its secondary" aggravating characteristicsA con#usion" displacement" surprise. *here 'as much encouragement to thin! in the ,arden" as :picurus?s community became !no'n. ;any o# the #riends 'ere 'riters. According to 1iogenes )aertius" ;etrodorus" #or one" 'rote t'elve 'or!s" among them the lost %ay of %isdom and +# "picurus's %eak 4ealth. In the common rooms o# the house in ;elite and in the vegetable garden" there must have been unbro!en opportunities to e<amine problems 'ith people as intelligent as they 'ere sympathetic. :picurus 'as especially concerned that he and his #riends leam to analyse their an<ieties about money" illness" death and the supernatural. I# one thought rationally about mortality" one 'ould" :picurus argued" reali>e that there 'as nothing but oblivion a#ter death" and that ?'hat is no trouble 'hen it arrives is an idle 'orry in anticipation.? It 'as senseless to alarm onesel# in advance about a state 'hich one 'ould never e<perienceA *here is nothing dread#ul in li#e #or the man 'ho has truly comprehended that there is nothing terrible in not living. ober analysis calmed the mindG it spared :picurus?s #riends the #urtive glimpses o# di##iculties that 'ould have haunted them in the unre#lective environment beyond the ,arden. *** Dealth is o# course unli!ely ever to ma!e anyone miserable. But the cru< o# :picurus?s argument is that i# 'e have money 'ithout

#riends" #reedom and an analysed li#e" we will never be truly happy. And i# 'e have them" but are missing the #ortune" we will never be unhappy. *o highlight 'hat is essential #or happiness and 'hat may" i# one is denied prosperity through social in@ustice or economic turmoil" be #orgone 'ithout great regrets" :picurus divided our needs into three categoriesA +# the desires" some are natural and necessary. +thers are natural but unnecessary. And there are desires that are neither natural nor necessary.

D%A* I A&1 I &+* : Natural and ne!essary 9riends 9reedom *hought Babout main sources o# an<ietyA death" illness" poverty" superstitionC 9ood" shelter" clothes

:&*IA) 9+$ %APPI&:

&atural but Unnecessary ,rand house Private baths Ban=uets ervants

9ish" meat

Neither natural nor ne!essary 9ame Po'er Crucially #or those unable to ma!e or a#raid o# losing money" :picurus?s tripartite division suggested that happiness 'as dependent on some comple< psychological goods but relatively independent o# material ones" beyond the means re=uired to purchase some 'arm clothes" some'here to live and something to eat - a set o# priorities designed to provo!e thought in those 'ho had e=uated happiness 'ith the #ruition o# grand #inancial schemes" amd misery E'ith a modest income. *o plot the :picurean relation bet'een money and happiness on a graph" money?s capacity to deliver happiness is already present in small salaries and 'ill not rise 'ith the largest. De 'ill not cease being happy 'ith greater outlay" but 'e 'ill not" :picurus insisted" surpass levels o# happiness already available to those on a limited income. *he analysis depended on a particular understanding o# happiness. 9or :picurus" 'e are happy i# 'e are not in active pain. Because 'e su##er active pain i# 'e lac! nutrients and clothes" 'e must have enough money to buy them. But su##ering is too strong a 'ord to describe 'hat 'ill occur i# 'e are obliged to 'ear an ordinary cardigan rather than a cashmere one or to eat a sand'ich rather than sea scallops. %ence the argument thatA -lain dishes offer the same pleasure as a luxurious table, when the pain that comes from want is taken away. Dhether 'e regularly eat meals li!e the one on the right or li!e the one on the le#t cannot be the decisive #actor in our state o# mind.

As for eating meat, it relieves neither any of our nature's stress nor a desire whose non(satisfaction would give rise to pain . . . %hat it contributes to is not life's maintenance but variation of pleasures . . . like drinking of exotic wines, all of which our nature is quite capable of doing without. It may be tempting to attribute this disparagement o# lu<ury to the primitive range o# products available to the rich in the undeveloped economy o# %ellenistic ,reece. (et the argument may still be de#ended by pointing to an imbalance in the ratio o# price to happiness in products o# later ages. De 'ould not be happy 'ith the vehicle on the le#t but no #riendsG 'ith a villa but no #reedomG 'ith linen sheets but too much an<iety to sleep. o long as essential non-material needs are unattended" the line on the graph o# happiness 'ill remain stubbornly lo'. *o avoid ac=uiring 'hat 'e do not need or regretting 'hat 'e cannot a##ord" 'e should as! rigorously the moment 'e desire an e<pensive ob@ect 'hether 'e are ri it to do so. De should underta!e a series o# thought e<perime Gs in 'hich 'e imagine ourselves pro@ected in time to the moment 'hen our desires have been reali>ed" in order to gauge our li!ely degree o# happinessA #he following method of inquiry must be applied to every desire2 %hat will happen to me if what I long for is accomplished, %hat will happen if it is not accomplished, A method 'hich" though no e<amples o# it survive" must have #ollo'ed at least #ive steps - 'hich may 'ithout in@ustice be s!etched in the language o# an instruction manual or recipe boo!. 8. Identi#y a pro@ect #or happiness. In order to he happy on holiday, I must live in a villa.

;. Imagine that the pro@ect may be #alse. )oo! #or e<ceptions to the supposed lin! bet'een the desired ob@ect and happiness. Could one possess the desired ob@ect but not be happyI Could one be happy but not have the desired ob@ectI Could I spend money on a villa and still not be happy<

Could I be happy on holiday and not spend as much money as on a villa<

=. I# an e<ception is #ound" the desired ob@ect cannot be a necessary and su##icient cause o# happiness. It is possible to have a miserable time in a villa if, for example, I feel friendless and isolated. It is possible for me to be happy in a tent if, for example, I am with someone I love and feel appreciated by.

5. In order ro be accurate about producing happiness" the initial pro@ect r-iust be nuanced to ta!e the e<ception into account. In so far as I can be happy in an expensive villa 'his depends on being with someone I love and feel appreciated by. I can be happy without spending money on a. villa, as long as I am with someone I love and feel appreciated by.

-. *rue needs may no' seem very di##erent #rom the con#used initial desire. 4appiness depends more on the possession of a congenial companion than a well(decorated villa.

-. Dhy" then" i# e<pensive things cannot bring us remar!able @oy" are 'e so po'er#ully dra'n to themI Because o# an error similar to that o# the migraine su##erer 'ho drills a hole in the side o# his s!ullA because e<pensive ob@ects can #eel li!e plausible solutions to needs 'e don?t understand. +b@ects mimic in a material dimension

'hat 'e re=uire in a psychological one. De need to rearrange our minds but are lured to'ards ne' shelves. De buy a cashmere cardigan as a substitute #or the counsel o# #riends. De are not solely to blame #or our con#usions. +ur 'ea! understanding o# our needs is aggravated by 'hat :picurus termed the ?idle opinions? o# those around us" 'hich do not re#lect the natural hierarchy o# our needs" emphasi>ing lu<ury and riches" seldom #riendship" #reedom and thought. *he prevalence o# idle opinion is no coincidence. It is in the interests o# commercial enterprises ro s!e' the hierarchy o# our needs" to promote a material vision o# the good and do'nplay an unsaleable one. And the 'ay 'e are enticed is through the sly association o# super#luous ob@ects 'ith our other" #orgotten needs. It may be a @eep 'e end up buying" but it 'as - #or :picurus #reedom 'e 'ere loo!ing #or. It may be the aperiti# 'e purchase" but it 'as - #or :picurus #riendship 'e 'ere a#ter. It may be #ine bathing accoutrements 'e ac=uire" but it 'as - #or :picurus - thought that 'ould have brought us calm. *o counteract the po'er o# lu<urious images :picureans appreciated the importance o# advertising. In the A1 820s" in the central mar!et-place o# +inoanda" a to'n o# 80"000 inhabitants in the south-'estern corner o# Asia ;inor" an enormous stone colonnade 00 metres long and nearly 5 metres high 'as erected and inscribed 'ith :picurean slogans #or the attention o# shoppersA Luxurious foods and drinks ... in no way produce freedom from harm and a healthy condition in the flesh. One must regard wealth beyond what is natural as of no more i-'-se than water to a container that is full to overflowing. eal value is generated not by theatres and baths and perfumes and ointments . . . but by natural science. *he 'all had been paid #or by 1iogenes" one o#+inoanda?s 'ealthiest citi>ens" 'ho had sought" 500 years a#ter :picurus and his #riends had opened the ,arden in Athens" to share 'ith his #ello' inhabitants the secrets o# happiness he had discovered in :picurus?s

philosophy. As he e<plained on one comer o# the 'allA !aving already reached the sunset of my life "being almost on the verge of departure from the world on account of old age#, I wanted, before being overtaken by death, to compose a fine anthem to celebrate the fullness of pleasure and so to help now those who are well$constituted. %ow, if only one person, or two or three or four or five or six ... were in a bad predicament, I should address them individually . . . but as the ma&ority of people suffer from a common disease, as in a plague, with their false notions about things, and as their number is increasing "for in mutual emulation they catch the . disease from each other, like sheep# ... I wished to use this stoa to advertise publicly medicines that bring salvation. *he massive limestone 'all contained some 2-"000 'ords advertising all aspects o#:picurus?s thought" mentioning the importance o# #riendship and o# the analysis o# an<ieties. Inhabitants shopping in the bouti=ues o# +inoanda had been 'arned in detail that they could e<pect little happiness #rom the activity. Advertising 'ould not be so prevalent i# 'e 'ere not such suggestible creatures. De 'ant things 'hen they are beauti#ully presented on 'alls" and lose interest 'hen they are ignored or not 'ell spo!en o#. )ucretius lamented the 'ay in 'hich 'hat 'e 'ant is ?chosen by hearsay rather than by the evidence o# KourL o'n senses?. Un#ortunately" there is no shortage o# desirable images o# lu<urious products and costly surroundings" #e'er o# ordinary settings and individuals. De receive little encouragement to attend to modest grati#ications - playing 'ith a child" conversations 'ith a #riend" an a#ternoon in the sun" a clean house" cheese spread across #resh bread B? end me a pot o# cheese" so that I may have a #east 'henever I li!e?C. It is not these elements 'hich are celebrated in the pages o# :picurean )i#e. Art may help to correct the bias. )ucretius lent #orce to :picurus?s intellectual de#ence o# simplicity by helping us" in superlative )atin verse" to #eel the pleasures o# ine<pensive thingsA De #ind that the re=uirements o# our bodily nature are #e' indeed" no more than is necessary to banish pain" and also to spread out many pleasures #or ourselves. &ature does not periodically see!

anything more grati#ying than this" not complaining i# there are no golden images o# youths about the house 'ho are holding #laming torches in their right hands to illuminate ban=uet?s that go on long into the night. Dhat does it matter i# the hall doesn?t spar!le 'ith silver and gleam 'ith gold" and no carved and gilded ra#ters ring co ?ie music o# the luteI &ature doesn?t miss these lu<uries 'hen people can recline in company on the so#t grass by a running stream under the branches o# a tall tree and re#resh their bodies pleasurably at small e<pense. Better still i# the 'eather smiles on them" and the season o# the year stipples the green grass 'ith #lo'ers. :rgo corpoream ad naturam pauca videmus esse opus omn iGG o" =uae derneG n t cum=ue dolorem. delicias =uo=ue uti multas svbsternere possint gratius interdum" ne=ue natura ipsa re=uirit" si non aurea sunt iuvenum simulacra per aedes lampaiias igni#eras manibus retinentia de<tris" lumina noctumis epulis ut suppeditentur" nec domus argento #ulget auro=ue renidet

nec citharae reboant la=ueata aurata=ue templa" cum tamen inter seprostrati in gramine molli. propter a=uae nvum sub ram-is arboris altae non magnis opibus iucunde corpora curant" praescrtim cum tempestas adridei ct cinni tempora conspergunt viridantis #loribus herbas.

It is hard to measure the e##ect on commercial activity in the ,reco-$oman 'orld o# )ucretius?s poem. It is hard to !no' 'hether shoppers in +inoanda discovered 'hat they needed and ceased buying 'hat they didn?t because o# the giant advertisement in their midst. But it is possible that a 'ell-mounted :picurean advertising campaign 'ould have the po'er to precipitate global economic collapse. Because" #or :picurus" most businesses stimulate unnecessary desires in people 'ho #ail to understand their true needs" levels o# consumption 'ould be destroyed by greater sel#a'areness and appreciation o# simplicity. :picurus 'ould not have been perturbedA Q %hen measured by die natural purpose of life, poverty is great wealth. limitless wealth, great poverty. It points us to a choiceA on the one hand" societies 'hich stimulate unnecessary desires but achieve enormous economic strengths as a resultG and on the other" :picurean societies 'hich 'ould provide #or essential material needs but could never raise living standards beyond subsistence level. *here 'ould be no mighty monuments in an :picurean 'orld" no technological advances and little incen-

tive to trade 'ith distant continents. A society in 'hich people 'ere more limited in their needs 'ould also be one o# #e' resources. And yet U i# 'e are to believe the philosopher - such a society 'ould not be unhappy. )ucretius articulated the choice. In a 'orld 'ithout :picurean valuesA *ankind is perpetually the victim of a poindess and futile martyr( dom, fretting life away in fruitless worries through failure to realise what limit is set to acquisition and to the growth of genuine pleasure. But at the same timeA It is this discontent that has driven life steadily onward, out to the high seas ... De can imagine :picurus?s response. %o'ever impressive our ventures on to the high seas" the only 'ay to evaluate their merits is according to the pleasure they inspireA It is to pleasure that we have recourse, using the feeling as our standard for &udging every good. And because an increase in the 'ealth o# societies seems not to guarantee an increase in happiness" :picurus 'ould have suggested that the needs 'hich e<pensive goods cater to cannot be those on 'hich our happiness depends.

. %appiness" an ac=uisition list 8. A hut. 2. 9riends 7. *o avoid superiors" patroni>ation" in#ighting and competitionA 5. *hought.

-. A reincarnation o# ,iovanni Bellini?s ;adonna B#rom the ,alleria dell Accademia in SeniceC" 'hose melancholy e<pression 'ould belie a dry sense o# humour and spontaneity - and 'ho 'ould dress in manmade #ibres #rom the sales rac!s o# modest department stores. %appiness may be di##icult to attain. *he obstacles are not primarily #inancial.

III Consolation #or 9rustration *hirteen years be#ore painting the 1eath o# ocrates" 6ac=ues-)ouis 1avid attended to another ancient philosopher 'ho met his end 'ith e<traordinary calm" amidst the hysterical tears o# #riends and #amily. *he 1eath o# eneca" painted in 8337 by the t'enty-#ive-year-old 1avid" depicted rhe toic philosopher?s last moments in a villa outside $ome in April A1 .-. A centurion had arrived at the house a #e' hours be#ore 'ith instructions #rom the emperor that eneca should ta!e his o'n li#e #orth'ith. A conspiracy had been discovered to remove the t'enty-eight-year-old &ero #rom the throneG and the emperor" maniacal and unbridled" 'as see!ing indiscriminate revenge. *hough there 'as no evidence to lin! eneca to the conspiracy" though he had 'or!ed as the imperial tutor #or #ive years and as a loyal aide #or a decade" &ero ordered the death #or good measure. %e had by this point already murdered his hal#brother Britannicus" his mother Agrippina and his 'i#e +ctaviaG he had disposed o# a large number o# senators and e=uestrians by #eeding them to crocodiles and lionsG and he had sung 'hile $ome bumed to the ground in the great #ire o# .5. Dhen they learned o# &ero?s command" eneca?s companions blanched and began to 'eep" but the philosopher" in the account provided by *acitus and read by 1avid" remained unperturbed" and strived to chec! their tears and revive their courageA

Dhere had their philosophy gone" he as!ed" and that resolution against impending mis#ortunes 'hich they had encouraged in each other over so many yearsI ? urely nobody 'as una'are that &ero 'as cruelJ? he added" ?A#ter murdering his mother and brother" it only remained #or him to !ill his teacher and tutor?. %e turned to his 'i#e Paulina" embraced her tenderly B?very di##erent #rom his philosophical imperturbability? U- *acitusC and as!ed her to ta!e consolation in his 'ell-spent li#e. But she could not countenance an e<istence 'ithout him" and as!ed to be allo'ed to cut her veins 'ith him. eneca did not deny her 'ishA I will not grudge your setting so fine an example. %e can die with equal fortitude, though yours will be the nobler end. But because the emperor had no desire to increase his reputation #or cruelty" 'hen his guards noticed that Paulina had ta!en a !ni#e to her veins" they sei>ed it against her 'ill and bandaged up her 'rists. %er husband?s suicide began to #alter. Blood did not #lo' #ast enough #rom his aged body" even a#ter he had cut the veins in his an!les and behind his !nees. o in a sel#-conscious echo o# the death in Athens 5.5 years previously" E eneca-as!ed his doctor to prepare a cup o# hemloc!. %e had long considered ocrates the e<emplar o# ho' one might" through philosophy" rise above e<ternal circumstance Band in a letter 'ritten a #e' years be#ore &ero?s command" had e<plained his admirationCA Q %e 'as much tried at home" 'hether 'e thin! o# his 'i#e" a 'oman o# rough manners and shre'ish tongue" or o# the children ... %e lived either in time o# 'ar or under tyrants . . . but all these measures changed the soul o# ocrates so little that they did not even change his #eatures. Dhat 'onder#ul and rare distinctionJ %e maintained this attitude up to the very end . . . amid all the disturbances o# 9ortune" he 'as undisturbed. But eneca?s desire to #ollo' the Athenian 'as in vain. %e dran! the hemloc! and it had no e##ect. A#ter t'o #ruitless attempts" he #inally as!ed to be placed in a vapour-bath" 'here he su##ocated to death slo'ly" in torment but 'ith e=uanimity" undisturbed by the disturbances o# 9ortune. 1avid?s rococo version o# the scene 'as not the #irst" nor the #inest. eneca appeared more li!e a reclining pasha than a dying philosopher. Paulina" thrusting her bared right breast #or'ard" 'as dressed #or grand opera rather than Imperial $ome. (et 1avid?s rendering

o# the moment #itted" ho'ever clumsily" into a lengthy history o# admiration #or the manner in 'hich the $oman endured his appalling #ate. *hough his 'ishes had come into sudden" e<treme con#lict 'ith reality" eneca had not succumbed to ordinary #railtiesG reality?s shoc!ing demands had been met 'ith dignity. *hrough his death" eneca had helped to create an enduring association" together 'ith other toic thin!ers" bet'een the very 'ord ?philosophical? and a temperate" sel#-possessed approach to disaster. %e had #rom the #irst conceived o# philosophy as a discipline to assist human beings in overcoming con#licts bet'een their 'ishes and reality. As *acitus had reported" eneca?s response to his 'eeping companions had been to as!" as though the t'o 'ere essentially one" 'here their philosophy had gone" and 'here their resolution against impending mis#ortunes. *hroughout his li#e" eneca had #aced and 'itnessed around him e<ceptional disasters. :arth=ua!es had shattered PompeiiG $ome and )ugdunum had burnt to the groundG the people o# $ome and her empire had been sub@ected to &ero" and be#ore him Caligula" or as uetonius more accurately termed him" ?the ;onster?" 'ho had ?on one occasion . .. cried angrily" EI 'ish all you $omans had only one nec!JE ? eneca had su##ered personal losses" too. %e had trained #or a career in politics" but in his early t'enties had succumbed to suspected tuberculosis" 'hich had lasted si< years and led to suicidal depression. %is late entry into politics had coincided 'ith Caligula?s rise to po'er. :ven a#ter the ;onster?s murder in 58" his position had been precarious. A plot by the :mpress ;essalina had" through no #ault o# eneca?s" resulted in his disgrace and eight years o# e<ile on the island o# Corsica. Dhen he had #inally been recalled to $ome" it had been to ta!e on against his 'ill the most #ate#ul @ob in the imperial administration - tutor to Agrippina?s t'elve-yearold son" )ucius 1omitius Ahenobarbus" 'ho 'ould #i#teen years later order him to !ill himsel# in #ront o# his 'i#e and #amily. eneca !ne' 'hy he had been able to 'ithstand the an<ietiesA I o'e my li#e to KphilosophyL" and that is the lease o# my obligations to it. %is e<periences had taught him a comprehensive dictionary o# #rustration" his intellect a series o# responses to them. (ears o# philosophy had prepared him #or the catastrophic day &ero?s cen-

turion had struc! at the villa door.

2 A eneom dictionary o# #rustration Introduction *hough the terrain o# #rustration may be vast - #rom a stubbed toe to an untimely death - at the heart o# every #rustration lies a basic structureA the collision o# a 'ish 'ith an unyielding reality. *he collisions begin in earliest in#ancy" 'ith. the discovery that the sources o# our satis#action lie beyoiyi our control and that the 'orld does not reliably con#orm Ao our desires. And yet" #or eneca" in so #ar as 'e can ever attain 'isdom" it is by learning not to aggravate the 'orld?s obstinacy through our o'n responses" through spasms o# rage" sel#-pity" an<iety" bitterness" sel#-righteousness and paranoia. A single idea recurs throughout his 'or!G that 'e best endure those #rustrations 'hich 'e have prepared ourselves #or and understand and are hurt most by those 'e least e<pected and cannot #athom. Philosophy must reconcile us to the true dimensions o# reality" and so spare us" i# not #rustration itsel#" then at least its panoply o# pernicious accompanying emotions. %er tas! is to prepare #or our 'ishes the so#test landing possible on the adamantine 'all o# reality. *he Consolations o# Philosophy Anger *he ultimate in#antile collision. SQ? cannot #ind the remote control or the !eys" the road is bloc!ed" the re.G s?'ant #ull - and so -'e slam doors" deracinate plants and ho'l.

8. *he philosophy held it to be a !ind o# madnessA #here is no swifter way to insanity. *any 6angry people7 . . . call down death on their children, poverty on themselves, ruin on their home, denying that they are angry, &ust as the mad deny their insanity. "nemies to their closest I. tends . .. heedless of the law . . . they do everything by force . . , #he greatest of ills has sei ed them, one that surpasses all other vices. 2. In calmer moments" the angry may apologi>e and e<plain that they 'ere over'helmed by a po'er stronger than themselves" that is" stronger than their reason. *hey?" their rational selves" did not mean the insults and regret the shoutingG ?theyR lost control to dar!er #orces 'ithin. *he angry hereby appeal to a predominant vie' o# the mind in 'hich the reasoning #aculty" the seat o# the true sel#" is depicted as occasionally assaulted by passionate #eelings 'hich reason neither identi#ies 'ith nor can be held responsible #or. *his account runs directly counter to eneca?s vie' o# the mind" according to 'hich anger results not #rom an uncontrollable eruption o# the passions" but #rom a basic Band correctableC error o# reasoning. $eason does not al'ays govern our actions" he concededA i# 'e are sprin!led 'ith cold 'ater" our body gives us no choice but to shiverG i# ringers are nic!ed over our eyes" 'e have to blin!. But anger does not belong in the category o# involuntary physical movement" it can only brea! out on the bac! o# certain rationally held ideasG i# 'e can only change the ideas" 'e 'ill change our propensity to anger. 7. And in the enecan vie' 'hat ma!es us angry are dangerously optimistic notions about 'hat the 'orld and other people are li!e. 5. %o' badly 'e react to #rustration is critically determined by 'hat 'e thin! o# as normal. De may be #rustrated that it is raining" but our #amiliarity 'ith sho'ers means 'e are unli!ely ever to respond to one 'ith anger. +ur #rustrations are tempered by 'hat 'e understand 'e can e<pect #rom the 'orld" by our e<perience o# 'hat it is normal to hope #or. De aren?t over'helmed by anger 'henever 'e are denied an ob@ect 'e desire" only 'hen 'e believe ourselves entitled to obtain it. +ur greatest #uries spring #rom events 'hich violate our sense o# me ground rules o# e<istence. -. Dith money" one could have e<pected to lead a very com#ort-

able li#e in Ancient $ome. ;any o# eneca?s #riends had large houses in the capital and villas in the countryside. *here 'ere baths" colonnaded gardens" #ountains" mosaics" #rescos and gilded couches. *here 'ere retinues o# slaves to prepare the #ood" loo! a#ter the children and tend #bi garden. .. &evertheless" there seemed an unusual level o# rage among the privileged. ?Prosperity #osters bad tempers"? 'rote eneca" a#ter observing his 'ealthy #riends ranting around him because li#e had not turned out as they had hoped. eneca !ne' o# a 'ealthy man" Sedius Pollio" a #riend o# the :mperor Augustus" 'hose slave once dropped a tray o# crystal glasses during a party. Sedius hated the sound o# brea!ing glass and gre' so #urious that he ordered the slave to be thro'n into a pool o# lampreys. 3. uch rages are never beyond e<planation. Sedius Pollio 'as angry #or an identi#iable reasonA because he believed in a 'orld in 'hich glasses do not get bro!en at parties. De shout 'hen 'e canPt #ind the remote control because o# an implicit belie# in a 'orld in 'hich remote controls do not get mislaid. $age is caused by a conviction" almost comic in its optimistic origins Bho'ever tragic in its e##ectsC" that a given #rustration has not been 'ritten into the contract o# li#e. 0. De should be more care#ul. eneca tried to ad@ust the scale o# our e<pectations so that 'e 'ould not bello' so loudly 'hen these 'ere dashedA %hen dinner comes a few minutes late2 %hat need is there to kick the table over, #o smash the goblets, #o bang yourself against columns, %hen there's a bu ing sound2 %hy should a fly infuriate you which no one has taken enough trouble to drive off, or a dog which gets in your way, or a key dropped by a careless servant, %hen something disturbs the calm of the dining room. %hy go and fetch the whip in the middle of dinner, &ust because the slaves are talking, De must reconcile ourselves to the necessary imper#ectibility o# e<istenceIs it surprising that the wicked should do wicked deeds, or unprecedented that your enemy should harm or your friend

annoy you, that your son should fall into error or your servant misbehave, De 'ill cease to be so angry once 'e cease to be so hope#ul.

hoc! An aeroplane belonging to the Swiss national airline, carrying ;;> people, takes off on a scheduled flight from 0ew /ork to $eneva. ?ifty minutes out of @ennedy Airport, as the stewardesses roll their trolleys down the aisles of the *c1onald 1ouglas *1(ii, the captain reports smoke in the cockpit. #en minutes later, the plane disappears off the radar. #he gigantic machine, each of its wings A; metres long, crashes into the placid seas off 4alifax, 0ova Scotia, killing all on board. !escue workers speak of the difficulty of identifying what were, only hours before, humans with lives and plans. +riefcases are found floating in the sea. 8. I# 'e do not d'ell on the ris! o# sudden disaster and pay a price #or our innocence" 88 is because reality comprises t'o cruelly con#using characteristicsA on the one hand" continuity and relui bility lasting across generationsG on the other" unheralded cataclysms. De #ind ourselves divided bet'een a plausible invitation to assume that tomorro' 'ill be much li!e today and the possibility that 'e 'ill mcci 'ith an appalling event a#ter 'hich nothing 'ill ever be the same again. It is because 'e have such po'er#ul incentives to neglect Bhe latter that eneca invo!ed a goddess. 2. he 'as to be #ound on the bac! o# many $oman coins" holding a cornucopia in one hand and a rudder in the other. he 'as beauti#ul and usually 'ore a light tunic and a coy smile. %er name 'as 9ortune. he had originated as a #ertility goddess" the #irstborn o# 6upiter" and 'as honoured 'ith a #estival on the 2-th o# ;ay and 'ith temples throughout Italy" visited by the barren and #armers in search o# rain. But gradually her remit had 'idened" she had become associated 'ith money" advance-

ment" love and health. *he cornucopia 'as a symbol o# her po'er to besto' #avours" the rudder a symbol other more sinister po'er to change destinies. he could scatter gi#ts" then 'ith terri#ying speed shi#t the rudder?s course" maintaining an imperturbable smile as she 'atched us cho!e to death on a #ishbone or disappear in a landslide. 7. Because 'e are in@ured most by 'hat 'e do not e<pect" and because 'e musr e<pect everything B*here is nothing 'hich 9ortune does not dare?C" 'e must" proposed eneca" hold the possibility V# disaster in mind at all times. &o one should underta!e a @ourney by car" or 'al! do'n the stairs" or say goodbye to a #riend" 'ithout an a'areness" 'hich eneca 'ould have 'ished to be neither gruesome nor unnecessarily dramatic" o# #atal possibilities. &othing ought to be une<pected by us. +ur minds should he sent #or'ard in advance to meet all the problems" and -'e should consider" not 'hat is 'ont to happen" but 'hat can happen. 5. 9or evidence o# ho' little is needed #or all to come to nought" 'e have only to hold up our 'rists and study #or a moment the pulses o# blood through our #ragile" greenish veinsA %hat is man, A vessel that the slightest shaking, the slightest toss will break ... A body weak and fragile, naked, in its natural state defenceless, dependent upon another's help and exposed to all the affronts of ?ortune. -. )ugdunum had been one o# the most prosperous $oman settlements in ,aul. At the @unction o# the Arar and $hone rivers" it rn@oyed a privileged position as a crossroads o# trade and miliary routes. *he city contained elegant baths and theatres and a government mint. *hen in August .5 a spar! slipped out o# nand and gre' into a #ire that spread through the narro' streets" terri#ied inhabitants levering themselves #rom 'indo's at its approach. 9lames lic!ed #rom house to house and by the time the sun had risen the 'hole o# )ugdunum" #rom suburb to mar!et" #rom temple to baths" had burnt to cinders. *he survivors 'ere le#t destitute in only the soot-covered clothes they tood in" their noble buildings roasted beyond recognition. *he bla>e 'as so rapid" it too! longer #or ne's o# the disaster to reach $ome than #or the city to bumA (ou sayA ?I did not thin! it 'ould happen.? 1o you thin! there is anything that 'ill not happen" 'hen you !no' that it is possible

to happen" 'hen you see that it has already happened ...I .. +n the #i#th o# 9ebruary .2" similar disaster struc! the province o# Campania. *he earth trembled" and large sections o#Pompen collapsed. In the months that #ollo'ed" many inhabitants decided to leave Campania #or other pans o# the peninsula. *heir move suggested to eneca that they believed there 'as some'here on earth" in )iguria or Calabria" 'here they might be 'holly sa#e" out o# reach o# 9ortune?s 'ill. *o 'hich he replied 'ith an argument" persuasive in spite o# its geological dubiousnessA %ho promises them better foundations for this or that soil to stand on, All places have the same conditions and if they have not yet had an earthquake, they can none the less have quakes. -erhaps tonight or before tonight, today will split open the spot where you stand securely. 4ow do you know whether conditions will henceforth be better in those places against which ?ortune has already exhausted her strength or in those places which are supported on their own ruins, %e are mistaken if we believe any part of the world is exempt and safe ... 0ature has not created anything in such a way that it is immobile. 3. At the time o# Caligula?s accession to the throne" a'ay #rom high politics in a household in $ome" a mother lost her son. ;etilius had been short o# his t'enty-#i#th birthday and a young man o# e<ceptional promise. %e had been close to his mother ;arcia" and his death devastated her. he 'ithdre' #rom social li#e and san! into mourning. %er #riends 'atched 'ith compassion and hoped #or a day 'hen she 'ould regain a measure o# composure. he didn?t. A year passed" then another and a third" and still ;arcia came no closer to overcoming her grie#. A#ter three years she 'as as tear#ul as she had been on the very day o# his #uneral. eneca sent her a letter. %e e<pressed enormous sympathies" but gently continued" ?the =uestion at issue bet'een us KisL 'hether grie# ought to be deep or neverending.? ;arcia 'as rebelling against 'hat seemed li!e an occurrence at once dread#ul and rare - and all the more dread#ul because it 'as rare. Around her 'ere mothers 'ho still had their sons" young men beginning their careers" serving in the army or entering politics. Dhy had hers been ta!en #rom herI

0. *he death 'as unusual and terrible" but it 'as not - eneca ventured - abnormal. I# ;arcia loo!ed beyond a restricted circle" she 'ould come upon a 'oe#ully long list o# sons 'hom 9ortune had !illed. +ctavia had lost her son" )ivia her son" Cornelia hersG so had Fenophon" Paulus" )ucius Bibulus" )ucius ulla" Augustus and cipio. By averting her ga>e #rom early deaths" ;arcia had" understandably but perilously" denied them a place in her conception o# the normalA %e never anticipate evils before they actually arrive ... So many funerals pass our doors, yet we never dwell on death. So many deaths are untimely, yet we make plans for our own infants2 how they will don the toga, serve in the army, and succeed to their father's property. *he children might live" but ho' ingenuous to believe that they 'ere guaranteed to survive to maturity - even to dinner-timeA 0o promise has been given you for this night B no, I have suggested too long a respite ( no promise has been given even for this how2 *here is dangerous innocence in the e<pectation o# a #uture #ormed on the basis o# probability. Any accident to 'hich a human has been sub@ect" ho'ever rare" ho'ever distant in time" is a possibility 'e must ready ourselves #or. 4. Because 9ortune?s long benevolent periods ris! seducing us into somnolence" eneca entreated us to spare a little time each day to thin! other. De do not !no' 'hat 'ill happen ne<tA 'e must e<pect something. In the early morning" 'e should underta!e 'hat eneca termed a pmemeditatio" a meditation in advance" on all the sorro's o# mind and body to 'hich the goddess may subse=uently sub@ect us.

A :&:CA& P$A:;:1I*A*I+

6#he wise7 will start each day with the thought. . . ?ortune gives us nothing which we can really own. 0othing, whether public or private, is stable2 the destinies of men, no less than those of cities, are in a whirl. %hatever structure has been reared by a long sequence of years, at the cost of great toil and through the grear C ' idness of the gods, is scattered and dispersed in a single day. 0o, he who has said 'a day' has granted too long a postponement ro swift misfortune. an hour, an instant of time, suffices for the overthrow of empires. 4ow often have cities in Asia, how often in Achaia, been laid low by a single shock of earthquake, 4ow many towns in Syria, how many in *acedonia, have been swallowed up, 4ow often has this kind of devastation laid Cyprus in ruins, %e live in the middle of things which have all been destined to die. *ortal have you been born, to mortals have you given birth. !eckon on everything, expect everything.

80. *he same could naturally have been conveyed in other 'ays. In more sober philosophical language" one could say that a sub@ect?s agency is only one o# the causal #actors determining events in the course o# his or her li#e. eneca resorted instead to continual hyperboleA Dhenever anyone #alls at your side or behind you" cry outA '?ortune, you will not deceive me, you will not fall upon me confident and heedless. I know what you are planning. It is true that you struck someone else, but you aimed at me' B*he original ends 'ith a #inal" more rousing alliterationA Vuotiens ali=uis ad latus aut pone tergum ceciderit" e<clamaA R&on decipies me" #ortuna" nec securum aut neglegentem opprimes. cio =uid paresG alium =uidem percussisti" sed me petisti.?C

88. I# most philosophers #eel no need to 'rite li!e this" it is because they trust that" so long as an argument is logical" the style in

'hich it is presented to the reader 'ill not determine its e##ectiveness. eneca believed in a di##erent picture o# the mindArguments are li!e eelsA ho'ever logical" they may slip #rom the mind?s 'ea! grasp unless #i<ed there by imagery and style. De need metaphors to derive a sense o# 'hat cannot be seen or touched" or else 'e 'ill #orget. *he goddess o# 9ortune" in spite o# her unphilosophical" religious roots" 'as the per#ect image to !eep our e<posure to accident continually 'ithin our minds" con#lating a range o# threats to our security into one ghastly anthropomorphic enemy.

ense o# in@ustice A #eeling that the rules o# @ustice have been violated" ndes 'hich dictate that i# 'e are honourable" 'e 'ill be re'arded" and that i# 'e are bad" 'e 'ill be punished - a sense o# @ustice inculcated in the earliest education o# children" and #ound in most religious te<ts" #or e<ample" in the boo! o# 1euteronomy" 'hich e<plains that the godly person ?shall be li!e a tree planted by the rivers o#'ater . . . and 'hatsoever he doeth shall prosper. *he ungodly are not soA but arc li!e cha## 'hich the 'ind driveth a'ay.? ,oodness/W $e'ard :vil /W Punishment In cases where one acts correctly but still suffers disaster, one is left bewil( dered and unable to fit the event into a scheme of &ustice. #he world seems absurd. 8ne alternates between a feeling that one may after all have been bad and this is why one was punished, and the feeling that one truly was not bad and therefore must have fallen victim to a catastrophic failure in the administration of &ustice. #he continuing belief that the world is fun( damentally &ust is implied in the very complaint that there has been an in&ustice. 8. 6ustice 'as not an ideology that had helped ;arcia.

2. It had #orced her to oscillate bet'een a debilitating #eeling that her son ;etilius had been ta!en a'ay #rom her because she 'as bad" and at other moments" a #eeling o# outrage 'ith the 'orld that ;etilius had died given that she had al'ays been essentially good. 7. But 'e cannot al'ays e<plain our destiny by re#erring to our moral 'orthG 'e may be cursed and blessed 'ithout @ustice behind either. &ot everything 'hich happens to us occurs 'ith re#erence to something about us. ;etilius hadn?t died because his mother 'as bad" nor 'as the 'orld un#air because his mother 'as good and yet he had died. %is death 'as" in eneca?s image" the 'or! o# 9ortune" and the goddess 'as no moral @udge. he did not evaluate her victims li!e the god o# 1euteronomy and re'ard them according to merit. he in#licted harm 'ith the moral blindness o# a hurricane. 5. eneca !ne' in himsel# the sapping impulse to interpret #ailures according to a misguided model o# @ustice. Upon the accession o# Claudius in early 58" he became a pa'n in a plan by the :mpress ;essalina to rid hersel# o# Caligula?s sister" 6ulia )ivilla. *he empress accused 6ulia o# having an adulterous a##air and #alsely named eneca as her lover. %e 'as in >n instant stripped o# #amily" money" #riends" reputation and his political career" and sent into e<ile on the island o# Corsica" one o# the most desolate parts o# $ome?s vast empire. %e 'ould have endured periods o# sel#-blame alternating 'ith #eelings o# bitterness. %e 'ould have reproached himsel# #or misreading the political situation 'ith regard to ;essalina" and resented the 'ay his loyalty and talents had been re'arded by Claudius. Both moods 'ere based on a picture o# a moral universe 'here e<ternal circumstances re#lected internal =ualities. It 'as a relie# #rom this punitive schema to remember 9ortuneA I do not allow 6?ortune7 to pass sentence upon myself. eneca?s political #ailure did not have to be read as retribution #or sins" it 'as no rational punishment meted out a#ter e<amination o# the evidence by an all-seeing Providence in a divine courtroomG it 'as a cruel but morally meaningless by-product

o# the machinations o# a rancorous :mpress. eneca 'as not only distancing himsel# #rom disgrace. *he imperial o##icial he had been had not deserved all the credit #or his status either. *he interventions o# 9ortune" 'hether !indly or diabolical" introduced a random element into human destinies.

An<iety A condition of agitation about an uncertain situation which one both wishes will turn out for the best and. fears may turn out for the (worst. #ypically leaves sufferers unable to derive en&oyment from supposedly pleasurable activities, cultural, sexual or social. "ven in sublime settings the anxious will remain preoccupied by private anticipations ofru n and may prefer to be left alone in a roam.

8. *he traditional #orm o# com#ort is reassurance. +ne e<plains to the an<ious that their #ears are e<aggerated and that events are sure to un#old in a desired direction. 2. But reassurance can be the cruellest antidote to an<iety. +ur rosy predictions both leave the an<ious unprepared #or the 'orst" and un'ittingly imply that it 'ould be disastrous i# the 'orst came to pass. eneca more 'isely as!s us to consider that bad things probably 'ill occur" but adds thai they are unli!ely ever to be as bad as 'e #ear. 7. In 9ebruary .7" eneca?s #riend )ucilius" a civil servant 'or!ing in icily" learned o# a la'suit against him 'hich threatened to end his career and disgrace his name #or ever. %e 'rote to eneca. (ou may e<pect that I 'ill advise you to picture a happy outcome" and to rest in the allurements o# hope.? replied the philosopher" but ?I am going to conduct you to peace o# mind through another route? - 'hich culminated in the adviceA

If you wish to put off all worry, assume that what you fear may happen is certainly going to happen. eneca 'agered that once 'e loo! rationally at 'hat 'ill occur i# our desires are not #ul#illed" 'e 'ill almost certainly #ind that the underlying problems are more modest than the an<ieties they have bred. )ucilius had grounds #or sadness but not hysteriaA If you lose this case, can anything more severe happen to you than being sent into exile or led to prison, ... 'I may become a poor man'. I shall then be one among many. 'I may be exiled'. I shall then regard myself as though I had been bom in the place to which I'll be sent. #hey may put me in chains, %hat then, Am I free from bonds now, Prison and e<ile 'ere bad" but - the linchpin o# the argument not as bad as the desperate )ucilius might have #eared be#ore scrutini>ing the an<iety. 5. It #ollo's that 'ealthy individuals #earing the loss o# their #ortune should never be reassured 'ith remar!s about the improbability o# their ruin. *hey should spend a #e' days in a draughty room on a diet o# thin soup and stale bread. eneca had ta!en the counsel #rom one o# his #avourite philosophersA #he great hedonist teacher "picurus used to observe certain periods during which he would be niggardly in satisfying hunger, with the ob&ect of seeing . . . whether it was worth going to much trouble to make the deficit good. *he 'ealthy 'ould" eneca promised" soon come to an important reali>ationA ?Is this really the condition that I #earedI? . . . :ndure Kthis povertyL #or three or #our days at a time" sometimes #or more . . . and I assure you . .. you 'ill understand that a man?s peace o# mind does not depend upon 9ortune.

-. ;any $omans #ound it surprising" even ridiculous" to discover that the philosopher pro##ering such advice lived in considerable lu<ury himsel#. By his early #orties" eneca had accumulated enough money through his political career to ac=uire villas and #arms. %e ate 'ell" and developed a love o# e<pensive #urniture"

in particular" citrus-'ood tables 'ith ivory legs. %e resented suggestions that there 'as something unphilosophical in his behaviourA Stop preventing philosophers from possessing money. no one has condemned wisdom to poverty. And 'ith touching pragmatismA I will despise whatever lies in the domain of ?ortune, but if a choice is offered, I will choose the better half.

.. It 'asn?t hypocrisy. toicism does not recommend povertyG it recommends that 'e neither #ear nor despise it. It considers 'ealth to be" in the technical #ormulation" a productum" a pre#erred thing - neither an essential one nor a crime. toics may live 'ith as many gi#ts o# 9ortune as the #oolish. *heir houses can be as grand" their #urniture as beauti#ul. *hey are identi#ied as 'ise by only one detailA ho' they 'ould respond to sudden poverty. *hey 'ould 'al! a'ay #rom the house and the servants 'ithout rage or despair. 3. *he idea that a 'ise person should be able to 'al! a'ay #rom all 9ortune?s gi#ts calmly 'as toicism?s most e<treme" peculiar claim" given that 9ortune grants us not only houses and money but also our #riends" our #amily" even our bodiesA #he wise man can lose nothing. 4e has everything invested in himself. #he wise man is self(sufficient ... if he loses a hand through disease or war, or if some accident puts out one or both of his eyes, he will be satisfied with what is left. Dhich sounds absurd" unless 'e re#ine our notion o# 'hat eneca meant by ?satis#ied?. De should not be happy to lose an eye" but li#e 'ould be possible even i# 'e did so. *he right number o# eyes and hands is a productum. *'o e<amples o# the positionA #he wise man will not despise himself even if he has the stature of a dwarf, but he nevertheless wishes to be tall. #he wise man is self(sufficient in that he can do without friends,

not that he desires to do without them.

0. eneca?s 'isdom 'as more than theoretical. :<iled to Corsica" he #ound himsel# abruptly stripped o# all lu<uries. *he island had been a $oman possession since 270 BC" but it had not en@oyed the bene#its o# civili>ation. *he #e' $omans on the island rarely settled outside t'o colonies on the east coast" Aleria and ;ariana" and it 'as unli!ely that eneca 'as allo'ed to inhabit them" #or he complained o# hearing only ?barbaric speech? around him" and 'as associated 'ith a #orbidding building near )uri at the northern tip o# the island !no'n since ancient times as ? eneca?s *o'er?. Conditions must have contrasted pain#ully 'ith li#e in $ome. But in a letter to his mother" the #ormer 'ealthy statesman e<plained that he had managed ro accommodate himsel# to his circumstances" than!s to years o# morning premeditations and periods o# thin soupA 0ever did I trust ?ortune, even when she seemed to be offering peace. All those blessings which she kindly bestowed on me ( money, public office, influence ( I relegated to a place from which she could take them back without disturbing me. +etween them me, I have kept a wide gap, and so she has merely taken them, not torn them from me.

9eelings o# being moc!ed by

BiC inanimate ob@ects A sense that one's wishes are being purposefully frustrated by a pencil which drops off a table or a drawer that refuses to open. #he frustration caused by the inanimate ob&ect is compounded by a sense that it holds one in contempt. It is acting in a frustrating way m order to signal thai ii does not share the view of one's intelligence or status to which one is attached

and to which others subscribe.

BiiC animate ob@ects A similarly acute pain arising from the impression that other people are silently ridiculing one's character. 8n arrival at a hotel in Sweden I am accompanied to my room by an employee who offers to carry my luggage. 'It will be far too heavy for a man like you,' he smiles, emphasi ing 'man' to imply its opposite. 4e has 0ordic blond hair Cperhaps a skier, a hunter of elk. in past centimes, a warriorD and a determined expression. '*onsieur will en&oy the room,' he says. It is unclear why he has called me '*onsieur', knowing that I have come from )ondon, and the use of 'will' smacks of an order. #he sugges( tion becomes plainly incongruous, and evidence of conspiracy, when the room turns out to suffer from traffic noise, a faulty shower and a broken television. In otherwise shy, quiet people, feelings of being slyly mocked may boil over into sudden shouting and acts of cruelty ( even murder.

8. It is tempting" 'hen 'e are hurt" to believe that the thing 'hich hurt us intended to do so. It is tempting to move #rom a sentence 'ith clauses connected by ?and? to one 'ith clauses connected by ?in order to?G to move #rom thin!ing that *he pencil #ell o## the table and no' I am annoyed? to the vie' that ?*he pencil #ell o## the table in order to annoy me.

2. eneca collected e<amples o# such #eelings o# persecution by inanimate ob@ects. %erodotus?s %istories provided one. Cyrus" the !ing o# Persia and the #ounder o# its great empire" o'ned a beauti#ul 'hite horse 'hich he al'ays rode into battle. In the spring o# -74 BC Ming Cyrus declared 'ar on the Assyrians in hope o# e<panding his territory" and set o## 'ith a large army #or their capital" Babylon" on the ban!s o# the :uphrates river. *he march 'ent 'ell" until the army reached the river ,yndes" 'hich #lo'ed do'n #rom the ;arienian mountains into the *igris. *he ,yndes 'as !no'n to be perilous even in the summer" and at this time o# year 'as bro'n and #oaming" s'ollen 'ith the 'inter rains. *he !ing?s generals counselled delay" but

Cyrus 'as not daunted and gave orders #or an immediate cross ing. (et as the boats 'ere being readied" Cyrus?s horse slipped a'ay unnoticed and attempted to s'im across the river. *he current sei>ed the beast" toppled it and s'ept it do'nstream to its death. Cyrus 'as livid. *he river had dared to ma!e a'ay 'ith his sacred 'hite horse" the horse o# the 'arrior 'ho had ground Croesus into the dust and terri#ied the ,ree!s. %e screamed and cursed" and at the height o# his #ury decided to pay bac! the ,yndes #or its insolence. %e vo'ed 80 punish the river by ma!ing it so 'ea! that a 'oman 'ould in #uture be able to cross it 'ithout so much as 'etting her !nees. etting aside plans #or the e<pansion o# his empire" Cyrus divided his army into t'o parts" mar!ed out 800 small canals running o## #rom each ban! o# the river in various directions and ordered his men to start digging" 'hich they did #or an entire summer" their morale bro!en" all hope o# a =uic! de#eat o# the Assyrians gone. And 'hen they 'ere #inished" the once-rapid ,yndes 'as. split into 7.0 separate channels through 'hich 'ater #lo'ed so languidly that astonished local 'omen could indeed 'ander across the tric!ling stream 'ithout hoisting their s!irts. %is anger assuaged" the Ming o# Persia instructed his e<hausted army to resume the march to Babylon.

7. eneca collected similar e<amples o# #eelings o# persecution at the hands o# animate ob@ects. +ne concerned the $oman governor o# yria" ,naeus Piso" a brave general but a troubled soul. Dhen a soldier returned #rom a period o# leave 'ithout the #riend he had set out 'ith and claimed to have no idea 'here he had gone" Piso @udged that the soldier 'as lyingG he had !illed his #riend" and 'ould have to pay 'ith his li#e. *he condemned man s'ore he hadn?t murdered anyone and begged #or time #or an in=uiry to be made" but Piso !ne' better and had the soldier escorted to his death 'ithout delay. %o'ever" as the centurion in charge 'as preparing to cut o## the soldier?s head" the missing companion arrived at the gates o# the camp. *he army bro!e into spontaneous applause and the relieved centurion called o## the e<ecution. Piso too! the ne's less 'ell. %earing the cheers" he #elt them

to be moc!ing his @udgement. %e gre' red and angry" so angry that he summoned his guards and ordered both men to be e<eE cuted" the soldier 'ho hadn?t committed murder and the one 'ho hadn?t been murdered. And because he 'as by this point #eeling very persecuted" Piso also sent the centurion o## to his death #or good measure. 5. *he governor o# yria had at once interpreted the applause o# his soldiers as a 'ish to undermine his authority and to =uestion his @udgement. Cyrus had at once interpreted the river?sE manslaughter o# his horse as murder. eneca had an e<planation #or such errors o# @udgementG it lay 'ith ?a certain ab@ecmess o# spirit? in men li!e Cyrus and Piso. Behind their readiness to anticipate insult lay a #ear o# deserving ridicule. Dhen 'e suspect that 'e are appropriate targets #or hurt" it does not ta!e much #or us to believe that someone or something is out to hurt usA 'So and so did not give me an audience today, though he gave it to others'. 'he haughtily repulsed or openly laughed at my conversation'. he did not give me the sccic of honour, but placed me at the foot of the table.' *here may be innocent grounds. %e didn?t give me an audience today" because he 'ould pre#er to see me ne<t 'ee!. It seemed li!e he 'as laughing at me" but it 'as a #acial tic. *hese are not the #irst e<planations to come into our minds 'hen 'e are ab@ect o# spirit. -. o 'e must endeavour to surround our initial impressions 'ith a #ireguard and re#use to act at once on their precepts. De must as! ourselves i# someone 'ho has not ans'ered a letter is necessarily being tardy to annov us" and i# the missing !eys have necessarily been stolenA K*he 'ise doL not put a 'rong construction upon everything.

.. And the reason 'hy they are able not to 'as indirectly e<plained by eneca in a letter to )ucilius" the day he came upon a sentence in one o# the 'or!s o# the philosopher %ecaroA

I shall tell you 'hat I li!ed today in Khis 'ritingsLG it is these 'ordsA ?Dhat progress" C ou as!" have I madeI I have ?begun to be a #riend to mysel#.? *hat 'as indeed a great bene#itG . . . you may be sure that such a man is a #riend to all man!ind. 3. *here is an easy 'ay to measure our inner levels o# ab@ecmess and #riendliness to ourselvesG 'e should e<amine ho' 'ell 'e respond to noise. eneca lived near a gymnasium. *he 'alls 'ere thin and the rac!et 'as continuous. %e described the problem to )uciliusA Imagine what a variety of noises reverberates around my ears< ... ?or example, when a strenuous gentleman is exercising himself by swinging lead weights, when he is working hard, or else pretends to be working hard, I can hear him grunting. and whenever he releases his pent'up breath, I can hear him panting in whee y, high(pitched tones. %hen my attention cums to a less active type who is happy with an ordinary, inexpensive massage, I can hear the smack of a hand pummelling his shoulders . . . 8ne should add to this the arresting of an occasional reveller or pickpocket, the racket of the man who always likes to hear his own voice in the bathroom . . . the hair(plucker with his shrill, penetrating .cry . . . then the cake seller with his varied cries, the sausage man, the confectioner and everyone hawking for the catering shops.

0. *hose 'ho are un#riendly 'ith themselves #ind it hard to imagine that the ca!e seller is shouting in order to sell ca!es. *he builder on the ground #loor o# a hotel in $ome BiC may be pretending to repair a 'all" but his real intention is to tease the man trying to read a boo! in a room on the upper level B2C. Ab@ect interpretationA *he builder is hammering in order to annoy me. 9riendly interpretationA *he builder is hammering and I am annoyed.

4. *o calm us do'n in noisy streets" 'e should trust that those ma!ing a noise !no' nothing o# us. De should place a #ireguard bet'een the noise outside and an internal sense o# deserving punishment. De should not import into scenarios 'here they don?t belong pessimistic interpretations o# others? motives. *herea#ter" noise 'ill never be pleasant" but it 'ill not have to

ma!e us #uriousA All outdoors may be bedlam" provided that there is no disturbance 'ithin.

7 +# course" there 'ould be #e' great human achievements i# 'e accepted all #rustrations. *he motor o# our ingenuity is the =uestion ?1oes it have to be li!e thisI?" #rom 'hich arise political re#orms" scienti#ic developments" improved relationships" better boo!s. *he $omans 'ere consummate at re#using #rustration. *hey hated 'inter cold and developed under-#loor heating. *hey didn?t 'ish 80 'al! on muddy roads and so paved them. In the middle o# the #irst century A1 the $oman inhabitants o#&imes in Provence decided they 'anted more 'ater #or their city than nature had granted them" and so spent a hundred million sesterces building an e<traordinary symbol o# human resistance to the status =uo. *o the north o#&imes" near U>es" $oman engineers #ound a 'ater source strong enough ro irrigate the baths and #ountains o# their city" and dre' up plans to divert the 'ater -0 miles through mountains and across valleys in a system o# a=ueducts and underground pipes. Dhen the engineers con#ronted the cavernous gorge o# the river Card" they did not despair at nature?s obstacle but erected a massive three-tiered a=ueduct" 7.0 metres long and 50 metres high" capable o# carrying 7-"000 cubic metres o# 'ater a day - so that the inhabitants o# &imes 'ould never be #orced to su##er the #rustration o# a shallo' bath. Un#ortunately" the mental #aculties 'hich search so assiduously #or alternatives are hard to arrest. *hey continue to play out scenarios o# change and progress even 'hen there is no hope o# altering reality. *o generate the energy re=uired to spur us to action" 'e are reminded by @olts o# discom#ort - an<iety" pain" outrage" o##ence - that reality is not as 'e 'ould 'ish it. (et these @olts have served no purpose i# 'e cannot subse=uently e##ect improvement" i# 'e lose our peace o# mind but are unable to divert riversG 'hich is 'hy" #or eneca" 'isdom lies in correctly discerning 'here 'e are #ree to mould reality according to our 'ishes and 'here 'e

must accept the unalterable 'ith tran=uillity. *he toics had another image 'ith 'hich to evo!e our condition as creatures at times able to e##ect change yet al'ays sub@ect to e<ternal necessities. De are li!e dogs 'ho have been tied to an unpredictable cart. +ur leash is long enough to give us a degree o# lee'ay" but not long enough to allo' us to 'ander 'herever 'e please. *he metaphor had been #ormulated by the toic philosophers Heno and Chrysippus and reported by the $oman Bishop %ippolymsA %hen a dog is tied to a cart, if it wants to follow, it is pulled and follows, making its spontaneous act coincide with necessity. +ut if the dog does not follow, it will be compelled in any case. So it is with men too2 even if they don't want to, they will be compelled to follow what is destined. A dog 'ill naturally hope to go 'herever it pleases. But as Heno and Chrysippus?s metaphor implies" i# it cannot" then it is better #or the animal to be trotting behind the cart rather than dragged and strangled by it. *hough the dog?s #irst impulse may be to #ight against the sudden s'erve o# the cart in an a'#ul direction" his sorro's 'ill only be compounded by his resistance. As eneca put itA An animal, struggling against the noose, tightens it... there is no yoke so tight that it will not him che animal less if it pulls with it than if it fights against it. #he one alleviation for overwhelming evils is to endure and bow to necessity. *o reduce the violence o# our mutiny against events 'hich veer a'ay #rom our intentions- Qve should re#lect that 'e" too" are never 'ithout a leash around our nec!. *he 'ise 'ill leam ro identi#y 'hat is necessary and #ollo' it at once" rather than e<haust themselves in protest. Dhen a 'ise man is told that his suitcase has been lost in transit" he 'ill resign himsel# in seconds to the #act. eneca reported ho' the #ounder o# toicism had behaved upon the loss o# his possessionsA Dhen Heno received ne's o# a ship'rec! and heard that all his luggage had been sun!" he said" ?9ortune bids me to be a less encumbered philosopher.?

It may sound li!e a recipe #or passivity and =uietude" encouragement to resign ourselves to #rustrations that might have beer overcome. It could leave us 'ithout heart to build even a dim inutive a=ueduct li!e that in Bomegre" in a valley a #e' !ilometres north o# the Pont du ,ard" a modest 83 metres long and 5 metres high. But eneca?s point is more subtle. It is no less unreasonable to accept something as necessary 'hen it isn?t as to rebel against something 'hen it is. De can as easily go astray by accepting the unnecessary and denying the possible" as by denying the necessary and 'ishing #or the impossible. It is #or reason to ma!e the distinction. Dhatever the similarities bet'een ourselves and a dog on a leash" 'e have a critical advantageA 'e have reason and the dog doesn?t. o the animal does not at #irst grasp that he is even tied to a leash" nor understand the connection bet'een the s'erves o# the cart and the pain in his nec!. %e 'ill be con#used by the changes in direction" it 'ill be hard #or him to calculate the can?s tra@ectory" and so he 'ill su##er constant pain#ul @olts. But reason enables us to theori>e 'ith accuracy about the path o# our cart" 'hich o##ers us a chance" uni=ue among living beings" to increase our sense o# #reedom by ensuring a good slac! bet'een ourselves and necessity. $eason allo's us to determine 'hen our 'ishes arc in irrevocable con#lict 'ith reality" and then bids us to submit ourselves 'illingly" rather than angrily or bitterly" to necessities. De may be po'erless to alter certain events" but 'e remain #ree to choose our attitude to'ards them. and it is in our spontaneous acceptance o# necessity thai 'e #ind our distinctive #reedom. In 9ebruary .2" eneca came up against an unalterable reality. &ero ceased to listen to his old tutor" he shunned his company" encouraged slander o# him at court and appointed a bloodthirsty praetorian pre#ect" +#onius *igellinus" to assist him in indulging his taste #or random murder and se<ual cruelty. Sirgins 'ere ta!en o## the streets o# $ome and brought to the emperor?s chambers. enators? 'ives 'ere #orced to participate in orgies" and sa' their husbands !illed in #ront o# them. &ero roamed the city at night disguised as an ordinary citi>en and slashed the throats o# passers-by in bac! alleys. %e #ell in love 'ith a young boy 'ho he 'ished could have been a girl" and so he castrated him and 'ent through a moc! 'edding ceremony. $omans 'ryly @o!ed that their lives 'ould have been more tolerable i# &ero?s #ather 1omitius had married that sort o# a 'oman. Mno'ing he 'as in e<treme danger" eneca attempted to 'ithdra' #rom court and remain =uiety in

his villa outside $ome. *'ice he o##ered his resignationG t'ice &ero re#used" embracing him tightly and s'earing that he 'ould rather die than harm his beloved tutor. &othing in eneca?s e<perience could allo' him to believe such promises. %e turned to philosophy. %e could not escape &ero" and 'hat he could not change" reason as!ed him to accept. 1uring 'hat might have been intolerably an<ious years" eneca devoted himsel# to the study o# nature. %e began 'riting a boo! about the earth and the planets. %e loo!ed at the vast s!y and the constellation o# the heavens" he studied the unbounded sea and the high mountains. %e observed #lashes o# lightning and speculated on their originsA A lightning bolt is fire that has been compressed and hurled violently. Sometimes we take up water in our two clasped hands and pressing our palms together squirt out water the way a pump does. Suppose something like this occurs in the clouds. #he constricted space of the compressed clouds forces out the air that is between them and by means of this pressure sets the air afire and hurls it the way a catapult does. %e considered earth=ua!es and decided they 'ere the result o# air trapped inside the earth that had sought a 'ay out" a #orm o# geological #latulenceA Among the arguments that prove earthquakes occur because of moving air, this is one you shouldn't hesitate to put forward2 when a great tremor has exhausted its rage against cities and countries, another equal to it cannot follow. After the largest shock, there are only gentle quakes because the first tremor, acting with greater vehemence, has created an exit for the struggling air. It hardly mattered that eneca?s science 'as #aultyG it 'as more signi#icant that a man 'hose li#e could at any time have been cut short by the caprice o# a murderous emperor appeared to gain immense relie# #rom the spectacle o# nature - perhaps because in mighty natural phenomena lie reminders o# all that 'e are po'erless to change" o# all that 'e must accept. ,laciers" volcanoes" earth=ua!es and hurricanes stand as impressive symbols o# 'hat e<ceeds us. In the human 'orld" 'e gro' to believe that 'e may al'ays alter our destinies" and hope and 'orry accordingly. It is apparent #rom the heedless pounding o# the oceans or the #light o# comets across the night s!y that there are #orces entirely indi##erent to our desires. *he indi##erence is not nature?s aloneG humans can 'ield e=ually blind po'ers over their #ello's" but it is nature 'hich gives us a most elegant lesson in the necessities to 'hich 'e are

sub@ectA %inter brings on cold weather. and we must shiver. Summer returns, with its heat. and we must sweat. :nseasonable weather upsets the health. and we must fall ill. In certain places we may meet with wild beasts, or with men who are more destructive than any beasts ... And we cannot change this order of things ... it is to this law 6of 0ature7 that our souls must ad&ust themselves, this they should follow, this they should obey ... #hat which you cannot reform, it is best to endure. eneca began his boo! on nature as soon as he had #irst o##ered &ero his resignation. %e 'as granted three years. *hen in April .-" Piso?s plot against the emperor 'as uncovered" and a centurion dispatched to the philosopher?s villa. %e 'as ready. *opless Paulina and her maids might have collapsed into tears but eneca had learned to #ollo' the cart obediently" and slit his veins 'ithout protest. As he had reminded ;arcia on the loss o# her son ;etiliusA %hat need is there to weep over parts of life, #he whole of it calls for tears.

IS Consolation #or Inade=uacy

8. A#ter centuries o# neglect" at times hostility" a#ter being scattered and burnt and surviving only in partial #orms in the vaults and libraries o# monasteries" the 'isdom o# ancient ,reece and $ome returned triumphantly to #avour in the si<teenth century. Among the intellectual elites o# :urope" a consensus emerged that the #inest thin!ing the 'orld had yet !no'n had occurred in the minds o# a hand#ul o# geniuses in the city states o# ,reece and the Italian peninsula bet'een the construction o# the Parthenon and the sac!

o# $ome - and that there 'as no greater imperative #or the educated than to #amiliari>e themselves 'ith the richness c# these 'or!s. ;a@or ne' editions 'ere prepared o# among others Plato" )ucretius" eneca" Aristotle" Catullus" )onginus and Cicero" and selections #rom the classics - :rasmus?s Apophthegm-ata and Adages" tobeus?s ententiae" Antonio de ,uevara?s ,olden :pistles and Petrus CrinitusPs %onorable )earning - spread into libraries across :urope. In south-'estern 9rance" on the summit o# a 'ooded hill 70 miles east o# Bordeau<" sat a handsome castle made o# yello' stone 'ith dar!-red roo#s. It 'as home to a middle-aged nobleman" his 'i#e 9rancoise" his daughter )eonor" their sta## and their animals Bchic!ens" goats" dogs and horsesC. ;ichel de ;ontaigne?s grand#ather had bought the property in 8533 #rom the proceeds o# the #amily salt-#ish business" his #ather had added some 'ings and e<tended the land under cultivation" and the son had been loo!ing a#ter it since the age o# thirty-#ive" though he had little interest in household management and !ne' almost nothing about #arming BI can scarcely tell my cabbages #rom my lettuces?C. %e pre#erred to pass his time in a circular library on the third #loor o# a to'er at one comer o# the castleA ?I spend most days o# my li#e there" and most hours o# each day.? *he library had three 'indo's B'ith 'hat ;ontaigne described as ?splendid and unhampered vie's?C" a des!" a chair and" arranged on #ive tiers o# shelves in a semicircle" about a thousand volumes o# philosophy" history" poetry and religion. It 'as here that ;ontaigne read ocrates? B?the 'isest man that ever 'as?C stead#ast address to the impatient @urors o# Athens in a )atin edition o# Plato translated by ;arsilio 9icinoG here that he read :picurus?s vision o# happiness in 1iogenes )aerrius?s )ives and )ucretius?s 1e $eru-m &ature edited by 1enys )ambin in 8-.7G and here that he read and re-read eneca Ban author ?stri!ingly suited to my humour?C in a ne' set o# his 'or!s printed in Basle in 8--3. %e had been initiated in the classics at an early age. %e had been taught )atin as a #irst language. By seven or eight" he had read +vid?s ;etamorphoses. Be#ore he 'as si<teen" he had bought a set o# Sirgil and !ne' intimately the Aencid" as 'ell as *erence" Plautus and the Commentaries o# Caesar. And such 'as his devotion to boo!s that" a#ter 'or!ing as a counsellor in the Parlement o# Bordeau< #or thirteen years" he retired 'ith the idea o# devoting

himsel# entirely to them. $eading 'as the solace o# his li#eA It consoles me in my retreatG it relieves me o# the 'eight o# distressing idleness and" at any time. can rid me o# boring companyIt blunts the stabs o# pain 'henever pain is not too overpo'ering and e<treme. *o distract me #rom morose thoughts" I simply need to have recourse to boo!s. But the library shelves" 'ith their implication o# an unbounded admiration #or the li#e o# the mind" did not tell the #ull story. +ne had to loo! more closely around the library" stand in the middle o# the room and tilt onc?s-head to the ceilingG in the mid-8-30s ;ontaigne had a set o# #i#ty-seven short inscriptions culled #rom the Bible and the classics painted across the 'ooden beams" and these suggested some pro#ound reservations about the bene#its o# having a mindA #he happiest life is to be without thought. / ophocles 4ave you seen a man who thinks he is wise, /ou have more to hope for from a madman than from him. - Proverbs #here is nothing certain but uncertainly, nothing more miserable and more proud than man. - Pliny "verything is too complicated for men to be able to understand. :cclesiastes Ancient philosophers had believed that our po'ers o# reason could a##ord us a happiness" and greatness denied to other creatures. $eason allo'ed us to control our passions and to correct the #alse notions prompted by our instincts. $eason tempered the 'ild demands o# our bodies and led us to a balanced relationship 'ith our appetites #or #ood and se<. $eason 'as a sophisticated" almost divine" tool o##ering us mastery over the 'orld and ourselves. In the *usculan 1isputations" o# 'hich there 'as a copy in the round library" Cicero had heaped praise upon the bene#its o# intellectual 'or!A #here is no occupation so sweet as scholarship. scholarship is the means of making known to us, while still in this world, the infinity of matter, the immense grandeur of 0ature, the heavens, the lands and the seas. Scholarship has taught us picry. moderation, greatness of heart. it snatches our souls from darkness and shows them all things, the high and the low, the first, the last and everything in

between. scholarship furnishes us with the means of living well and happily. it teaches us how to spend our lives without discontent and without vexation. *hough he o'ned a thousand boo!s and had bene#ited #rom a #ine classical education" this laudation so in#uriated ;ontaigne" it ran so contrary to the spirit o# the library beams" that he e<pressed his indignation 'ith uncharacteristic #erocityA *an is a wretched creature .. . &ust listen to hm. bragging ... Is this fellow describing the properties of almighty an(i everlasting $od< In practice, thousands of little women in their villages have lived more gentle, more equable and more constant lives than 6Cicero7. *he $oman philosopher had overloo!ed ho' violently unhappy most scholars 'ereG he had arrogantly disregarded the appalling troubles #or 'hich human beings" alone among all other creatures" had been singled out - troubles 'hich might in dar! moments leave us regretting that 'e had not been bom ants or tortoises. +r goats. I #ound her in the yard o# a #arm a #e' !ilometres #rom ;ontaigne?s chateau" in the hamlet o# )es ,auchers. he had never read the #usculan 1isputations nor Cicero?s +n the )a's. And yet she seemed content" nibbling at stray pieces o# lettuce" occasionally sha!ing her head li!e an elderly 'oman e<pressing =uiet disagreement. It 'as not an unenviable e<istence. ;ontaigne 'as himsel# struc! by" and elaborated upon the advantages o# living as an animal rather than as a reasoning human 'ith a large library. Animals !ne' instinctively ho' to help themselves 'hen they 'ere sic!A goats could pic! out dittany #rom a thousand other plants i# they 'ere 'ounded" tortoises automatically loo!ed #or origanum 'hen they 'ere bitten by vipers" and stor!s could give themselves salt-'ater enemas. By contrast" humans 'ere #orced to rely on e<pensive" misguided doctors Bmedicine chests 'ere #illed 'ith absurd prescriptionsA ?the urine o# a li>ard" the droppings o# an elephant" the liver o# a mole" blood dra'n #rom under the right 'ing o# a 'hite pigeon" and #or those o# us 'ith colic paro<ysms" triturated rat shit?C. Animals also instinctively understood comple< ideas 'ithout su##ering long periods o# study. *unny-#ish 'ere spontaneous e<perts in astrology. Dherever they may be 'hen they are surprised by the 'inter solstice" there they remain until the #ollo'ing e=uino<2 reported ;ontaigne. *hey understood geometry and

arithmetic" too" #or they s'am together in groups in the shape o# a per#ect cubeA ?I# you count one line o# them you have the count o# the 'hole school" since the same #igure applies to their depth" breadth and length? 1ogs had an innate grasp o# dialectical logic. ;ontaigne mentioned one 'ho" loo!ing #or his master" came upon a three-pronged #or! in the road. %e #irst loo!ed do'n one road" then another" and then ran do'n the third a#ter concluding that his master must have chosen itA 4ere was pure dialectic2 the dog made use of dis&unctive and copulative propositions and adequately enumerated the parts. 1oes it matter whether he learned all this from himself or from the 1ialectics of $eorge of#rebi ond, Animals #re=uently had the upper hand in love as 'ell. ;ontaigne read enviously o# an elephant 'ho had #allen in love 'ith a #lo'erseller in Ale<andria. Dhen being led through the mar!et" he !ne' ho' to slip his 'rin!led trun! through her nec!band and 'ould massage her breasts 'ith a de<terity no human could match. And 'ithout trying" the humblest #arm animal could e<ceed the philosophical detachment o# the 'isest sages o# anti=uity. *he ,ree! philosopher Pyrrho once travelled on a ship 'hich ran into a #ierce storm. All around him passengers began to panic" a#raid that the mutinous 'aves 'ould shatter their #ragile cra#t. But one passenger did not lose his composure and sat =uietly in a comer" 'earing a tran=uil e<pression. %e 'as a pigA 1are we conclude that the benefit of reason Cwhich we praise so highly and on account ofwEich we esteem ourselves to be lords and masters of all creationD was placed in us for our torment, %hat use is knowledge if, for its sake, we lose the calm and repose which we should en&oy without it and if it makes our condition worse than thai of-yrrho's pig, It 'as =uestionable 'hether the mind gave us anything to be grate#ul #orA %e have been allotted inconstancy, hesitation, doubt, pain, super( stition, worries about what will happen Ceven after we are deadD, ambition, greed, &ealousy, envy, unruly, insane and untameable appetites, war, lies, disloyalty, backbiting and curiosity. %e take pride in our fair, discursive reason and our capacity to &udge and to know, but we have bought them at a price which is strangely excessive. I# o##ered a choice" ;ontaigne 'ould in the end perhaps not have

opted- to live as a goat - but only @ust. Cicero had presented the benevolent picture o# reason. i<teen centuries later" it 'as #or ;ontaigne to introduce the adverseA #o leam that we have said or done a stupid thing is nothing, we must leam a more ample and important lesson2 that we are but blockheads. - the biggest bloc!heads o# all being philosophers li!e Cicero 'ho had never suspected they might even be such things. ;isplaced con#idence in reason 'as the 'ell-spring o# idiocy - and" indirectly" also o# inade=uacy. Beneath his painted beams" ;ontaigne had outlined a ne' !ind o# philosophy" one 'hich ac!no'ledged ho' #ar 'e 'ere #rom the rational" serene creatures 'hom most o# the ancient thin!ers had ta!en us to be. De 'ere #or the most part hysterical and demented" gross and agitated souls beside 'hom animals 'ere in many respects paragons o# health and virtue - an un#ortunate reality 'hich philosophy 'as obliged to re#lect" but rarely didA 8ur life consists partly in madness, partly in wisdom2 whoever writes about it merely respectfully and by rule leaves more than half of it behind. And yet i# 'e accepted our #railties" and ceased claiming a mastery 'e did not have" 'e stood to #ind - in ;ontaigne?s generous" redemptive philosophy - that 'e 'ere ultimately still ade=uate in our o'n distinctive hal#-'ise" hal#-bloc!headish 'ay.

2 +n e<ual Inade=uacy %o' problematic to have both a body and a mind" #or the #ormer stands in almost monstrous contrast to the latter?s dignity and intelligence. +ur bodies smeli" ache" sag" pulse" throb and age. *hey #orce us ro #art and burp" and ro abandon sensible plans in order to lie in bed 'ith people" s'eating and letting out intense

sounds reminiscent o# hyenas calling out to one another across the barren 'astes o# the American deserts. +ur bodies hold our minds hostage to their 'hims and rhythms. +ur 'hole perspective on li#e can be altered by the digestion olE a heavy lunch. #J #eel =uite a di##erent person be#ore and a#ter a meal"? concurred ;ontaigneA %hen good health and a fine sunny day smile at me, I am quite debonair. give me an ingrowing toe(nail, and I am touchy, bad( tempered and unapproachable. :ven the greatest philosophers have not been spared bodily humiliation. ?Imagine Plato struc! do'n by epilepsy or apople<y2 proposed ;ontaigne" ?then challenge him to get any help #rom all those noble and splendid #aculties o# his soul2 +r imagine that in the middle o# a symposium" Plaro had been struc! by )-I need to #artA #hat sphincter which serves to discharge our stomachs has dilations and contractions proper to itself, independent of our wishes or even opposed to them. ;ontaigne heard o# a man 'ho !ne' ho' to #art at 'ill" and on occasion arranged a se=uence o# #arts in a metrical accompaniment to poetry" but such mastery did not contravene his general observation that our bodies have the upper hand over our minds" and that the sphincter is ?most indiscreet and disorderly?. ;ontaigne even heard a tragic case o# one behind ?so stormy and churlish that it has obliged its master to #art #orth 'ind constantly and unremittingly #or #orty years and is thus bringing him to his death.? &o 'onder 'e may be tempted to deny our uncom#ortable" insulting coe<istence 'ith these vessels. ;ontaigne met a 'oman 'ho" acutely a'are o# ho' repulsive her digestive organs 'ere" tried to live as thoughPshe didn?t have anyA 6#his7 lady Camongst the greatestD ... shares rhe opinion that chewing distorts the face, derogating greatly from women's grace and beauty. so when hungry, she avoids appearing in public. And I know a man who cannot tolerate watching people eat nor others watching him do so2 he shuns all company even more when he fills his belly than when he empties it. ;ontaigne !ne' men so over'helmed by their se<ual longings that they ended their torment through castration. +thers tried to suppress their lust by applying sno'-and-vinegar compresses to

their overactive testicles. *he :mperor ;a<imilian" conscious o# a con#lict bet'een being regal and having a body" ordered that no one should see him na!ed" particularly belo' the 'aist. %e e<pressly re=uested in his 'ill that he be buried in a set o# linen underpants. ?%e should have added a codicil"? noted ;ontaigne" laying that the mar 'ho pulled them on ought to be blind#olded.? %o'ever dra'n he may be to'ards such radical measures" ;ontaigne?s philosophy is one o# reconciliationA *he most uncouth o# our a##lictions is to despise cur being.? $ather than trying to cut ourselves in t'o" 'e should cease 'aging civil 'ar on our perple<ing physical envelopes and learn to accept them as unalterable #acts o# our condition" neither so terrible nor so humiliating. In the summer o# 8447" ). and I travelled to northern Portugal #or a holiday. De drove along the villages o# the ;inho" then spent a #e' days south o#Siana do Castelo. It 'as here" on the last night o# our holiday" in a small hotel overloo!ing the sea" that I reali>ed - =uite 'ithout 'arning - that I could no longer ma!e love. It 'ould hardly have been possible to surmount" let alone mention the e<perience" i# I had not" a #e' months be#ore going to Portugal" come across the t'enty-#irst chapter o# the #irst volume o# ;ontaigne?s :ssays. *he author recounted therein that a #riend o# his had heard a man e<plain ho' he had lost his erection @ust as he prepared to enter a 'oman. *he embarrassment o# the detumescence struc! ;ontaigne?s #riend 'ith such #orce" that the ne<t time he 'as in bed 'ith a 'oman" he could not banish it #rom his mind" and the #ear o# the same catastrophe be#alling him gre' so over'helming that it prevented his o'n penis #rom sti##ening. 9rom then on" ho'ever much he desired a 'oman" he could not attain an erection" and the ignoble memory o# every misadventure taunted and tyranni>ed him 'ith increasing #orce. ;ontaigne?s #riend had gro'n impotent a#ter #ailing to achieve the un'avering rational command over his penis thai he assumed to be an indispensable #eature o# normal manhood. ;ontaigne did not blame the penisA ?:<cept #or genuine impotence" never again are you incapable i# you are capable o# doing it once2 It 'as the oppressive notion that 'e had complete mental control over embodies" and the horror o# departing #rom this portrait o# normality" that had le#i- the man unable to per#orm. *he solution 'as to redra' the portraitG it 'as by accepting a loss o# command over the penis as a harmless possibility in love-ma!ing that one could preempt its occurrence - as the stric!en man eventually discovered. In

bed 'ith a 'oman" he learnt toA admit beforehand that he way sub&ect to this infirmity and spoke openly about it, so relieving the tensions within his soul. +y bearing the malady as something to be expected, his sense of constriction grew less and weighed less heavily on him. ;ontaigne?s #ran!ness allo'ed the tensions in the reader?s o'n soul to be relieved. *he penis?s abrupt moods 'ere i -emoved #rom the Cimmerian recesses o# 'ordless shame and reconsidered 'ith the unshoc!able" 'orldly eye o# a philosopher 'hom nothing bodily could repulse. A sense o# personal culpability 'as lessened by 'hat ;ontaigne described asA 6#he universal7 disobedience of this member which thrusts itself forward so inopportunely when we do not want it to, and which so inopportunely lets us down when we most need it, A man 'ho #ailed-'ith his mistress and 'as unable to do any more than mumble an apology could regain his #orces and soothe the an<ieties o#his beloved by accepting that his impotence belonged to a broad realm o# se<ual mishaps" neither very rare nor very peculiar. ;ontaigne !ne' a ,ascon nobleman 'ho" a#ter #ailing to maintain an erection 'ith a 'oman" #led home" cut o## his penis and sent it to the lady ?to atone #or his o##ence?. ;ontaigne proposed instead thatA If 6couples7 are not ready, they should not try to rush things. !ather than fall into perpetual wretchedness by being struck with despair at a first re&ection, it is better . , . to wait for an opportune moment ... a man who suffers a re&ection should make gentle assays and overtures with various little sallies. he should not stubbornly persist in proving himself inadequate once and for all. It 'as a ne' language" unsensarional and intimate" 'ith 'hich to articulate the loneliest moments o# our se<uality. Cutting a path into the private sorro's o# the bedchamber" ;ontaigne drained them o# their ignominy" attempting all the 'hile to reconcile us to our bodily selves. %is courage in mentioning 'hat is secretly lived but rarely heard e<pands the range o# 'hat 'e can dare to e<press to our lovers and to ourselves - a courage #ounded on ;ontaigne?s conviction that nothing that can happen to man is inhuman" that ?every man bears the 'hole 9orm o# the human condition"? a condition 'hich includes - 'e do not need to blush nor hate ourselves #or it - the ris! o# an occasional rebellious #laccidity in the penis.

;ontaigne attributed our problems 'ith our bodies in part to an absence o# honest discussion about them in polite circles. $epresentative stories and images do not tend to identi#y #eminine grace 'ith a strong interest in love-ma!ing" nor authority 'ith the possession o# a sphincter or penis. Pictures o# !ings and ladies do not encourage us to thin! o# these eminent souls brea!ing 'ind or ma!ing love. ;ontaigne #illed out the picture in blunt" beauti#ul 9renchA Au plus esleve throne du monde si ne sommes assis que sus nostre cul. Upon the highest throne in the 'orld" 'e are seated" still" upon our arses. )es !oys et les philosophes fientent, ct les dames aussi. Mings and philosophers shitA and so do ladies. %e could have put it other'ise. Instead o# ?cul?" ?derriere or ?#esses?. Instead o##ienter" ?alleraii cabinet?. $andle Cotgrave?s 1ictionarie o# the 9rench and :nglish *ongues B#or the #urtherance o# young )earners" and the advantage o# all others that endeavour to arrive at the most e<actly !no'ledge o# the 9rench languageC" printed in )ondon in 8.88" e<plained that ?#ienter re#erred particularly to the e<cretions o# vermin and badgers. I# ;ontaigne #elt the need #or such strong language" it 'as to correct an e=ually strong denial o# the body in 'or!s o# philosophy and in dra'ing rooms. *he vie' that ladies never had" to 'ash their hands and !ings had no behinds had made it timely to remind the 'orld that they shat and had arsesA *he genital activities o# man!ind are so natural" so necessary and so rightA 'hat have they done to ma!e us never dare to mention them 'ithout embarrassment anoQto e<clude them #rom serious orderly conversationI De are not a#raid to utter the 'ords !ill" thieve" or betrayG but thoae others 'e only dare to mutter through our teeth. In the vicinity o# ;ontaigne?s chateau 'ere several beech-tree #orests" one to the north near the village o# Castillon-la-Bataille" another to the east near t Sivien. ;ontaignePs daughter )eonor must have !no'n their silences and their grandeur. he 'as not encouraged to !no' their nameA the 9rench #or ?beech tree? is #outeau. *he 9rench #or ?#uc!? is ?#outre. ?;y daughter - I have no other children - is o# an age 'hen the more passionate girls are legally allo'ed to marry"? ;ontaigne e<plained o# )eonor" then about #ourteenA

She is slender and gentle. by complexion she is young for her age, having been quietly brought up on her own by her mother. she is only &ust learning to throw off her childish innocence. She was reading from a ?rench book in my presence when she came across the name of that well(known tree fouteau. #he woman she has for governess pulled her up short rather rudely and made her &ump over that awkward ditch. *'enty coarse lac!eys could not" ;ontaigne 'ryly remar!ed" have taught )eonor more about 'hat lur!ed beneath ?#outeau than a stern in@unction to long@ump over the 'ord. Bur #or the governess" or the ?old crone? as her employer more bluntly termed her" the leap 'as essential because a young 'oman could not easily combine dignity 'ith a !no'ledge o# 'hat might occur i# in a #e' years? time she #ound hersel# in a bedroom 'ith a man. ;ontaigne 'as #aulting our conventional portraits #or leaving out so much o# 'hat 'e are. It 'as in part in order to correct this that he 'rote his o'n boo!. Dhen he retired at the age o# thirty-eight" he 'ished to 'rite" but 'as unsure 'hat his theme should be. +nly gradually did an idea #orm in his mind #or a boo! so unusual as to be unli!e any o# the thousand volumes on the semicircular shelves. %e abandoned millennia o# authorial coyness to 'rite about himsel#. %e set out to describe as e<plicitly as possible the 'or!ings o# his o'n mind and body - declaring his intention in the pre#ace to the :ssays" t'o volumes o# 'hich 'ere published in Bordeau< in 8-00" 'ith a third added in a Paris edition eight years laterA %ad I #ound mysel# among those peoples 'ho are said still to live under the s'eet liberty o# &ature?s primal la's" I can assure you that I 'ould most 'illingly have portrayed mysel# 'hole" and 'holly na!ed. &o author had hitherto aspired to present himsel# to his readers 'ithout any clothes on. *here 'as no shortage o# o##icial" #ully clothed portraits" accounts o# the lives o# saints and popes" $oman emperors and ,ree! statesmen. *here 'as even an o##icial portrait o# ;ontaigne by *homas de )eu B8-.2-0. 8.2.0C" 'hich sho'ed him dressed in the mayoral robes o# the city" 'ith the chain o# the order o# aint-;ichel o##ered to him by Charles IF in 8-38" 'earing an inscrutable" some'hat severe e<pression. But this robed" Ciceronian sel# 'as not 'hat ;ontaigne 'ished his :ssays to reveal. %e 'as concerned 'ith the 'hole man" 'ith the creation o# an alternative to the portraits 'hich had le#t out most o#

'hat man 'as. It 'as 'hy his boo! came to include discussions o# his meals" his penis" his stools" his se<ual con=uests and his #arts details 'hich had seldom #eatured in a serious boo! be#ore" so gravely did they #lout man?s image o# himsel# as a rational creature. ;ontaigne in#ormed his readersA *hat the behaviour o# his penis constituted an essentialpart o# his identityA "very one of my members, each as much as another, makes me myself2 and none makes me more properly a man than that one. I owe to the public my portrait complete. *hat he#o>ind se< noisy and messvA "verywhere else you can preserve some decency. all other activities accept the rules of propriety. this other one can only be thought of as flawed or ridiculous. 9ust try and find a wise and discreet way of doing it< *hat he li!ed =uiet 'hen sitting on the toiletA 8f all the natural operations, that is the one during which I least willingly tolerate being disrupted. And that he 'as very regular about goingA *y bowels and I never fail to keep our rende vous, which is Cunless some urgent business or illness disturbs usD when I &ump out of bed. I# 'e accord importance to the !ind o# portraits 'hich surround us" it is because 'e #ashion our lives according to their e<ample" accepting aspects o# ourselves i# they concur 'ith 'hat others mention o# themselves. Dhat 'e see evidence #or in others" 'e 'ill attend to 'ithin" 'hat others are silent abour" 'e may stay blind to or e<perience only in shame. Dhen I picture to mysel# the most re#lective and the most 'ise o# men in Kse<ualL postures" I hold it as an e##rontery that he should claim to be re#lective and 'ise. It is not that 'isdom is impossible" rather ir is the de#inition o# 'isdom that ;ontaigne 'as see!ing to nuance. *rue 'isdom must involve an accommodation 'ith our baser selves" it must adopt a modest vie' about the role that intelligence and high culture can play in any li#e and accept the urgent and at times deeply unedi#ying demands o# our mortal #rame. :picurean and toic philosophies had suggested that 'e could achieve mastery over

our bodies" and never be s'ept a'ay by our physical and passionate selves. It is noble advice that taps into our highest aspirations. It is also impossible" and there#ore counter-productiveA %hat is the use of those high philosophical peaks on which no human being can settle and those rules which exceed our practice and our power, It is not very clever of 6man7 to tailor his obligations to the standards of a different kind of being. *he body cannot be denied nor overcome" but there is at least" as ;ontaigne 'ished to remind the ?old crone? no need to choose bet'een our dignity and an interest m#outeauA *ay we not say that there is nothing in us during this earthly prison either purely corporeal or purely spiritual and that it is in&urious to rear a living man apart,

7. +n Cultural Inade=uacy Another cause o# a sense o# inade=uacy is the speed and arrogance 'ith 'hich people seem to divide the 'orld intp t'o camps" the camp o# the normal and that o# the abnormal. +ur e<periences and belie#s are liable #re=uently to be dismissed 'ith a =ui>>ical" slightly alarmed" ?$eallyI %o' 'eirdJ?" accompanied by a raised eyebro'" amounting in a small 'ay to a denial o# our legitimacy and humanity. In the summer o# 8-00" ;ontaigne acted on the desire o# a li#etime" and made his #irst @ourney outside 9rance" setting o## on horsebac! to $ome via ,ermany" Austria and 'it>erland. %e travelled in the company o# #our young noblemen" including his brother" Bertrand de ;attecoulon" and a do>en servants. *hey 'ere to be a'ay #rom home #or seventeen months" covering 7"000 miles. Among other ro'ns" the party rode through Basle" Baden" chanhausen" Augsburg" Innsbruc!" Serona" Senice" Padua" Bologna" 9lorence and iena - #inally reaching $ome to'ards evening on the last day o#

&ovember 8-00. As the party travelled" ;ontaigne observed ho' people?s ideas o# 'hat 'as normal altered sharply #rom province to province. In inns in the 'iss cantons" they thought it normal that beds should be raised high o## the ground" so that one needed steps to climb into them" that there should be pretty curtains around them and that travellers should have rooms to themselves. A #e' miles a'ay" in ,ermany" it 'as thought normal that beds should be lo' on the ground" have no curtains around them and that travellers should sleep #our to a room. Inn!eepers there o##ered #eather =uilts rather than the sheers one #ound in 9rench inns. In Basle" people didn?t mi< 'ater 'ith their 'ine and had si< or seven courses #or dinner" and in Baden they are only #ish on Dednesdays. *he smallest 'iss village 'as guarded by at least r'o policemenG the ,ermans rang their bells every =uarter o# an hour" in certain to'ns" every minute. In )indau" they served soup made o# =uinces" the meat dish came be#ore the soup" and the bread 'as made 'ith #ennel. 9rench travellers 'ere prone to be very upset by the di##erences. In hotels" they !ept a'ay #rom sideboards 'ith strange #oods" re=uesting the normal dishes they !ne' #rom home. *hey tried not to tal! to anyone 'ho had made the error o# not spea!ing their language" and pic!ed gingerly at the #ennel bread. ;ontaigne 'atched them #rom his tableA 8nce out of their villages, they feel like fish out of water. %herever they go they cling to their ways and curse foreign ones. If they come across a fellow(countryman . . . they celebrate the event .. . %ith a morose and taciturn prudence they travel about wrapped up in their cluaks and protecting themselves from the contagion of an unknown clime. In the middle o# the #i#teenth century" in the southern ,erman states" a ne' method o# heating homes had been developedA the Masteno#en" a #reestanding bo<-shaped iron stove made up o# rectangular plates bolted together" in 'hich coal or 'ood could be burnt. In the long 'inters" the advantages 'ere great. Closed stoves could dispense #Ptir times the heat o#-an open #ire" yet demanded less #uel and no chimney-s'eeps. *he--heat 'as absorbed by the casing and spread slo'ly and evenly through the air. Poles 'ere #i<ed around the stoves #or airing and drying laundry" and #amilies could use their stoves as seating areas throughout the 'inter.

But the 9rench 'ere not impressed. *hey #ound open #ires cheaper to buildG they accused ,erman stoves o# not providing a source o# light and o# 'ithdra'ing too much moisture #rom the air" lending an oppressive #eeling to a room. *he sub@ect 'as a matter o# regional incomprehension. In Augsburg in +ctober 8-00" ;ontaigne met a ,erman 'ho delivered a lengthy criti=ue o# the 'ay 9rench people heated their houses 'ith open #ires" and 'ho then 'ent on to adumbrate the advantages o# the iron stove. +n hearing that ;ontaigne 'ould be spending only a #e' days in the to'n Bhe had arrived on the i-th and 'as to leave on the 84thC" he e<pressed pity #or him" citing among the chie# inconveniences o# leaving Augsburg the ?heavyheadedness? he 'ould su##er on returning to open #ires - the very same ?heavy-headedness? 'hich the 9rench had long condemned iron stoves #or provo!ing. ;ontaigne e<amined me issue at close =uarters. In Baden" he 'as assigned a room 'ith an iron stove" and once he had gro'n used to a certain smell it released" spent a com#ortable night. %e noted that the stove enabled him to dress 'ithout putting on a #urred go'n" and months later" on a cold night in Italy" e<pressed regret at the absence o# stoves in his inn. +n his return home" he 'eighed up the respective =ualities o# each heating systemA It is true that the stoves give out an oppressive heat and that the materials of which they are built produce a smell when hot which causes headaches in those who are not used to them ... 8n the other hand, since the heat they give out is even, constant and spread all(over, without the visible flame, smoke and the draught produced by our chimneys, it has plenty of grounds for standing comparison with ours. o 'hat annoyed ;ontaigne 'ere the #irm" une<amined convictions o# both the Augsburg gentleman and the 9rench that their o'n system o# heating 'as superior. %ad ;ontaigne returned #rom ,ermany and installed in his library an iron stove #rom Augsburg" his countrymen 'ould have greeted the ob@ect 'ith the suspicion they accorded anything ne'G "ach nation has many customs and practices which are not only unknown to another nation but barbarous and a cause of wonder.

Dhen there 'as o# course nothing barbarous nor 'ondrous about either a stove or a #ireplace. *he de#inition o# normality proposed by any given society seems to capture only a #raction o# 'hat is in tact reasonable" un#airly condemning vast areas o# e<perience to an alien status. By pointing out to the man #rom Augsburg and his ,ascon neighbours that an iron stove and an open #ireplace had a legitimate place in the vast realm o# acceptable heating systems" ;ontaigne 'as attempting to broaden his readers provincial conception o# the normal - and #ollo'ing in the #ootsteps o# his #avourite philosopherA %hen they asked Socrates where he came from, he dad not say '?rom Athens', but '?rom the world.' *his 'orld had recently revealed itsel# to be #ar more peculiar than anyone in :urope had ever e<pected. +n 9riday 82 +ctober 8542" 9orty-one years be#ore ;ontaigne?s birth" Christopher Columbus reached one o# the islands on the archipelago o# the Bahamas at the entrance o# the gul# o# 9lorida" and made contact 'ith some ,uanahani Indians" 'ho had never heard o# 6esus and 'al!ed about 'ithout any clothes on. ;ontaigne too! an avid interest. In the round library 'ere several boo!s on the li#e o# the Indian tribes o# America" among them 9rancisco )ope> de ,omara?s )?histoire generate des Indes" ,irolamo Ben>oni?s %istoria. de mondo novo and 6ean de )ery?s )e voyage au Bresil. %e read that in outh America" people li!ed to eat spiders" grasshoppers" ants" li>ards and batsA *hey coo! them and serve them up in various sauces.? *here 'ere American tribes in 'hich virgins openly displayed their private pans" brides had orgies on rheir 'edding day" men 'ere allo'ed to marry each other" and the dead 'ere boiled" pounded into a gruel" mi<ed 'ith 'ine and drun! by their relatives at spirited parties. *here 'ere countries in 'hich 'omen stood up to pee and men s=uatted do'n" in 'hich men let their hair gro' on the #ront o# their body" but shaved their bac!. *here 'ere countries in 'hich men 'ere circumcised" 'hile in others" they had a horror o# the tip o# the penis ever seeing the light o# day and so ?scrupulously stretched the #ores!in right over it and tied it together 'ith little cords?. *here 'ere nations in 'hich you greeted people by turning your bac! to them" in 'hich 'hen the !ing spat" the court #avourite held out a hand" and 'hen he discharged his bo'els" attendants ?gathered up his #aeces in a linen cloth?. :very country seemed to have a di##erent conception o# beautyA In -eru, big ears are beautiful2 they stretch them as far as they can,

artificially. A man still alive today says that he saw in the "ast a country where this custom of stretching ears and loading them with &ewels is held in such esteem that he was often able to thrust his arm, clothes and all, through the holes women pierced in their lobes. "lsewhere there are whole nations which carefully blacken their teeth and loathe seeing white ones. "lsewhere they dye them red . . . #he women of *exico count low foreheads as a sign of beauty2 so, while they pluck the hair from the rest of their body, there they encourage it to grow thick and propagate it artificially. #hey hold large breasts in such high esteem that they affect giving suck to their children over their shoulders. 9rom 6ean de )ery" ;ontaigne learned that the *upi tribes o# Bra>il 'al!ed around in :denic nudity" and sho'ed no trace o# shame Bindeed" 'hen :uropeans tried to o##er the *upi 'omen clothes" they giggled and turned them do'n" pu>>led 'hy anyone 'ould burden themselves 'ith anything so uncom#ortableC. 1e )ery?s engraver B'ho had spent eight years 'ith the tribesC too! care to correct the rumour ri#e in :urope that the *upis 'ere as hairy as animals Bde )eryA ?Us ne sont point naturellement poilus =ue nous ne sommes en ce pays?C. *he men shaved their heads" and the 'omen gre' their hair long" and tied it together 'ith pretty red braids. *he *upi Indians loved to 'ashG any time they sa' a river" they 'ould @ump into it and rub each other do'n. *hey might 'ash as many as t'elve times a day. *hey lived in long barn-li!e structures 'hich slept 200 people. *heir beds 'ere 'oven #rom cotton and slung bet'een pillars li!e hammoc!s B'hen they 'ent hunting" the *upis too! their beds 'ith them" and had a#ternoon naps suspended bet'een treesC. :very si< months" a village 'ould move to a ne' location" because the inhabitants #elt a change o# scene 'ould do them good B?Us n?ont d?autre reponse" sinon de dire =ue changeant 9air" ils se portent m>eu<? - de )eryC. *he *upis? e<istence 'as so 'ell ordered" they #re=uently lived to be a hundred and never had 'hite or grey hair in old age. *hey 'ere also e<tremely hospitable. Dhen a ne'comer arrived in a village" the 'omen 'ould cover their #aces" start crying" and e<claim" ?%o' are youI (ou?ve ta!en such trouble to come and visit usJ? Sisitors 'ould immediately be o##ered the #avourite *upi drin!" made #rom the root o# a plant and coloured li!e claret" 'hich tasted sharp but 'as good #or the stomach. *upi men 'ere allo'ed to ta!e more than one 'i#e" and 'ere said to be devoted to them all. *heir entire system o# ethics con-

tains only the same r.vo articlesA resoluteness in battle and love o# their -vives"? reponecG ;ontaigne. And the 'ives 'ere apparently happy 'ith the arrangement" sho'ing no @ealousy Bse<ual relations 'ere rela<ed" the only prohibition being that one should never sleep 'ith close relativesC. ;ontaigne" 'ith his 'i#e do'nstairs in the castle" relished the detailA 8ne beautiful characteristic of their marriages is worth noting2 &ust as our wives are ealous in thwarting our love and tenderness for other women, theirs are equally ealous in obtaining them for them. +eing more concerned for their husband's reputation than for any( thing else, they take care and trouble to have as many fellow(wives as possible, since that is a testimony to their husband's valour. It was all undeniably peculiar. *ontaigne did not find any of it abnormal. %e 'as in a minority. oon a#ter Columbus?s discovery" panish and Portuguese colonists arrived #rom :urope to e<ploit the ne' lands and decided that the natives 'ere little better than animals. *he Catholic !night Sillegagnon spo!e o# them as ?beasts 'ith a human #ace? X?ce sont des betes po no-nt #igure humaine?C?" the Calvinist minister $icher argued they had no moral sense Cl?hebetude crasse de leur esprit ne distingue pas ie bien du mal?CG and the doctor )aurent 6oubert" a#ter e<amining #ive Bra>ilian 'omen" asserted that they had no periods and there#ore categorically did not belong to the human race. %aving stripped them o# their humanity" the panish began to slaughter them li!e animals. By 8-75" #orty-t'o years a#ter Columbus?s arrival" the A>tec and Inca empires had been destroyed" and their peoples enslaved or murdered. ;ontaigne read o# the barbarism in Bartolomeo )as Casas?s Brevissima $elacion de la. 1estruccion de las Indias Bprinted in eville in 8--2" translated into 9rench in 8-00 by 6ac=ues de ;iggrode as *yrannies et cmautes des :spagnols perpetrees es Indes occidentales =u?on dit Ie &ouveau ;ondeC. *he Indians 'ere undermined by their o'n hospitality and by the 'ea!ness o# their arms. *hey opened their villages and cities to the panish" to #ind their guests turning on them 'hen they 'ere least prepared. *heir primitive 'eapons 'ere no match #or panish cannons and s'ords" and the con=nistadores sho'ed no mercy to'ards their victims. *hey !illed children" slit open the bellies o# pregnant 'omen" gouged out eyes" roasted 'hole #amilies alive and set #ire to villages in the night. *hey trained dogs to go into the @ungles 'here the Indians had #led and to tear them to pieces.

;en 'ere sent to 'or! in gold- and silver-mines" chained together by iron collars. Dhen a man died" his body 'as cut #rom the chain" 'hile his companions on either side continued 'or!ing. ;ost Indians did not last more than three 'ee!s in the mines. Domen 'ere raped and dis#igured in #ront o# their husbands. *he #avoured #orm o# mutilation 'as to slice chins and noses. )as Casas told ho' one 'oman" seeing the panish armies advancing 'ith their dogs" hanged hersel# 'ith her child. A soldier arrived" cut the child in t'o 'ith his s'ord" gave one hal# to his dogs" then as!ed a #riar to administer last rices so that rhe in#ant 'ould be assured a place in Christ?s heaven. Dith men and 'omen separated #rom each other" desolate and an<ious" the Indians committed suicide in large numbers. Bet'een ;ontaigne?s birth in 8-77 and the publication o# the third boo! o# his :ssays in 8-00" the native population o# the &e' Dorld is estimated to have dropped #rom 00 to 80 million inhabitants. *he panish had butchered the Indians 'ith a clean conscience because they 'ere con#ident that they !ne' 'hat a normal human being 'as. *heir reason told them it 'as someone 'ho 'ore breeches" had one 'i#e" didn?t eat spiders and slept in a bedA %e could understand nothing of their language. their manners and even their features and clothing were far different from ours. %hich of us did not take them for brutes and savages, %hich of us did not attribute their silence to dullness and brutish ignorance, After all, they ... were unaware of our hand(kissings and our low and complex bows. #hey might have seemed like human beings2 'Ah< +ut they wear no breeches . . .' Behind the butchery lay messy reasoning. eparating the normal #rom the abnormal typically proceeds through a #orm o# inductive logic" 'hereby 'e in#er a general la' #rom particular instances Bas logicians 'ould put it" #rom observing that Ai is 0" A2 is 0 and A7 is 0" 'e come to the vie' that ?All As are 0C. ee!ing to @udge 'hether someone is intelligent" 'e loo! #or #eatures common to everyone intelligent 'e have met hitherto. I# 'e met an intelligent person 'ho loo!ed li!e i" another 'ho loo!ed li!e 2" and a third li!e 7" 'e are li!ely to decide that intelligent people read a lot" dress in blac! and loo! rather solemn. *here is a danger 'e 'ill dismiss as stupid" and perhaps later !ill" someone 'ho loo!s li!e 5.

*he Consolations o# Philosophy 9rench travellers 'ho reacted in horror to ,erman stoves in their bedrooms 'ould have !no'n a number o# good #ireplaces in their country be#ore arriving in ,ermany. +ne 'ould perhaps have loo!ed li!e i" another li!e 2" a third li!e 7" and #rom this they 'ould have concluded that the essence o# a good heating system 'as an open hearth. ;ontaigne bemoaned the intellectual arrogance at play. *here 'ere savages in outh AmericaG they 'ere not the ones eating spidersA "very man calls barbarous anything he is noi accustomed FG. we have no other criterion of truth or right(reason than the example and form of the opinions and customs of our own country. #here we always find the perfect religion, the perfect polity, the most developed and perfect way of doing anything< %e 'as not attempting to do a'ay 'ith the distinction bet'een barbarous and civili>edG there 'ere di##erences in value bet'een the customs o# countries Bcultural relativism being as crude as nationalismC. %e 'as correcting the 'ay 'e made the distinction. +ur country might have many virtues" but these did not depend on it being our country. A #oreign land might have many #aults" but these could not be identi#ied through the mere #act that its customs 'ere unusual. &ationality and #amiliarity 'ere absurd criteria by 'hich to decide on the good. 9rench custom had decreed that i# one had an impediment in the nasal passage" one should blo' it into a hand!erchie#. But ;ontaigne had a #riend 'ho" having re#lected on the matter" had come to the vie' that it might be better to blo' ones nose straight into one?s #ingersA 1efending his action ... he asked me why that filthy mucus should be so privileged that we should prepare fine linen to receive it and then should wrap it up and carry it carefully about on our persons ... I considered that what2 he said was not totally unreasonable, but habit had prevented me from noticing &ust that strangeness which we find so hideous in similar customs in another country. Care#ul reasoning rather than pre@udice 'as to be the means o# evaluating behaviour" ;ontaigne?s #rustration caused by those 'ho blithely e=uated the un#amiliar 'ith the inade=uate and so

ignored the most basic lesson in intellectual humility o##ered by the greatest o# the ancient philosophersA #he wisest man that ever was, when asked what he knew, replied that the one thing he did know was that he knew nothing. Dhat" then" should 'e do i# 'e #ind ourselves #acing a veiled suggestion o# abnormality mani#ested in a =ui>>ical" slightly alarmed ?$eallyI %o' 'eirdJ?" accompanied by a raised eyebro'" amounting in its o'n small 'ay to a denial o# legitimacy and humanity - a reaction 'hich ;ontaigne?s #riend had encountered in ,ascony 'hen he ble' his nose into his #ingers" and 'hich had" in its mcsr e<treme #orm" led to the devastation o# the outh American tribesI Perhaps 'e should remember the degree to 'hich accusations o# abnormality are regionally and historically #ounded. *o loosen their hold on us" ?"ve need only e<pose ourselves to the diversity o# customs across time and space. Dhat is considered abnormal in one group at one moment may not" and 'ill not al'ays be deemed so. De may cross borders in our minds.

D%A* I C+& I1:$:1 AB&+$;A) ?S%:$: ;ontaigne had #illed his library 'ith boo!s that helped him cross the borders o# pre@udice. *here 'ere history boo!s" travel @ournals" the reports o# missionaries and sea captains" the literatures o# other lands and illustrated volumes 'ith pictures o# strangely clad tribes eating #ish o# un!no'n names. *hrough these boo!s" ;ontaigne could gain legitimacy #or parts o# himsel# o# 'hich there 'as no evidence in the vicinity - the $oman parts" the ,ree! parts" the sides o# himsel# that 'ere more ;e<ican and *upi than ,ascon" the parts that 'ould have li!ed to have si< 'ives or have a shaved bac! or 'ash t'elve times a dayG he could #eel less alone 'ith these by turning to copies o# *acitus?s Annals" ,oncale> de ;endo>a?s history o# China" ,oulart?s history o# Portugal" )ebels!i?s history o# Persia" )eo A#ricanus?s travels around A#rica" )usignano?s history o# Cyprus" PostelRs collection o# *ur!ish and oriental histories and ;uenster?s universal cosmography B'hich promised pictures o#

?animaul< estranges?C. I# he #elt oppressed by the claims made by others to universal 855 Consolation #or Inade=uacy truth" he could in a similar 'ay line up the theories o# the universe held by all the great ancient philosophers and then 'itness" despite the con#idence o# each thin!er that he 'as in possession o# the 'hole truth" the ludicrous divergence that resulted. A#ter such comparative study" ;ontaigne sarcastically con#essed to having no due 'hether to acceptA #he 'Ideas' of -lato, the atoms of "picurus, the plenum and vacuum of)eudppus and 1emocritus, the water of#hales, the infinity of 0ature of Anaximander, or the aether of 1iogenes, the numbers and symmetry of -ythagoras, the infinity of-annenides, the :nity of*usaeus, the fire and water of Apollodorus, the homogeneous particles of Anaxagoras, )I (. discord and concord of "mpedocles, the fire of 4eraclitus, or any other opinion drawn from the boundless confusion of &udgement and doctrines produced by our fine human reason, with all its certainty and perspicuity. *he discoveries o# ne' 'orlds and ancient te<ts po'er#ully undermined 'hat ;ontaigne described as ?that distressing and combative arrogance 'hich has complete #aith and trust in itsel#?A Anyone who made an intelligent collection of the asinine stupidities of human wisdom would have a wondrous tale to tell.., %e can &udge what we should think of *an, of his sense and of his reason, when we find such obvious and gross errors even in these important characters who have raised human intelligence to great heights. It also helped to have spent seventeen months @ourneying around :urope on horsebac!. *estimony o# other countries and 'ays o# li#e alleviated the oppressive atmosphere o# ;ontaigne?s o'n region. Dhat one society @udged to be strange" another might more sensibly 'elcome as normal. +ther lands may return to us a sense o# possibility stamped out by provincial arroganceG they encourage us to gro' more acceptable to ourselves. *he conception o# the normal proposed by any particular province - Athens" Augsburg" Cu>co" ;e<ico" $ome" eville" ,ascony - has room #or only a #e' aspects o# our nature"

and un#airly consigns the rest to the barbaric and bi>arre. :very man may bear the 'hole #orm o# the human condition" but it seems that no single country can tolerate the comple<ity o# this condition. Among the #i#ty-seven inscriptions that ;ontaigne had painted on the beams o# his library ceiling" 'as a line #rom *erenceA %omo sum" humani a me n>hil alienum puto. I am a man, nothing human is foreign to me. By travelling across #rontiers" on horsebac! and in the imagination" ;ontaigne invited us to e<change local pre@udices and the sel#division they induced #or less constraining identities as citi>ens o# the 'orld. Another consolation #or accusations o# abnormality is #riendship" a #riend being" among other things" someone !ind enough to consider more o# us normal than most people do. De may share @udgements 'ith #riends that 'ould in ordinary company be censured #or being too caustic" se<ual" despairing" da#t" clever or vulnerable #riendship a minor conspiracy against 'hat other people thin! o# as reasonable. )i!e :picurus" ;ontaigne believed #riendship to be an essential component o# happinessA In my &udgement the sweetness of well(matched and compatible fellowship can never cost too dear. 8< a friend< 4ow true is that ancient &udgement, that the frequenting of one is more sweet than the element water, more necessary than the element fire. 9or a time" he 'as #ortunate enough to !no' such #ello'ship. At the age o# t'enty-#ive" he 'as introduced to a r'enry-eight-yearold 'riter and member o# the Bordeau< Parlement" :tienne de )a Boetie. It 'as #riendship at #irst sightA %e were seeking each other before we set eyes on each other because of the repons we had heard ... we embraced each other by our names. And at our first meeting, which chanced to be at a great crowded town(festival, we found ourselves so taken with each other, so well acquainted, so bound together, that from that time on nothing was so close to us as each other. *he #riendship 'as o# a !ind" ;ontaigne believed" that only

occurred once every 700 yearsG it had nothing in common 'ith the tepid alliances #re=uently denoted by the termA %hat we normally call friends and friendships are no more than acquaintances and familiar relationships bound by some chance or some suitability, by means of which our souls support each other. In the friendship which I am talking about, souls are mingled and confounded in so universal a blending that they efface rhe seam which &oins them together so that it cannot be found. *he #riendship 'ould not have been so valuable i# most people had not been so disappointing - i# ;ontaigne had not had to hide so much o# himsel# #rom them. *he depth o# his attachment to )a Boetie signalled the e<tent to 'hich" in his interactions 'ith others" he had been #orced to present only an edited image o# himsel# to avoid suspicion and raised eyebro's. ;any years later" ;ontaigne analysed the source o# his a##ections #or )a BoetieA )uy seul@ouyssoit de ma vraye image. %e alone had the privilege o# my true portrait. *hat is. )a Boetie - uni=uely among ;ontaignePs ac=uaintances understood him properly. %e allo'ed him to be himsel#G through his psychological acuity" he enabled him to be so. %e o##ered scope #or valuable and yet until then neglected dimensions o# ;ontaigne?s character - 'hich suggests that 'e pic! our #riends not only because they are !ind and en@oyable company" but also" perhaps more importantly" because they understand us #or 'ho 'e thin! 'e are. *he idyll 'as pain#ully brie#. 9our years a#ter the #irst meeting" in August 8-.7" )a Boetie #ell ill 'ith stomach cramps and died a #e' days later. *he loss 'as to haunt ;ontaigne #or everA In truth if I compare the rest of my life ... to those four years which I was granted to en&oy the sweet companionship and fellowship of a man like that, it is but smoke and ashes, a night dark and dreary. Since that day when I lost him ... I merely drag wearily on. *hroughout the :ssays" there 'ere e<pressions o# longing #or a soul mate comparable to the dead companion. :ighteen years a#ter )a Beetle?s death" ;ontaigne 'as still visited by periods o# grie#. In ;ay 8-08" in )a Silla near )ucca" 'here he had gone to ta!e the 'aters" he 'rote in his travel @ournal that he had spent an entire day beset by ?pain#ul thoughts about ;onsieur de )a Boetie. I 'as in this mood so long" 'ithout recovering" that it did me much harm.?

%e 'as never to be blessed again in his #riendships" but he discovered the #inest #orm o# compensation. In the :ssays" he recreated in another medium the true portrait o# himsel# that )a Boetie had recogni>ed. %e became himsel# on the page as he had been himsel# in the company o# his #riend. Authorship 'as prompted by disappointment 'ith those in the vicinity" and yet it 'as in#used 'ith the hope that someone else'here 'ould understandG his boo! an address to everyone and no one in particular. %e 'as a'are o# the parado< o# e<pressing his deepest sel# to strangers in boo!shopsA *any things that I would not care to tell any individual man I tell to the public, and for knowledge of my most secret thoughts, I refer my most loyal friends to a bookseller's stall. And yet 'e should be grate#ul #or the parado<. Boo!sellers are the most valuable destination #or the lonely" given the numbers o# boo!s that 'ere 'ritten because authors couldn?t #ind anyone to tal! to. ;ontaigne might have begun 'riting to alleviate a personal sense o# loneliness" but his boo! may serve in a small 'ay to alleviate our o'n. +ne man?s honest" unguarded portrait o# himsel# - in 'hich he mentions impotence and #arting" in 'hich he 'rites o# his dead #riend and e<plains that he needs =uiet 'hen sitting on the toilet enables us to #eel less singular about sides o# ourselves that have gone unmentioned in normal company and normal portraits" but 'hich" it seems" are no less a part o# our reality.

5 +n Intellectual Inade=uacy *here are some leading assumptions about 'hat it ta!es to be a clever personA

Dhat clever people should !no' +ne o# them" re#lected in 'hat is taught in many schools and universities" is that clever people should !no' ho' to ans'er =uestions li!eA i. 9ind the lengths or angles mar!ed < in the #ollo'ing triangles. 2. Dhat are the sub@ect term" predicate term" copula and =uanti#iers Bi# anyC in the #ollo'ing sentencesA 1ogs are man?s best #riendG )ucilius is 'ic!edG All bats are members o# the class o# rodentsG &othing green is in the roomI 7. Dhat is *homas A=uinas?s 9irst Cause argumentI Consoia t ion #or Inade=uacy 5. *ranslateG %aoa *:2S*I <al Aiaoa @-ie+oPocA" oPoicoc oe *tVaPic *Y <al 7*0oaiV:+ic" avaPov *IS+C P=CiYo4ai ++2ZY)- .8. <aIiaCc a6teBBC*Cvav*+ *ayu+ov oP 6*avr? ecpi:rai. B.)aBOC+Vd .e *ICG BOCa)SY*a) *+CS *YP+CS ra p"ev ydg :)+)S :veoyeica" *+" .e 6iao? caroP soya *iva- B-Cv .? ei+) *:P*L *iva *ra.ya *ac 6iodPeicG" ev *+U*+)C peFiioC 6iYZOCi-<e *+CS .?[[veV(eMov *\ eoya.C 6ioFFov oe Il0dP:+CS +U+C+S Fal *Y]S+CS FCll :6*I+**Pt+S 6loFPiCt yiS:*CF) <al *d *eP*L- )BF*Vi<rOP B-lev ydV u(ieiiCi" vaP6**i(l<#ig .e 6tPo*ov" +*Var*i(P##e .e S)F*L" ol<ovopiP#P .e 6*P+SC+C. BAristode" &icomachean :thics" 8 i-ivC -. *ranslateA 6n capitis met levitatem iocatus est et m oculorum valitudinem et in crurum gracilitatem et m sta-t'am. Vuae contumdia est =uod apparel audireI Cora' ?uno ali=uid dictum ridemus" coram pluribus mdignamur" et eorum a?KPs libertatem non relin=uimus" =uae ipsi in nos dicere adsuevimusG 'cis temperate de!ctamur" immodicis

irasdmur. B eneca" 1e Constantsa" FSI. 5C ;ontaigne had #aced many such =uestions and ans'ered them 'ell. %e 'as sent to one o# 9rance?s best educational establishments" the College de ,uyenne in Bordeau<" #ounded in 8-77 to replace the city?s old and inade=uate College des ArcGG. By the time ;ichel started attending classes there at the age o#s?<" the school had developed a national reputation as a centre o# learning. *he sta## included an enlightened principal" Andre de ,ouvea" a reno'ned ,ree! scholar" l-iicolas de ,rouchy" an Aristotelian scholar" ,uillaume ,uerenre" and the cottish poet ,eorge Buchanan. I# one tries to de#ine the philosophy o# education underpinning the College de ,uyenne" or indeed that o# most schools and universities be#ore and a#ter it" one might loosely suggest it to be based on the idea that the more a student leams about the 'orld Bhistory" science" literatureC" the better. But ;ontaigne" a#ter #ollo'ing the curriculum at the College duti#ully until graduation" added an important provisoA If man were wise, he would gauge the true worth of anything by its usefulness and appropriateness to his life. 8nly that which makes us feel better may be worth understanding. *'o great thin!ers o# anti=uity 'ere li!ely to have #eatured prominently in the curriculum at the College de ,uyenne and been held up as e<emplars o# intelligence. tudents 'ould have been introduced to Aristotle?s Prior and Posterior Analytics" in 'hich the ,ree! philosopher pioneered logic" and stated that i# A is predicated o# every B" and B o# every C" necessarily A is predicated o# every C. Aristotle argued that i# a proposition says or denies Po# " then and P are its terms" 'ith P being the predicate term and the sub@ect term" and added that all propositions are either universal or particular" a##irming or denying P o# every or part o# . *hen there 'as the $oman scholar ;arcus *erentius Sarro" 'ho assembled a library #or 6ulius Caesar and 'rote si< hundred boo!s" including an encyclopedia on the liberal arts and t'enty-#ive boo!s on etymology and linguistics. ;ontaigne 'as not unmoved. It is a #eat to 'rite a shel# o# boo!s on the origins o# 'ords and to discover universal a##irmatives. And yet i# 'e 'ere to #ind that those 'ho did so 'ere no happier or 'ere indeed a little more unhappy than rhosc 'ho had never heard o# philosophical logic" 'e might 'onder.

;ontaigne considered the lives o# Aristotle and Sarro" and raised a =uestionA %hat good did their great erudition do for Harro and Aristotle, 1id it free them from human ills, 1id it relieve them of misfortunes such as befall a common porter, Could logic console them for the gout..., *o understand 'hy the t'o men could have been both so erudite and so unhappy" ;ontaigne distinguished bet'een t'o categories o# !no'ledgeA learning and 'isdom. In the category o# learning he placed" among other sub@ects" logic" etymology" grammar" )atin and ,ree!. And in the category o# 'isdom" he placed a #ar broader" more elusive and more valuable !ind o# !no'ledge" everything that could help a person to live 'ell" by 'hich ;ontaigne meanr" help them to live happilv and morally. *he problem 'ith the College de ,uyenne" despite its pro#essional sta## and principal" 'as that it e<celled at imparting learning but #ailed entirely at imparting 'isdom - repeating at an institutional level the errors that had marred the personal lives o# Sarro and AristotleA I gladly come back to the theme of the absurdity of our education2 its end has not been to make us good and wise, but learned. And it has succeeded. It has not taught us to seek virtue and to embrace wisdom2 it has impressed upon us their derivation and then( etymology . . . De readily in=uire" ?1oes he !no' ,ree! or )atinI? ?Can he 'rite poetry and proseI? But 'hat matters most is 'hat 'e put lastA ?%as he become better and 'iserI? De ought to #ind out not 'ho understands most but 'ho understands best. De 'or! merely to #ill the memory" leaving the understanding and the sense oi i-ight and 'rong empty. %e had never been good at sportA ?At dancing" tennis and 'restling I have not been able to ac=uire more than a slight" vulgar s!illG and at s'imming" #encing" vaulting and @umping" no s!ill at all2 &evertheless" so strong 'as ;ontaigne?s ob@ection to the lac! o# 'isdom imparted by most schoolteachers" that he did not shrin! #rom suggesting a drastic alternative to the classroom #or the youth o# 9rance. I# our souls do not move 'ish a better motion and i#-'e do not have a healthier @udgement" then I 'ould @ust as soon that a pupil spend his time playing tennis.

%e 'ould o# course have pre#erred students to go to school" but schools that taught them 'isdom rather than the etymology o# the 'ord and could correct the long-standing intellectual bias to'ards abstract =uestions. *hales #rom ;iletus in Asia ;inor 'as an early e<ample o# the bias" celebrated throughout the ages #or having in the si<th century BC tried to measure the heavens and #or having determined the height o# the ,reat Pyramid o# :gypt according to the theorem o# similar triangles - ?>. complicated and da>>ling achievement" no doubt" but not 'ha.r ;ontaigne 'ished to see dominate his curriculum. %e had greater sympathy 'ith the implicit educational philosophy o# one o#*hales?s impudenr young ac=uaintancesA I have always felt grateful to that girl from *iletus, seeing the local philosopher . . . with his eyes staring upwards, constantly occupied in contemplating the vault of heaven, tripped him up, to warn him that there was time enough to occupy his thoughts with things above the clouds when he had accounted for everything lying before his feet... /ou can make exactly the same reproach as that woman made against #hales against anyone concerned with philosophy. he fails to see what lies before his feet. ;ontaigne noted in other areas a similar tendency to privilege e<traordinary activities over humbler but no less important ones and @ust li!e the girl #rom ;iletus" tried to bring us bac! to earthA Storming a breach, conducting an embassy, ruling a nation are glittering deeds. !ebuking, laughing, buying, selling, loving, hating and living together gently and &ustly with your household ( and with yourself( not getting slack nor being false to yourself, is something more remarkable, more rare and more diuicult. %hatever people may say, such secluded lives sustain in that way duties which arc at least as hard and as tense as those of other lives. o 'hat 'ould ;ontaigne have 'ished pupils to learn at schoolI Dhat !ind o# e<aminations could have tested #or the 'ise intelligence he had in mind" one so #ar removed #rom the mental s!ills o# ihe unhappy Aristotle and SarroI *he e<aminations 'ould have raised =uestions about the challenges o# =uotidian li#eA love" se<" illness" death" children" money and ambition.

An e<amination in ;ontaignean 'isdom 8. About seven or eight years ago" some t'o leagues #rom here" there 'as a villager" 'ho is still aliveG his brPin had long been battered by his 'i#e?s @ealousyG one day he came home #rom 'or! co be 'elcomed by her usual naggingG it made him so mad that" ta!ing the sic!le he still had in his hand he suddenly lopped o## the members 'hich pui her into such a #ever and chuc!ed them in her #ace. B:ssays" 88.248 aC %o' should one settle domestic disputesI bC Das the 'i#e nagging or e<pressing a##ectionI

2. Consider these t'o =uotationsA I 'ant death to #ind me planting my cabbages" neither 'orrying about it nor the un#inished gardening. B:ssays" 8.20C I can scarcely tell my cabbages #rom my lettuces. X:ssays" II.iyC Dhat is a 'ise approach to deathI

7. It is perhaps a more chaste and #ruit#ul practice to bring 'omen to leam early 'hat the living reality Ko# perns si>eL is rather than to allo' them to ma!e con@ectures according to the licence o# a heated imaginationA instead o# our organs as they are" their hopes and desires lead them to substitute e<travagant ones three times as big . . . Dhat great harm is done by thoG-"e gra##iti o# enormous genitals 'hich boys scatter over the corridors and staircases o# our royal palacesJ 9rom them arises a cruel misunderstanding o# our natural capacities. X:ssays" III.-C %o' should a man 'ith a small ?living reality? bring up the sub@ectI

5. 8 !no' o# a s=uire 'ho had entertained a goodly company in his hall and then" #our or #ive days later" boasted as a @o!e B#or there 'as no truth in itC that he had made them eat cat pieG one o# the

young ladies in the party 'as struc! 'ith such a horror at this that she collapsed 'ith a serious stomach disorder and a #everA it 'as impossible to save her. B:ssays" 8.28C Analyse the distribution o# moral responsibility.

-. I# only tal!ing to onesel# did sAot loo! mad" no day 'ould go by 'ithout my being heard gro'ling to mysel#" against mysel#" ?(ou silly shitJ? B:ssays" 8.70C *he most uncouth o# our a##lictions is to despise our being. B:ssays" III.yC %o' much love should one have #or onesel#I etting people e<amination papers measuring 'isdom rather than learning 'ould probably result in an immediate realignment o# the hierarchy o# intelligence - and a surprising ne' elite. ;ontaigne delighted in the prospect o# the incongruous people 'ho 'ould no' be recogni>ed as cleverer than the lauded but o#ten un'orthy traditional candidates. I have seen in my time hundreds of craftsmen and ploughmen wiser and happier than university rectors.

Dhat clever people should sound and loo! li!e It is common to assume that 'e are dealing 'ith a highly intelligent boo! 'hen 'e cease to understand it. Pro#ound ideas cannot" a#ter all" be e<plained in the language o# children. (et the association bet'een di##iculty and pro#undity might less generously be described as a mani#estation in the literary sphere o# a perversity #amiliar #rom emotional li#e" 'here people 'ho are mysterious and elusive can inspire a respect in modest minds that reliable and clear ones do not. ;ontaigne had no =ualms bluntly admitting his problem 'ith mysterious boo!s. #J cannot have lengthy commerce 'ith KthemL2 he 'rote"rJ only li!e pleasurable" easy KonesL 'hich tic!le my interest.?

I am not prepared to bash my brains #or anything" not even #or learning?s sa!e" ho'ever precious it may be. 9rom boo!s all I see! is to give mysel# pleasure by an honourable pastime ... I# I come across di##icult passages in my reading I never bite my nails over themA a#ter ma!ing a charge or t'o I let them be ... I# one boo! 'earies me i ta!e up another. Dhich 'as nonsense" or rather play#ul posturing on the part o# a man 'ith a thousand volumes on his shel# and an encyclopedic !no'ledge o# ,ree! and )atin philosophy. I# ;ontaigne en@oyed presenting himsel# as a dim gentleman prone to somnolence during philosophical e<positions" it 'as disingenuousness 'ith a purpose. *he repeated declarations o# la>iness and slo'ness 'ere tactical 'ays to undermine a corrupt understanding o# intelligence and good 'riting. *here are" so ;ontaigne implied" no legitimate reasons 'hy boo!s in the humanities should be di##icult or boringG 'isdom does not re=uire a speciali>ed vocabulary or synta<" nor does an audience bene#it #rom being 'earied. Care#ully used" boredom can be a valuable indicator o# the merit o# boo!s. *hough it can never be a su##icient @udge Band in its more degenerate #orms" slips into 'il#ul indi##erence and impatienceC" ta!ing our levels o# boredom into account can temper an other'ise e<cessive tolerance #or balderdash. *hose 'ho do not listen to their boredom 'hen reading" li!e those 'ho pay no attention to pain" may be increasing their su##ering unnecessarily. Dhatever the dangers o# being 'rongly bored" there are as many pit#alls in never allo'ing ourselves to lose patience 'ith our reading matter. :very di##icult 'or! presents us 'ith a choice o# 'hether to @udge the author inept #or not being clear" or ourselves stupid #or not grasping 'hat is going on. ;ontaigne encouraged us to blame the author. An incomprehensible prose-style is li!ely to have resulted more #rom la>iness than clevernessG 'hat reads easily is rarely so 'ritten. +r else such prose mas!s an absence o# contentG being incomprehensible o##ers unparalleled protection against having nothing to sayA 1i##iculty is a coin 'hich the learned con@ure 'ith so as not to reveal ihe vanity o# their studies and 'hich human stupidity is !een to accept in payment. *here is no reason #or philosophers to use 'ords that 'ould sound out o# place in a street or mar!etA

9ust as in dress ir is the sign of a petty mind to seek to draw attention by some personal or unusual fashion, so too in speech. the search tor new expressions and little(known words derives from an adolescent schoolmasterish ambition. If only I could limit myself to words used in )es 4allcs in -ans. But 'riting 'ith simplicity re=uires courage" #or there is a danger that one 'ill be overloo!ed" dismissed as simpleminded by those 'ith a tenacious belie# that impassable prose is a hallmar! o# intelligence. o strong is this bias" ;ontaigne 'ondered 'hether the ma@ority o# university scholars 'ould have appreciated ocrates" a man they pro#essed to revere above all others" i# he had approached chem in their o'n to'ns" devoid o# the prestige o# Plato?s dialogues" in his dirty cloa!" spea!ing in plain languageA #he portrait of the conversations of Socrates which his friends have bequeathed to us receives our approbation only because we are overawed by the general approval of them. It is not from our own knowledge. since they do not follow our practices2 if something like them were to be produced nowadays there are few who would rate them highly. %e can appreciate no graces which are not pointed, inflated and magnified by artifice. Such graces as flow on under the name ofnaivety and simplicity readily go unseen by so coarse an insight as ours . . . ?or us, is not naivety close kin to simplemindedness and a quality worthy of reproach, Socrates makes his soul move with the natural motion of the common people2 thus speaks a peasant. thus speaks a woman . . . 4is induc( tions and comparisons are drawn from the most ordinary and best( known of men's activities. anyone can understand him. :nder so common a form we today would never have deemed me nobility and splendour of his astonishing concepts. %e who &udge any which are not swollen up by erudition to be base and common( place and who are never aware of riches except when pompously paraded. It is a plea to ta!e boo!s seriously" even 'hen their language is unintimidating and their ideas clear - and" by e<tension" to re#rain #rom considering ourselves as #ools i#" because o# a hole in our budget or our education" our cloa!s are simple and our vocabulary no larger than that o# a stallholder in )es %alles.

Dhat clever people should !no' *hey should !no' the #acts" and i# they do not and i# they have in addition been so #oolish as to get these 'rong in a boo!" they should e<pect no mercy #rom scholars" 'ho 'ill be @usti#ied in slapping them do'n" and pointing out" 'ith supercilious civility" that a date is 'rong or a 'ord mis=uoted" a passage is out o# conte<t or an important source #orgotten. (et in ;ontaigne?s schema o# intelligence" 'hat matters in a boo! is use#ulness and appropriareness to li#eG it is less valuable to convey 'ith precision 'hat Plato 'rote or :picurus meant than to @udge 'he. .er 'hat they have said is interesting and could in the early hou- - help us over an<iety or loneliness. *he responsibility o# authors in the humanities is not to =uasi-scienti#ic accuracy" but to happiness and health" ;ontaigne vented his irritation 'ith those 'ho re#used the pointA #he scholars whose concern it is to past. &udgement on books recogni e no worth but that of learning am I allow no intellectual activity other than that of scholarship and erudition. *istake one Scipio for the other, and you have nothing left worth saying, have you< According to them, fail to know your Aristotle and you fail to know yourself. *he :ssays 'ere themselves mar!ed by #re=uent mis=uotations" misattributions" illogical s'erves o# argument and a #ailure to de#ine terms. *he author 'asn?t botheredA I do my writing at home, deep in the country, where nobody c,(i.n help or correct me and where I normally never frequent anybody 'ho !no's even the )atin o# the )ord?s prayer let alone proper 9rencii. &aturally there 'ere errors in the boo! B* am #ull o# them"? he boastedC" but they 'eren?t enough to doom the :ssays" @ust as accuracy could not ensure rheir 'orth. It 'as a greater sin to 'rite something 'hich did not attempt to be 'ise than to con#use dpio Aemilianus Bc. 80--824 BCC 'ith cipio A#hcanus B27.-807 BCC. Dhere clever people should get their ideas #rom 9rom people even cleverer than they are. *hey should spend their

time =uoting and producing commentaries about great authorities 'ho occupy the upper rungs o# the tree o# !no'ledge. *hey should 'rite treatises on the moral thought o# Plato or the ethics o# Cicero. ;ontaigne o'ed much to the idea. *here 'ere #re=uent passages o# commentary in the :ssays" and hundreds o# =uotations #rom authors 'ho ;ontaigne #elt had captured points more elegantly and more acutely than he 'as able to. %e =uoted Plato 820 times" )ucretius 854 and eneca 870. It is tempting to =uote authors 'hen they e<press our very o'n thoughts but 'ith a clarity and psychological accuracy 'e cannot match. *hey !no' us better than 'e !no' ourselves. Dhat is shy and con#used in us is succinctly and elegantly phrased in them" our pencil lines and annotations in the margins o# their boo!s and our borro'ings #rom them indicating 'here 'e #ind a piece o# ourselves" a sentence or t'o built o# the very substance o# 'hich our o'n minds are made - a congruence all the more stri!ing i# the 'or! 'as 'ritten in an age o# togas and animal sacri#ices. De ma!e these 'ords into our boo!s as a homage #or reminding us o# 'ho 'e are. But rather than illuminating our e<periences and goading us on to our o'n discoveries" great boo!s may come to cast a problematic shado'. *hey may lead us to dismiss aspects o# our lives o# 'hich there is no printed testimony. 9ar #rom e<panding our hori>ons" they may un@ustly come to mar! their limits. ;ontaigne !ne' one man 'ho seemed to have bought his bibliophilia too dearlyA %henever I ask 6this7 aquaintance of mine to tell me what he knows about sumethm,2., he wants to show me a book2 he would not venture to tell me that he has scabs on his arse without studying his lexicon to find out the meanings of scab and arse. uch reluctance to trust our o'n" e<tra-literary" e<periences might not be grievous i# boo!s could be relied upon to e<press all our potentialities" i# they !ne' all our scabs. But as ;ontaigne recogni>ed" the great boo!s are silent on too many themes" so that i# 'e allo' them to de#ine the boundaries o# our curiosity" they 'ill hold bac! the development o# our minds. A meeting in Italy crystalli>ed the issueA In -isa I met a decent man who is such an Aristotelian that the most basic of his doctrines is that the touchstone and the measuring(scale of all sound ideas and of each and every truth must lie in

conformity with the teachings of Aristotle, outside of which all is inane and chimerical2 Aristotle has seen everything, done everything. %e had" o# course" done and seen a lot. +# all the thin!ers o# anti=uity" Aristotle 'as perhaps the most comprehensive" his 'or!s ranging over the landscape o# !no'ledge B+n ,eneration ami Corruption" +n the %eavens" ;eteorology" +n the oul" Parts o# Animals" ;ovements o# Animals" ophistical $e#utations" &icomachean :thics" Physics" PoliticsC. But the very scale o# Aristotle?s achievement be=ueathed a problematic legacy. *here are authors too clever #or our o'n good. %aving said so much" they appear to have had the last 'ord. *heir genius inhibits the ?-A. Pnse o# irreverence vital to creative 'or! in their successors. Ari.tode may" parado<ically" prevent those 'ho most respect him #rom behaving li!e him. %e rose to greatness only by doubting much o# the !no'ledge that had been built up be#ore him" not by re#using to read Plato or %craclitus" but by mounting a salient criti=ue o# some o# their 'ea!nesses based on an appreciation o# their strengths. *o act in a truly Aristotelian spirit" as ;ontaigne reali>ed and the man #rom Pisa did not" may mean allo'ing #or some intelligent departures #rom even the most accomplished authorities. (et it is understandable to pre#er to =uote and 'rite commentaries rather than spea! and thin! #or ourselves. A commentary on a boo! 'ritten by someone else" though technically laborious to produce" re=uiring hours o# research and e<egesis" is immune #rom the most cruel attac!s that can be#all original 'or!s. Commentators may be critici>ed #or #ailing to do @ustice to the ideas o# great thin!ersG they cannot be held responsible #or the ideas themselves 'hich 'as a reason 'hy ;ontaigne included so many =uotations and passages o# commentary in the :ssays?. I sometimes get others to say 'hat I cannot put so 'ell mysel# because o# the 'ea!ness o# my language" and sometimes because o# the 'ea!ness o# my intellect ... KandL sometimes ... to rein in Khe temerity o# those hasty criticisms ?'hich leap to attac! 'ritings o# every !ind" especially recent 'ritings by men still alive . .. I have to hide my 'ea!nesses beneath those great reputations. It is stri!ing ho' much more seriously 'e are li!ely to be ta!en a#ter 'e have been dead a #e' centuries. tatements 'hich might be acceptable 'hen they issue #rom the =uills o# ancient authors are li!ely to attract ridicule 'hen e<pressed by contemporaries.

Critics are not inclined to bo' be#ore the grander pronouncements o# those 'ith 'hom they attended university. It is not these individuals 'ho 'ill be allo'ed to spea! as though they 'ere ancient philosophers. ?&o man has escaped paying the penalty #or being born2 'rote eneca" but a man struc! by a similar sentiment in later ages 'ould not be advised to spea! li!e this unless he mani#ested a particular appetite #or humiliation. ;ontaigne" 'ho did noi" too! shelter" and at the end o# the :ssays" made a con#ession" touching #or its vulnerabilityA If I had had confidence to do what I really wanted, I would have spoken utterly alone, come what may I# he lac!ed con#idence" it 'as because the closer one came to him in time and place" the less his thoughts 'ere li!ely to be treated as though they might be as valid as those o# eneca and PlatoG In my o'n climate o# ,ascony" they #ind it #unny to see me in print. I am valued the more the #arther #rom home !no'ledge o# me has spread. In the behaviour o# his #amily and sta##" those 'ho heard him snoring or changed the bedlinen" there 'as none o# the reverence o# his Parisian reception" let alone his posthumous oneA A man may appear to the world as a marvel2 yet his wife and his manservant see nothing remarkable about him. ?ew men have been wonders to their families. De may ta!e this in t'o 'aysA that no one is genuinely marvellous" but that only #amilies and sta## are dose enough to discern the disappointing truth. +r that many people are interesting" but that i# they are too close to us in age and place" 'e are li!ely not to ta!e them too seriously" on account o# a curious bias against 'hat is at hand. ;ontaigne 'as not pitying himsel#G rather" he 'as using the criticism o# more ambitious contemporary 'or!s as a symptom o# a deleterious impulse to thin! that the truth al'ays has to lie #ar #rom us" in another climate" in an ancient library" in the boo!s o# people 'ho lived long ago. It is a =uestion o# 'hether access to genuinely valuable things is limited to a hand#ul o# geniuses born bet'een the construction o# the Parthenon and the sac! o# $ome" or 'hether" as ;ontaigne daringly proposed" they may be open to you and me as 'ell.

A highly peculiar source o# 'isdom 'as being pointed out" more peculiar still than Pyrrho?s sea#aring pig" a *upi Indian or a ,ascon ploughmanA the reader. I# 'e attend properly to our e<periences and learn to consider ourselves plausible candidates #or an intellectual li#e" it is" implied ;ontaigne" open to all o# us to arrive at insights no less pro#ound than those in the great ancient boo!s. *he thought is not easy. De are educated to associate virtue 'ith submission to te<tual authorities" rather than 'ith an e<ploration o# the volumes daily transcribed 'ithin ourselves by our perceptual mechanisms. ;ontaigne tried to return us to ourselvesA De !no' ho' to say" ?*his is 'hat Cicero said?G *his is morality #or Plato?G *hese are the ipsissima verba o# Aristotle.? But 'hat have 'e got to sayI Dhat @udgements do 'e ma!eI Dhat are 'e doingI A parrot could ral! as 'ell as 'e do. Parroting 'ouldn?t be the scholars 'ay o# describing 'hat it ta!es to 'rite a commentary. A range o# arguments could sho' the value outproducing an e<egesis on the moral thought o# Plato or the ethics o# Cicero. ;ontaigne emphasi>ed the co'ardice and tedium in the activity instead. *here is little s!ill in secondary 'or!s B?Invention ta!es incomparably higher precedence over =uotation?C" the di##iculty is technical" a matter o# patience and a =uiet library. 9urthermore" many o# the boo!s 'hich academic tradition encourages us to parrot are not #ascinating in themselves. *hey are accorded a central place in the syllabus because they are the 'or! o# prestigious authors" 'hile many e=ually or #ar more valid themes languish because no grand intellectual authority ever elucidated them. *he relation o# art to reality has long been considered a serious philosophical topic" in part because Plato #irst raised itG the relation o# shyness to personal appearance has not" in part because it did not attract the attention o# any ancient philosopher. In light o# this unnatural respect #or tradition" ;ontaigne thought it 'orth 'hile to admit to his readers that" in truth" he thought Plato could be limited and dullA %ill the licence of our age excuse my audacious sacrilege in thinking that 6his7 1ialogues drag slowly along stifling his matter, and in lamenting the time spent on those long useless prepara( tory discussions by a man who had so many better things to say, BA relie# to come upon this thought in ;ontaigne" one prestigious

'riter lending credence to timid" silent suspicions o# another.C As #or Cicero" there 'as no need even to apologi>e be#ore attac!ingA 4is introductory passages, his definitions, his sub(divisions and his etymologies eat up most of his work ... If I spend an hour reading hini Cwhich is a lot for meD and then recall what pith and substance I have got out of him, most of the time I find nothing but wind. I# scholars paid such attention to the classics" it 'as" suggested ;ontaigne" #rom a vainglorious 'ish to be thought intelligent through association 'ith prestigious names. *he result #or the reading public 'as a mountain o# very learned" very un'ise boo!sA #here are more books on books than on any other sub&ect2 all we do is gloss each other. All is a(swarm with commentaries2 of authors there is a dearth. But interesting ideas are" ;ontaigne insisted" to be #ound in every li#e. %o'ever modest our stories" 'e can dome greater insights #rom ourselves than #rom all the boo!s o# oldG %ere I a good scholar, I would find enough in my own experience to make me wise. %hoever recalls to mind his last bout of anger . . . sees the ugliness of this passion better than in Aristotle. Anyone who recalls the ills he has undergone, those which have threatened him and the trivial incidents which have moved him from one condition to another, makes himself thereby ready for future mutations and the exploring of his condition. "ven the life of Caesar is less exemplary for us than our own. a life whether imperil or plebeian is always a life affected by everything that can happen to a man. +nly an intimidating scholarly culture sna!es us thin! other'iseA %e are richer than we think, each one of us.

De may all arrive at 'ise ideas i# 'e cease to thin! or ourselves as so unsuited to the tas! because vve aren?t 2"000 years old" aren?t interested in Plato?s dialogues and live =uietly in the countryA (ou can attach the 'hole o# moral philosophy to a commonplace

private li#e @ust as 'ell as to one o# richer stu##. It 'as perhaps to bring the point home that ;ontaigne o##ered so much in#ormation on e<actly ho' commonplace and private his o'n li#e had been - 'hy he 'anted to tell usA #hat he didn't like apples2 I am not overfond ... of any fruit except melons. #hat he had a complex relationship with radishes2 I first of all found that radishes agreed with me. then they did not. now they do again. #hat he practised the most advanced dental hygiene2 *y teeth .. . have always been exceedingly good .. . Since boyhood I learned to rub them on my napkin, both on waking up and before and after meals. #hat he ate too fast2 In my haste I onenbitemy tongue and occasionally my fingers. And liked wiping his mouth2 I could dine easily enough without a tablecloth, but I feel very uncomfortable dining without a clean napkin ... I regret that we have not continued along the lines of the fashion starred by our kings, changing napkins likes plates with each course. *rivia" perhaps" but symbolic reminders that there 'as a thin!ing ?I? behind his boo!" that a moral philosophy had issued - and so could issue again - #rom an ordinary" #ruit-resistant soul. *here is no need to be discouraged i#" #rom the outside" 'e ioo! nothing li!e those 'ho have ruminated in the past. In ;ontaigne?s redra'n portrait o# the ade=uate" semi-rational human being" it is possible to spea! no ,ree!" #art" change one?s mind a#ter a meal" get bored 'ith boo!s" !no' none o# the ancient philosophers and mista!e cipios. A virtuous" ordinary li#e" striving #or 'isdom but never #ar #rom #olly" is achievement enough.

S Consolation #or a Bro!en %eart 9or the grie#s o# love" he may be the #inest among philosophersA

8300 Arthur chopenhauer is born in 1an>ig. In later years" he loo!s bac! on the event 'ith regretA ?De can regard our li#e as a uselessly disturbing episode in the bliss#ul repose o# nothingness human e<istence must be a !ind o# error"? he speci#ies" ?it may be said o# it" EIt is bad today and every day it 'ill get 'orse" until the 'orst o# all happens.E ? chopenhauer?s #ather %eindch" a 'ealthy merchant" and his mother 6ohanna" a di>>y socialite t'enty years her husband?s @unior" ta!e little interest in their son" 'ho gro's into one o# the greatest pessimists in the history o# philosophyA ?:ven as a child o# si<" my parents" returning #rom a 'al! one evening" #ound me in deep despair.? 8007-- A#ter the apparent suicide o# his #ather Bdiscovered #loating in a canal beside the #amily 'arehouseC" the seventeen-year-old chopenhauer is le#t 'ith a #ortune that ensures he 'ill never have to 'or!. *he thought a##ords no com#ort. %e later recallsA 'In my seventeenth year, without any learned school education, I was gripped by the misery of life as +uddha was in his youth when he saw sickness, old age, pain and death. #he truth . . . was that this world could not have been the work of an all(loving +eing, but rather that of a devil, who had brought creatures into existence in order to delight in the sight of their sufferings. to this the data pointed, and the belief that it is so won the upper hand.' chopenhauer is sent to )ondon to learn :nglish at a boardingschool" :agle %ouse in Dimbledon. A#ter receiving a letter #rom him" his #riend )oren> ;eyer replies" rJ am sorry that your stay in :ngland has induced you to hate the entire nation.? 1espite the hatred" he ac=uires an almost per#ect command o# the language" and is o#ten mista!en #or an :nglishman in conversation.

chopenhauer travels through 9rance" he visits the city o# &imes" to 'hich" 8"000 or so years be#ore" $oman engineers had piped 'ater across the ma@estic Pont du Card to ensure that citi>ens 'ould al'ays have enough 'ater to bathe in. chopenhauer is unimpressed by 'hat he sees o# the $oman remainsA ?*hese traces soon lead one?s thoughts to the thousands o# long-decomposed humans.? chopenhauer?s mother complains other son?s passion #or ?pondering on human misery?. 8004-8088 chopenhauer studies at the university o# ,otringen and decides to become a philosopherA ?)i#e is a sorry business" I have resolved to spend it re#lecting upon it.? +n an e<cursion to the countryside" a male #riend suggests they should attempt to meet 'omen. chopenhauer =uashes the plan" arguing that li#e is so short" =uestionable and evanescent that it is not 'orth the trouble o# ma@or e##ort.? 8087 %e visits his mother in Deimar. 6ohanna chopenhauer has be#riended the to'n?s most #amous resident" 6ohann Dol#gang von ,oethe" 'ho visits her regularly Band li!es tal!ing 'ith ophie" 6ohanna?s housemaid" and Adele" Arthurs younger sisterC. A#ter an initial meeting" chopenhauer describes ,oethe as ?serene" sociable" obliging" #riendlyA praised be his name #or ever and everJ? ,oethe reports. *oung chopenhauer appeared to me to be a strange and interesting young man2 Arthur?s #eelings #or the 'riter are never 'holly reciprocated. Dhen the philosopher leaves Deimar" ,oethe composes a couplet #or himA Dillst du dich des )cbens#reuen" o musst der Delt dQQ Derth verleihen. If you wish to draw pleasure out of life, /ou must attach value to the world. chopenhauer is unimpressed" and in his noteboo! beside ,oethe?s tip" appends a =uotation #rom Cham#ortA 38 vaut mieu< laisser les hommes pour ec =uits sont" =ue les prendre pour ce =n?ils ne sont pas.? BBetter to accept men #or 'hat rhcv are" than to ta!e them to be 'hat they are not.C 8085-8- chopenhauer moves to 1resden and 'rites a thesis B+n the 9our#old $oot o# the Principle o# u##icient $easonC. %e has #e' #riends and enters into conversations 'ith reduced e<pectationsA

? ometimes I spea! to men and 'omen @ust as a little girl spea!s to her doll. he !no's" o# course" that the doll does not understand her" but she creates #or hersel# the @oy o# communication through a pleasant and conscious sel#-deception2 %e becomes a regular in an Italian tavern" 'hich serves his #avourite meats - Senetian salami" tru##led sausage and Parma ham. 8080 %e #inishes *he Dorld as Dill and $epresentation" 'hich he !no's to be a masterpiece. It e<plains his lac! o# #riendsA ?A man o# genius can hardly be sociable" #or 'hat dialogues could indeed be so intelligent and entertaining as his o'n monologuesI? 8080-84 *o celebrate the completion o# his boo!" chopenhauer travels to Italy. %e delights in art" nature and the climate" though his mood remains #ragileA ?De should al'ays be mind#ul o# the #act that no man is ever very #ar #rom the state in 'hich he 'ould readily 'ant to sei>e a s'ord or poison in order to bring his e<istence to an endG and those 'ho are #ar #rom believing this could easily be convinced o# the opposite by an accident" an illness" a violent change o# #ortune - or o# the 'eather2 %e visits 9lorence" $ome" &aples and Senice and meets a number o# attractive 'omen at receptionsA rJ 'as very #ond o# them - i# only they 'ould have had me2 $e@ection helps to inspire a vie' thatA ?+nly the male intellect" clouded by the se<ual impulse" could call the undersi>ed" narro'-shouldered" broad hipped" and short-legged se< the #air se<.? 8084 *he Dorld as Dill c-nd $epresentation is published. It sells 270 copies. ?:very li#e history is a history o# su##ering?G *#only I could get rid o# the illusion ol regarding the generation o# vipers and toads as my e=uals" it 'ould be a great help to me.? 8020 chopenhauer attempts to gain a university post in philosophy in Berlin. %e o##ers lectures on *he 'hole o# philosophy" i.e. the theory o# the essence o# the 'orld and o# the human mind.? 9ive students attend. In a nearby building" his rival" %egel" can be heard lecturing to an audience o# 700. chopenhauer assesses %egel?s philosophyA ?KILts #undamental ideas are the absurdest #ancy" a 'orld turned upside do'n" a philosophical bu##oonery .. . its contents being the hollo'est and most senseless display o# E'ords ever lapped up by bloc!heads" and its presentation . .. being the most repulsive and nonsensical gibberish" recalling the rantings o# a bedlamite.? *he beginnings o# disenchantment 'ith academiaA '#hat one can be serious about philosophy has as a rule not occurred to anyone, least of all to a lecturer on philosophy, &ust as

no one as a rule believes less in Christianity than does the -ope.' 8028 chopenhauer #alls in love 'ith Caroline ;edon" a nineteenyear-old singer. *he relationship lasts intermittently #or ten years. but chopenhauer has no 'ish to #ormali>e the arrangementA *c marry means to do everything possible to become an ob@ect o# disgust to each other.? %e nevertheless has #ond thoughts o# polygamyA ?+# the many advantages o# polygamy" one is that the husband 'ould not come into such close contact 'ith his in-la's" the #ear o# 'hich at present prevents innumerable marriages. *en mothers-in-la' instead o# oneJ? 8022 *ravels to Italy #or a second time B;ilan" 9lorence" SeniceC. Be#ore setting out" he as!s his #riend 9riedrich +sann to loo! out #or any mention o# me in boo!s" @ournals" literary periodicals and such li!e +sann does not #ind the tas! time-consuming. 802- %aving #ailed as an academic" chopenhauer attempts to become a translator. But his o##ers to turn Mant into :nglish and *ristram handy mto ,erman are re@ected by publishers. %e con#ides in a letter a melancholy 'ish to have ?a position in bourgeois society?" though 'ill never attain one. *# a ,od has made this 'orld" then I 'ould not li!e to be the ,odG its misery and distress 'ould brea! my heart.? 9ortunately" he can rely on a com#ortable sense o# his o'n 'orth in dar!er momentsA ?%o' o#ten must I leam ... that in the a##airs o# everyday li#e . . . my spirit and mind are 'hat a telescope is in an opera-house or a cannon at a harehuntI? 8020 *urns #orty. ?A#ter his #ortieth year2 he consoles himsel#" ?any man o# merit . . . 'ill hardly be #ree #rom a certain touch o# misanthropy.? 8078 &o' #orty-three" living in Berlin" chopenhauer thin!s once again o# getting married. %e turns his cittentions to 9lora Deiss" a beauti#ul" spirited girl 'ho has @ust turned seventeen. 1uring a boating parry" in an attempt to charm her" he smiles and o##ers her a bunch o# 'hite grapes. 9lora later con#ides in her diaryA ?I didn?t 'ant them. I #elt revolted because old chopenhauer had touched them" and so I let them slide" =uite gently" into the 'ater behind me.E chopenhauer leaves Berlin in a hurryA ?)i#e has no genuine intrinsic 'orth" but is !ept in motion merely by 'ant and illusion2 8077 %e settles in a modest apartment in 9ran!#urt am ;ain" a to'n o# some -0"000 inhabitants. %e describes the city" the ban!ing centre o# continental :urope" as ?a small" sti##" internally crude" municipally pu##ed-up" peasant-proud nation o#Abderites" 'hom I

do not li!e to approach?. %is closest relationships are no' 'ith a succession o# poodles" 'ho he #eels have a gentleness and humility humans lac!A ?*he sight o# any animal immediately gives me pleasure and gladdens my heart.? %e lavishes a##ection on these poodles" addressing them as ? ir?" and ta!es a !een interest in animal 'el#areA *he highly intelligent dog" man?s truest and most #aith#ul #riend" is put on a chain by himJ &ever do I see such a dog 'ithout #eelings o# the deepest sympathy #or him and o# pro#ound indignation against his master. I thin! 'ith satis#action o# a case" reported some years ago in *he *imes" 'here )ord F !ept a large dog on a chain. +ne day as he 'as 'al!ing through the yard" he too! it into his head to go and pat the dog" 'hereupon the animal tore his arm open #rom top to bottom" and =uite right" tooJ Dhat he meant by this 'asA E(ou are not my master" but my deviL 'ho ma!es a hell o# my brie# e<istenceJE ;ay this happen to all 'ho chain up dogs.? *he philosopher adopts a rigid daily routine. %e 'rites #or three hours in the morning" plays the #lute B$ossmiC #or an hour" then dresses in 'hite tie #or lunch in the :nglischer %ot on the $ossmar!t. %e has an enormous appetite" and tuc!s a large 'hite nap!in into his collar. %e re#uses to ac!no'ledge other diners 'hen eating" but occasionally enters into conversation over co##ee. +ne o# them describes him as ?comically disgruntled" but in #act harmless and good-nature dly gru##?. Another reports that chopenhauer #re=uently boasts o# the e<cellent condition o# his teeth as evidence that he is superior to other people" or as he puts it" superior to the ?common biped?. A#ter lunch" chopenhauer retires to the library o# his club" the nearby Casino ociety" 'here he reads *he *imes - the ne'spaper 'hich he #eels 'ill best in#orm him o# the miseries o# the 'orld. In mid-a#ternoon" he ta!es a t'o-hour 'al! 'ith his dog along the ban!s o# the ;ain" muttering under his breath. In the evening" he visits the opera or the theatre" 'here he is o#ten enraged by the noise o# late-comers" shu##lers and coughers - and 'rites to the authorities urging strict measures against them. *hough he has read and much admires eneca" he does not agree 'ith the $oman philosopher?s verdict on noiseG ?I have #or a long time been o# the opinion that the =uantity o# noise anyone can com#ortably endure is in inverse proportion to his menial po'ers . . . *he man 'ho habitually siams doors instead o# shutting them 'ith the hand ... is not merely ill-mannered" but also coarse and narro'-minded . . . De shall be =uite civili>ed only 'hen ... it is no longer anyone?s

right to cut through the consciousness o# every thin!ing being . . . by means o# 'histling" ho'ling" bello'ing" hammering" 'hipcrac!ing ... and so on.? 8050 %e ac=uires a ne' 'hite poodle and names her Atma" a#ter the 'orld-soul o# the Brahmins. %e is attracted to :astern religions in general and Brahmanism in particular Bhe reads a #e' pages o# the Upanishads every nightC. %e describes Brahmins as" ?the noblest and oldest o# people?" and threatens to sac! his cleaning 6ady" ;argaretha chnepp" 'hen she disregards orders not to dust the Buddha in his study. %e spends increasing amounts o# time alone. %is mother 'orries about himA ?*'o months in your room 'ithout seeing a single person" that is not good" my son" and saddens me" a man cannot and should not isolate himsel# in that manner.? %e ta!es to sleeping #or e<tended periods during the dayA *#li#c and e<istence 'ere an en@oyable state" then everyone 'ould reluctantly approach the unconscious state o# sleep and 'ould gladly rise #rom it again. But the very opposite is the case" #or everyone very 'illingly goes to sleep and un'illingly gets up again.? %e @usti#ies his appetite #or sleep by comparing himsel# to t'o o# his #avourite thin!ersA '4uman beings require more sleep the more developed .. . and the more active their brain is. *ontaigne relates of himself that he had always been a heavy sleeper. that he had spent a large part of his life in sleeping. and that at an advanced age he still slept from eight to nine hours at a stretch. It is also reported of 1escartes that he slept a great deal.' 8057 chopenhauer moves to a ne' house in 9ran!#urt" number 83 chone Aussicht" near the river ;ain in the centre o# to'n B:nglish translationA Pretty vie'C. %e is to live in the street #or the rest o# his li#e" though in 80-4" he moves to number 8. a#ter a =uarrel 'ith his landlord over his dog. 8055 %e publishes a second edition and a #urther volume o# *he Dorld as Dill and. $epresentation. %e remar!s in the pre#aceA ?&ot to my contemporaries or my compatriots" but to man!ind I consign my no' complete 'or!" con#ident that it 'ill not be 'ithout value to humanity" even i# this value should be recogni>ed only tardily" as is the inevitable #ate o# the good in 'hatever #orm2 *he 'or! sells under 700 copiesA ?+ur greatest pleasure consists in being admiredG but the admirers" even i# there is every cause" are not very !een to e<press their admiration. And so the happiest man is he 'ho has managed sincerely to admire himsel#" no matter

ho'.? 80-0 Atma dies. %e buys a bro'n poodle called But>" 'ho becomes his #avourite poodle. Dhen a regimental band passes his house" chopenhauer is !no'n to stand up in the middle o# conversations and put a seat by the 'indo' #rom 'hich But> can loo! out. *he creature is re#erred to by the children o# the neighbourhood [P ?young chopenhauer?. 80-8 Epublishes a selection o# essays and aphorisms" Parerga and Paralipomena. ;uch to the author?s surprise" the boo! becomes a bestseller. 80-7 %is #ame spreads across :urope B?the comedy o# #ame?" as he puts itC. )ectures on his philosophy are o##ered at the universities o# Bonn" Breslau and 6ena. %e receives #an mail. A 'oman #rom ilesia sends him a long" suggestive poem. A man #rom Bohemia 'rites to tell him he places a 'reath on his portrait every day. ?A#ter one has spent a long li#e in insigni#icance and disregard" they come at the end 'ith drums and trumpets and thin! that is something? is the response" but there is also satis#actionA ?Dould anyone 'ith a great mind ever have been able to attain his goal and create a permanent and perennial 'or!" i# he had ta!en as his guiding star the bobbing 'ill-o?-the-'isp o# public opinion" that is to say the opinion o# small mindsI? Philosophically minded 9ran!#urters buy poodles in homage. 80-4 As #ame brings more attention #rom 'omen" his vie's on them so#ten. 9rom having thought them ?suited to being the nurses and teachers o# our earliest childhood precisely because they themselves are childish" silly and short-sighted" in a 'ord" big-children" their 'hole lives longQ he no' @udges that they are capable o#sel#lessness and insight. An attractive sculptress and an admirer o# his philosophy" :li>abeth &ey Ba descendant o# &apoleon?s ;arechalC" comes to 9ran!#urt in +ctober and stays in his apartment #or a month ma!ing a bust o# him. ? he 'or!s all day at my place. Dhen I get bac! #rom luncheon 'e have co##ee together" 'e sit together on the so#a and I #eel as i# I 'ere married"? 80.0 Increasing ill-health suggests the end is nearA ?I can bear the thought that in a short time 'orms 'ill eat a'ay my bodyG but the idea o# philosophy pro#essors nibbling at my philosophy ma!es me shudder.? At the end o# eptember" a#ter a 'al! by the ban!s o# the ;ain" he returns home" complains o#brcathlessness and dies" still

convinced that ?human e<istence must be a !ind o# error.? uch 'as the li#e o# a philosopher 'ho may o##er the heart unparalleled assistance.

2 A contemporary love story DI*% C%+P:&%AU:$IA& &+*: A man is attempting to work on a train between "dinburgh and )ondon. It is early in the afternoon on a warm spring day. -apers and a diary are on the table before him, and a book is open on the armrest. +ut the man has been unable to hold a coherent thought since 0ewcastle, when a woman entered the carriage and seated herself across the aisle. After looking impassively out of the window for a few moments, she turned her attention to a pile of maga ines. She has been reading Hogue since 1arlington. She reminds the man of a portrait by Christen @Gbke of *rs 4eegh($uldberg Cthough he cannot recall either of these namesD, which he saw, and felt strangely moved and saddened by, in a museum in 1enmark a few years before. +ut unlike *rs 4oegh($uldberg, she has short brown hair and wears &eans, a pair of trainers and a canary(yellow H(neck sweater over a #( snirt. 4e notices an incongruously large digital sports(watch on her pale, freckle(dotted wrist. 4e imagines running his hand through her chestnut hair, caressing the back of her neck, sliding his hand inside the sleeve of herpullover, watching her fall asleep beside him, her lips slightly agape. 4e imagines living with her in a house in south )ondon, in a cherry(tree' lined street. 4e speculates that she may be a cellist or a graphic designer, or a doctor speciali ing in genetic research. 4is mind turns over strategies for conversation. 4e considers asking her for the time, for a pencil, for directions to the 'bathroom, for reflections on the weather, for a look at one of her maga ines. 4e longs for a train crashE in which their carriage would be thrown into one of the vast barley(fields through which they are passing. In the chaos, he would guide her safely outside, and repair with her to a nearby tent set up by the ambulance service, where they would be

offered lukewarm tea and stare into each other's eyes. /ears later, they would attract interest by revealing that they had met in the tragic "dinburgh "xpress collision. +ut because the train seems disinclined to derail, and though he knows it to be louche and absurd, the man cannot help clearing his throat and leaning over to ask the angel if she might have a spare ballpoint. It feels like &umping of the side of a very high bridge.

8. Philosophers have not traditionally been impressedA the tribulations o# love have appeared too childish to 'arrant investigation" the sub@ect better le#t to poets and hysterics. It is not #or philosophers to speculate on hand-holding and scented" letters. chopenhauer 'as pu>>led by the indi##erenceA %e should be surprised that a matter rhat generally plays such an important part in i(he life of man has hitherto been almost entirely disregarded by philosophers, and lies before us as raw and untreated material. *he neglect seemed the result o# a pompous denial o# a side o# li#e 'hich violated man?s rational sel#-image. chopenhauer insisted on the a'!'ard realityA )ove . . . interrupts at every hour the most serious occupations, and sometimes perplexes for a while even rhe greatest minds. It does not hesitate ... to interfere with the negotiations of statesmen and the investigations of the learned. It knows how to slip its love(notes and ringlets even into ministerial portfolios and philosophical manuscripts ... It sometimes demands the sacrifice of ... health, sometimes of wealth, position and happiness. 2. )i!e the ,ascon essayist born 2-- years be#ore him" chopenhauer 'as concerned 'ith 'hat made man - supposedly the most rational o# all creatures - less than reasonable. *here 'as a set o# ;ontaigne?s 'or!s in the library o# the apartment at chonc Aussicht. chopenhauer had read ho' reason could be dethroned by a #art" a big lunch or an ingro'ing toenail" and concurred 'ith ;ontaigne?s vie' that our minds 'ere subservient to our bodies" despite our arrogant #aith in the contrary. 7. But chopenhauer 'ent #urther. $ather than alighting on loose e<amples o# the dethronement o# reason" he gave a name to G? #orce 'ithin us 'hich he #elt invariably had precedence ovci

reason" a #orce po'er#ul enough to distort all o# reason?s plans and @udgements" and 'hich he termed the 'iil-to-li#e de#ined as an inherent drive 'ithin human beings to stay alive and reproduce. *he 'ill-to-li#e led even committed depressives to #ight #or survival 'hen they 'ere threatened by a ship'rec! or grave illness. It ensured that the most cerebral" career-minded individuals 'ould be seduced by the sight o# gurgling in#ants" or i# they remained unmoved" that they 'ere li!ely to conceive a child any'ay" and love it #iercely on arrival. And it 'as the 'ill-to-li#e that drove people to lose their reason over comely passengers encountered across the aisles o# long-distance trains. 5. chopenhauer might have resented the disruption o# love Bit isn?t easy to pro##er grapes to schoolgirlsCG but he re#used to conceive o# it as either disproportionate or accidental. It 'as entirely commensurate 'ith love?s #unctionA %hy all this noise and fuss, %hy all the urgency, uproar, anguish and exertion, . . . %hy should such a trifle play so important a role . . ., It is no trifle that is here in question. on the contrary, the importance of the matter is perfectly in keeping with the earnestness and ardour of the effort. #he ultimate aim of dll love( affairs ... is actually more important than all other aims in man's life. and therefore it is quite worthy of the profound seriousness with which everyone pursues it. And 'hat is the aimI &either communion nor se<ual release" understanding nor entertainment. *he romantic dominates li#e becauseA %hat is decided by it is nothing less than the composition of the next generation . . . the existence and special constitution of the human race in rimes to come. It is because love directs us 'ith such #orce to'ards the second o# the 'ill-to-li#e?s r'o great commands that chopenhauer @udged it the most inevitable and understandable o# our obsessions.

-. *he #act that the continuation o# the specieIA is seldom in our minds 'hen 'e as! #or a phone number is no ob@ection to the theory. De are" suggested chopenhauer" split into conscious and unconscious selves" the unconscious governed by the 'ill-to-

li#e" the conscious subservient to it and unable to learn o# all its plans. $ather than a sovereign entity" the conscious mind is a partially sighted servant o# a dominant" child-obsessed 'ill-to-li#eA 6#he intellect7 does nor penetrate into the secret workshop ofrhe will's decisions. It is, of course, a confidant of the will, yet a confidant that does nor get to know everything. *he intellect understands only so much as is necessary to promote reproduction - 'hich may mean understanding very littleA 6It7 remains ... much excluded from the real resolutions and secret decisions of its own will. An e<clusion 'hich e<plains ho' 'e may consciously #eel nothing more than an intense desire to see someone again" 'hile unconsciously being driven by a #orce aiming at the reproduction o# the ne<t generation. Dhy should such deception even be necessaryI Because" #or chopenhauer" 'e 'ould noQ reliably assent to reproduce unless 'e #irst had lost our minds.

.. *he analysis surely violates a rational sel#-image" but at least it counters suggestions that romantic love is an avoidable departure #rom more serious tas!s" that it is #orgivable #or youngsters 'ith too much time on their hands to soon by moonlight and sob beneath bedclothes" but that it is unnecessary and demented #or rheir seniors to neglect their -'or! because they have glimpsed a #ace on a train. By conceiving o# love as biologically inevitable" !ey to the continuation o# the species" chopenhauer?s theory o# the 'ill invites us to adopt a more #orgiving stance to'ards the eccentric behaviour to 'hich love so o#ten ma!es us sub@ect. *he man and 'oman are seated at a -'indo'-table in a ,ree! restaurant in north )ondon. A bo'l o# olives lies bet'een them" but neither can thin! o# a 'ay to remove the stones 'ith re=uisite dignity and so they are le#t untouched. he had not been carrying a ballpoint on her" but had o##ered him a pencil. A#ter a pause" she said ho' much she hated long train-@ourneys" a super#luous remar! 'hich nod given him the slender encouragement he needed. he 'as not a cellist" nor a graphic designer" rather a la'yer speciali>ing in corporate #inance in a city #irm. he 'as originally #rom &e'castle" but

had been living in )ondon #or the past eight years. By the time the train pulled into 9usion" he nod obtained a phone number and an assent to a suggestion o# dinner. A waiter arrives to take their order. She asks for a salad and the sword( fish. She has come directly from work, and is wearing a light(grey suit and #hey begin to talk. She explains that at weekends, her favourite activity is rock(climbing. She started at school, and has since been on expeditions to ?rance, Spain and Canada. She describes the thrill of hanging hundreds of feet above a valley floor, and camping in the high mountains, where in the morning, icicles have formed inside the tent. 4er dinner companion feels di y on the second floor of apartment buildings. 4er other passion is dancing, she loves the energy and sense of freedom. %hen she can, she stays up all night. 4e favours proximity lo a bed by eleven thirty. #hey talk of work. She has been involved in a patent case. A kettle designer from ?rankfurt has alleged copyright infringement against a +ritish company. #he company is liable under section IG,F,G. of the -atents Act F>JJ. %e does not #ollo' the lengthy account o# a #orthcoming case" but is convinced o# her high intelligence and their superlative compatibility. 8. +ne o# the most pro#ound mysteries o# love is ?Dhy himI?" and ?Dhy herI? Dhy" o# all the possible candidates" did our desire settle so strongly on this creature" 'hy did 'e come to treasure them above all others 'hen their dinner conversation 'as not al'ays the most enlightening" nor their habits the most suitableI And 'hy" despite good intentions" 'ere 'e unable to develop a se<ual interest in certain others" 'ho 'ere perhaps ob@ectively as attractive and might have been more convenient to live 'ithI

2. *he choosiness did not surprise chopenhauer. De are not #ree to #all in love 'ith everyone because 'e cannot produce healthy children 'ith everyone. +ur 'ill-to-li#e drives us to'ards people 'ho 'ill raise our chances o# producing beauti#ul and intelligent o##spring" and repulses us a'ay #rom those 'ho lo'er these same chances. )ove is nothing but the conscious mani#estation o# the 'ill-to-li#e?s discovery o# an ideal co-parentA *he moment 'hen Kt'o peopleL begin to love each other - to fancy each other" as the very apposite :nglish e<pression has it - is actually to be regarded as the very #irst #ormation o# a ne' individual.

In initial meetings" beneath the =uotidian patter" the unconscious o# both parties 'ill assess -'hether a healthy child could one day result #rom intercourseA #here is something quite peculiar to be found in the deep, unconscious seriousness with which two young people of the opposite sex regard each other when they meet for the first time, the searching and penetrating glance they cast at each other, the careful inspection all the features and pans of their respective persons have to undergo. #his scrutiny and examination is the meditation off(he genius of the species concerning the individual possible through these nvo.

7. And 'hat is the 'ill-to-li#e see!ing through such e<aminationI :vidence o# healthy children. *he 'ill-to-li#e must ensure that the ne<t generation 'ill be psychologically and physiologically #it enough to survive in a ha>ardous 'orld" and so it see!s that children be 'ell-proportioned in limb Bneither too short nor too tall" too #at nor too thinC" and stable o# mind Bneither too timid nor too rec!less" neither too cold nor too emotional" etc.C. ince our parents made errors in their courtships" 'e are unli!ely to be ideally balanced ourselves. De have typically come out too rail" too masculine" too #eminineG our noses are large" our chins small. I# such imbalances 'ere allo'ed to persist" or 'ere aggravated" the human race 'ould" 'ithin a short time" #ounder in oddity. *he 'ill-to-li#e must there#ore push us to'ards people 'ho can" on account o# their imper#ections" cancel out our o'n Ba large nose combined 'ith a button nose promises a per#ect noseC" and hence help us restore physical and psychological balance in the ne<t generationA "veryone endeavours to eliminate through the other individual his own weaknesses, defects, and deviations from the type, lest they be perpetuated or even grow into complete abnormalities in the child which will be produced. *he theory o# neutrali>ation gave chopenhauer con#idence in predicting path'ays o# attraction. hort 'omen 'ill #all in love 'ith tall men" but rarely tall men 'ith tall 'omen Btheir unconscious #earing the production o# giantsC. 9eminine men 'ho don?t li!e sport 'ill o#ten be dra'n to boyish 'omen 'ho have short hair Band 'ear sturdy 'atchesCA

*he neutrali>ation o# the t'o individualities ... re=uires that the particular degree o# his manliness shall correspond e<actly to the particular degree o# her 'omanliness" so that the one-sidedness o# each e<actly cancels rhat o# the other. 5. Un#ortunately" the theory o# attraction led chopenhauer to a conclusion so blea!" it may be best i# readers about to be married le#t the ne<t #e' paragraphs unread in order nor to have to rethin! their plansG namely" that a person 'ho is highly suitable #or our child is almost never Bthough 'e cannot reali>e ir at the time because 'e have been blind#olded by the 'ill-to-li#eC very suitable #or us. *hat convenience and passionate love should go hand in hand is the rarest stro!e o# good #ortune"? observed chopenhauer. *he lover 'ho saves our child #rom having an enormous chin or an e##eminate temperament is seldom the person 'ho 'ill ma!e us happy over a li#etime. *he pursuit o# personal happiness and the production o# healthy children are t'o radically contrasting pro@ects" 'hich love maliciously con#uses us into thin!ing o# as one #or a re=uisite number o# years. De should not be surprised by marriages bet'een people 'ho 'ould never have been #riendsA )ove ... casts itself on persons who, apart from the sexual relation, would be hateful, contemptible, and even abhorrent to the lover. +ut the will of the species is so much more powerful than that of the individual, that the lover shuts his eyes to all the qualities repugnant to him, overlooks everything, mis&udges everything, and binds himself for ever to the ob&ect of his passion. 4e is thus completely infatuated by that delusion, which vanishes as soon as the will of the species is satisfied, and leaves behind a detested partner for life. 8nly from this is it possible to explain why we often see very rational, and even eminent, men tied ro termagants and matrimonial fiends, and cannot conceive how they could have made such a choice ... A man in love may even clearly recogni e and bitterly feel in his bride the intolerable faults of temperament and character which promise him a life of misery, and yet not be frightened away ... for ultimately he seeks not his interest, but that of a third person who has yet to come into existence, although he is involved in the delusion that what he seeks is his own interest. *he 'ill-to-li#e?s ability to #urther its o'n ends rather than our happiness may" chopenhauer?s theory implies" be sensed 'ith particular clarity in the lassitude and mstesse that #re=uently

be#all couples immediately a#ter love-ma!ingA 4as it not been observed how illico post coitum cachinnus auditur 1iaboli, C1irectly after copulation the devil's laughter is heard.D So one day, a boyish woman and a girlish man will approach the altar with motives neither they, nor anyone Csave a smattering of Schopenhauerians at the receptionD, will have fathomed. +nly later" 'hen the 'ill?s demands are assuaged and a robust boy is !ic!ing a ball around a suburban garden" 'ill the ruse be discovered. *he couple 'ill part or pass dinners in hostile silence. chopenhauer o##ered us a choice It seems as if, in making a marriage, either the individual or the interest of the species must come off badly ( though he left us in little doubt as to the superior capacity of the species to guarantee its interests2 #he coming generation is provided for at the expense of the present.

#he man pays for dinner and asks, with studied casualness, if it might be an idea to repair to his flat for a drink. She smiles and stares at the floor. :nder the table, she is folding a. paper napkin into ever smaller squares. '#hat would be lovely, it really would,' she says, 'but I have to get up very early to catch a flight to ?rankfurt for this meeting. ?ive thirty or, like, even earlier. *aybe another time though. It would be lovely. !eally, it would.' Another smile. #he napkin disintegrates underpressure. 1espair is alleviated by a promise that she will call from $ermany, and that they must meet again soon, perhaps on the very day of her return. +ut there is no call until late on the appointed day, when she rings from a booth at ?rankfurt airport. In the background are crowds and metallic voices announcing the departure of flights to the 8rient. She tells him she can see huge planes out of the window and that this place is like hell. She says that the fucking )ufthansa flight has been delayed, that she will try to get a seat on another airline but that he shouldn't wait. #here follows a pause before the worst is confirmed. #hings are a little compli( cated in her life right now really, she goes on, she doesn 't quite know what she wants, but she knows she needs space and some time, and if it is all right with him, she will be the one to call once her head is a little clearer.

8. *he philosopher might have o##ered un#lattering e<planations o# 'hy 'e #all in love" but there 'as consolation #or re@ection - the consolation o# !no'ing that our pain is normal. De should not #eel con#used by the enormity o# the upset that can ensue #rom only a #e' days o# hope. It 'ould be unreasonable i# a #orce po'er#ul enough to push us to'ards child-rearing could - i# it #ailed in its aim - vanish 'ithout devastation. )ove could not induce us to ta!e on the burden o# propagating the species 'ithout promising us the greatest happiness 'e could imagine. *o be shoc!ed at ho' deeply re@ection hurts is to ignore 'hat acceptance involves. De must never allo' our su##ering to be compounded by suggestions that there is something odd in su##ering so deeply. *here 'ould be something amiss i# 'e didn?t.

2. Dhat is more" 'e are not inherently unlovable. *here is nothing 'rong 'ith us per se. +ur characters are not repellent" nor our #aces abhorrent. *he union collapsed because 'e 'ere un#it to produce a balanced child 'ith one particular person. *here is no need to hate ourselves. +ne day 'e 'ill come across someone 'ho can #ind us 'onder#ul and 'ho 'ill #eel e<ceptionally natural and open 'ith us Bbecause our chin and their chin ma!e a desirable combination #rom the 'ill-to-li#e?s point o# vie'C.

7. De should in time leam to #orgive our re@ectors. *he brea!-up 'as not their choice. In every clumsy attempt by one person to in#orm another that they need more space or time" thai they are reluctant to commit or are a#raid o# intimacy" the re@ector is striving to intellectuali>e an essentially unconscious negative verdict #ormulated by the 'ill-to-li#e. *heir reason may have had an appreciation o# our =ualities" their 'ill-to-li#e did not and told them so in a 'ay that broo!ed no argument - by draining them o# se<ual interest in us. I# they 'ere seduced a'ay by people less intelligent than 'e are" 'e should not condemn them #or shallo'ness. De should remember" as chopenhauer e<plains" thatA %hat is looked for in marriage is not intellectual entertainment, but the procreation of children.

5. De should respect the edict #rom nature against procreation that every re@ection contains" as 'e might respect a #lash o# lightning or a lava #lo' - an event terrible but mightier than ourselves. De should dra' consolation #rom the thought that a lac! o# loveA between a man and a woman is the announcement that what they might produce would only be a badly organi ed, unhappy being, wanting in harmony in itself. %e might have been happy with our beloved, but nature was not ( a greater reason to surrender our grip on love. ?or a time, the man is beset by melancholy. At the weekend, he takes a walk in +attersea -ark, and sits on a bench overlooking the #hames. %e has 'ith him a paperbac! edition o# ,oethe?s *he orro's o# (oung Derther" #irst published in )eip>ig in 8335. *here are couples pushing prams and leading young children by the hand. A little girl in a blue dress covered in chocolate" points up to a plane descending to'ards %eathro'. ?1addy" is ,od in thereI? she as!s" but 1addy is in a hurry and in a mood" and pPc!s her up and says he doesn ?t !no'" as though he had been as!ed #or directions" A #our-year-old boy drives his tricycle into a shrub and 'ails #or his mother" 'ho has @ust shut her eyes on a rug spread on a tattered patch o# grass. he re=uests that heEi? husband assist the child. %e gru##ly replies that it is her turn. he snaps that it is his. %e says nothing. he says he?s crap and stands >ip. An elderly couple on an ad@acent bench silently share an egg-and-cress sand'ich. 8. chopenhauer as!s us not to be surprised by the misery. De should not as! #or a point to being alive" in a couple or a parent. 2. *here 'ere many 'or!s o# natural science in chopenhauer?s library - among them Dilliam Mirby and Dilliam pence?s Introduction to :ntomology" 9rancois %uberts 1es Abeilles and Cadet de Sau<?s 1c la taupe" de ses moeurs" de ses habitudes et des moyens de la detruirc. *he philosopher read o# ants" beetles" bees" #lies" grasshoppers" moles and migratory birds" and observed" 'ith compassion and pu>>lement" ho' all these creatures displayed an ardent" senseless commitment to li#e. %e #elt particular sympathy #or the mole" a stunted monstrosity d'elling in damp narro' corridors" 'ho rarely sa' the light o# day and 'hose o##spring loo!ed li!e gelatinous 'orms - but 'ho still did everything in its po'er to survive and perpetuate itsel#A

#o dig strenuously with its enormous shovel(paws is the business of its whole life. permanent night surrounds it. it has its embryo eyes merely to avoid the light . . . wliac does it attain by this course of life thar is full of trouble and devoid of pleasure,. . . #he cares and trouble. of life are our of all proportion to the yield or profit from it. :very creature on earth siemed to chopenhauer to be e=ually committed to an e=ually meaningless e<istenceA Contemplate the restless industry o# 'retched little ants . . . rhe li#e o# most insects is nothing but a restless labour #or preparing nourishment and d'elling #or the #uture o##spring that 'ill come #rom their eggs. A#ter the o##spring have consumed the nourishment and have turned into the chrysalis stage" they enter mro li#e merely to begin the same tas! again #rom the beginning . . . 'e cannot help but as! 'hat comes o# all y#this .. . there is nothing to sho' but the satis#action o# hunger and se<ual passion" and . tary grati#ication . .. no' and then" bet'een and e<ertions.

7. *he philosopher did not have to spell out the parallels. De pursue love a##airs" chat in ca#es 'ith prospective partners and have children" 'ith as much choice in the matter as moles and ants - and are rarely any happier.

5. %e did not mean to depress us" rather to #ree us #rom e<pectations 'hich inspire bitterness. It is consoling" 'hen love has let us do'n" to hear that happiness 'as never part o# the plan. *he dar!est thin!ers may" parado<ically" be the most cheeringA #here is only one inborn error, and that is the notion that we exist in order to be happy ... So long as we persist in this inborn error . . . the world seems to us full of contradictions. ?or at

every step, in great things .' i id small, we are bound to experience that the world and life are (,rtainly not arranged for the purpose of maintaining a happy existence . . . hence the countenances oi almost all elderly persons wear the expression of what is called disappointment. *hey 'ould never have gro'n so disappointed i# only they had entered love 'ith the correct e<pectationsA %hat disturbs and renders unhappy ... the age of youth ... is the hunt for happiness on the firm assumption that it must be met with in life. ?rom this arises the constantly deluded hope and so also dissatisfaction. 1eceptive images of a vague happiness of our dreams hover before us in capriciously selected shapes and we search in vain for their original . . . *uch would have been gained if through timely advice and instruction young people could have had eradicated from their minds the erroneous notion that the world has a great deal to offer them.

7 De do have one advantage over moles. De may have to #ight #or survival and hunt #or partners and have children as they do" but 'e can in addition go to the theatre" the opera and the concert hall" and in bed in the evenings" 'e can read novels" philosophy and epic poems - and it is in these activities that chopenhauer located a supreme source o# relie# #rom the demands o# the 'ill-to-%#e. Dhat 'e encounter in 'or!s o# art and philosophy are ob@ective versions o# our o'n pains and struggles" evo!ed and de#ined in sound" language or image. Artists and philosophers not only sho' us 'hat 'e have #elt" they present our e<periences more poignantly and intelligently than 'e have been ableG they give shape to aspects o# our lives that 'e recogni>e as our o'n" yet could never have understood so clearly on our o'n. *hey e<plain our condition to us" and thereby help us to be less lonely 'ith" and con#used by it. De may be obliged to continue burro'ing underground" but through creative 'or!s" 'e can at least ac=uire moments o# insight into our 'oes" 'hich spare us #eelings o# alarm and isolation Beven persecutionC at being a##licted by them. In their di##erent 'ays" art

and philosophy help us" in chopenhauer?s 'ords" to turn pain into !no'ledge. *he philosopher admired his mother?s #riend 6ohann Dol#gang von ,oethe because he had turned so many o# the pains o# love into !no'ledge" most #amously in the novel he had published at the age o# t'enty-#ive" and 'hich had made his name throughout :urope. *he orro's o# (oung Derther described the unre=uited love #elt by a particular young man #or a particular young 'oman Bthe charming )otte" 'ho shared Dermer?s taste #or *he Sicar ?A# Dd!e#ield and E'ore 'hite dresses 'ith pin! ribbons at the sleevesC" but it simultaneously described the love a##airs o# thousands o# its readers B&apoleon 'as said to have read the novel nine timesC. *he greatest 'or!s o# art spea! to us 'ithout !no'ing o# us. As chopenhauer put itA #he . .. poet takes from life that which is quite particular and individual, and describes it accurately in its individuality. but in this way he reveals the whole of human existence . . . though he appears to be concerned with the particular, lie is actually concerned with that which is everywhere and at all rimes. ?rom this it arises that sentences, especially of the dramatic poets, even without being general apophthegms, find frequent application in real life. ,oethe?s readers not only recogni>ed themselves in #he Sorrows o# (oung Derther" they also understood themselves better as a result" #or ,oethe had clari#ied a range o# the a'!'ard" evanescent moments o# love" moments that his readers 'ould previously have lived through" though 'ould not necessarily have #athomed. %e laid bare certain la's o# love" 'hat chopenhauer termed essential ideas? o# romantic psychology. %e had" #or e<ample" per#ectly captured the apparently !ind - yet in#initely cruel - manner 'ith 'hich the person 'ho does not love deals 'ith the one 'ho does. )ate in the novel" tortured by his #eelings" Derther brea!s do'n in #ront o# )otteA ?)otte? he cried" ?I shall never see you againJ? - ?Dhy ever notI? she repliedA ?Derther" you may and must see us again" but do be less agitated in your manner. +h" 'hy did you have to be born 'ith this intense spirit" this uncontoliable passion tor everything you are close toJ I impolore you"? she 'ent on" ta!ing his hand" ?be calmer. *hin! o# the many @oys your spirit" your !no'ledge and your gi#ts a##ord youJ? De need not have lived in ,ermany in the second hal# o# the eighteenth century ro appreciate 'hat is involved. *here are #e'er

stories than there are people on earth" the plots repeated ceaselessly 'hile the names and bac!drops alter. *he essence o# art is that its one case applies to thousands"? !ne' chopenhauer. In turn" there is consolation in reali>ing that our case is only one o# thousands. chopenhauer made t'o trips to 9lorence" in 8080 and again in 8022. %e is li!ely to have visited the Brancacci chapel in anta ;aria del Carmine" in 'hich ;asacdo had painted a series o# #rescos bet'een 852- and 852.. *he distress o# Adam and :ve at leaving paradise is not theirs alone. In the #aces and posture o# the t'o #igures" ;asaccio has captured the essence o# distress" the very Idea o# distress" his #resco a universal symbol o# our #allibility and #ragility. De have all been e<pelled #rom the heavenly garden. But by reading a tragic tale o# love" a re@ected suitor raises himsel# above his o'n situationG he is no longer one man su##ering alone" singly and con#usedly" he is part o# a vast body o# human beings 'ho have throughout time #allen in love 'ith other humans in the agoni>ing drive to propagate the species. %is su##ering loses a little o# its sting" it gro's more comprehensible" less o# an individual curse. +# a person 'ho can achieve such ob@ectivity" chopenhauer remar!sA In the course of his own life and in its misfortunes, he will look less at his own individual lot than at the lot of mankind as a whole, and accordingly will conduct himself. .. more as a knower than as a sufferer. De must" bet'een periods o# digging in the dar!" endeavour al'ays to trans#orm our tears into !no'ledge.

SI Consolation #or 1i##iculties 8. 9e' philosophers have thought highly o# #eeling 'retched. A 'ise

li#e has traditionally been associated 'ith an attempt to .Educe su##eringA an<iety" despair" anger" sel#-contempt and heartache. 2. *hen again" pointed out 9riedrich &iet>sche" the ma@ority o# philosophers have al'ays been ?cabbage-heads?. ?It is my #ate to have to be the #irst decent human being"? he recogni>ed 'ith a degree o# embarrassment in the autumn o# 8000. ?I have a terrible #ear that I shall one day be pronounced holy?" and he set the date some'here around the da'n o# the third millenniumG ?)et us assume that people 'ill be allo'ed" to read Kmy 'or!L in about the year 2000.? %e 'as sure they 'ould en@oy it 'hen they didA It seems to me that to take a book of mine inro his hands is one of the rarest distinctions that an Kone can confer upon himself. I even assume that he removes his shoes when he does so ( not to speak of boots. A distinction because" alone among the cabbage-heads" &iet>sche had reali>ed that di##iculties o# every sort 'ere to be 'elcomed by those see!ing #ul#ilmentG /ou want if possible B and there is no madder 'if possible' B to abolish suffering. and we, ( it really does seem that we would rather increase it and make it worse than it has ever been< *hough punctilious in sending his best 'ishes to #riends" &iet>sche !ne' in his heart 'hat they neededA #o those human beings who are of any concern to me I wish suffering, desolation, sickness, ill(treatment, indignities (F wish that they should not remain unfamiliar with profound self(contempt, the torture of self(mistrust, the wretchedness of the vanquished. Dhich helped to e<plain 'hy his 'or! amounted to" even i# he said so himsel#A *he greatest gi#t that Kman!indL has ever been given.

De should not be #rightened by appearances.

In the eyes of people who are seeing us for the first time... usually we are nothing more than a single individual which leaps to the eye and determines the whole impression we make. #hus the gentlest and most reasonable of men can, if he wears a large moustache.. . usually be seen as no more than the appurtenance of a large moustache, that is to say a military type, easily angered and occasionally violent ( and as such he wil be treated.

5 %e had not al'ays thought so 'ell o# di##iculty. 9or his initial vie's" he had been indebted to a philosopher he had discovered at the age o# t'enty-one as a student at )eip>ig University. In the autumn o# 80.-" in a second-hand boo!shop in )eip>ig?s Blumengasse" he had by chance pic!ed up an edition o# *he Dorld as Dill and $epresentation" 'hose author had died #ive years previously in an apartment in 9ran!#urt 700 !ilometres to the 'estA I took 6Schopenhauer's book7 in my hand as something totally unfamiliar and turned the pages. I don't know which daimon was whispering to me2 '#ake this book home.' In any case, it happened, which was contrary ro my custom of otherwise never rushing into buying a book +ack .it the house I threw myself into the corner of a sofa with my new 22 easure, and began to let that dynamic, dismal genius work on me. "ach line cried out with renunciation, negation, resignation. *he older man changed the younger one?s li#e. *he essence o# philosophical 'isdom 'as" chopenhauer e<plained" Aristotle?s remar! in the &icomachean :thics?. *he prudent man strives #or #reedom #rom pain" not pleasure. *he priority #or all those see!ing contentment 'as to recogni>e the impossibility o# #ul#ilment and so to avoid the troubles and an<iety that 'e typically encounter in its pursuitA 6%e should7 direct our aim not to what is pleasant and agreeable in life, but to the avoidance, as far as possible, of its numberless evils . . . #he happiest lot is that of the man who has got through life

without any very great pain, bodily or mental. Dhen he ne<t 'rote home to his 'ido'ed mother and his nineteen-year-old sister in &aumburg" &iet>sche replaced the usual reports on his diet and the progress o# his studies 'ith a summary o# his ne' philosophy o# renunciation and resignationA %e know that life consists of suffering, rhat the harder we try to en&oy it, the more enslaved we are by it. (md so we 6should7 discard the goods of life and practise abstinence. It sounded strange to his mother" 'ho 'ore bac! e<plaining that she didn?t li!e ?that !ind o# display or that !ind o# opinion so much as a proper letter" #ull o# ne's?" and advised her son to entrust his heart to ,od and to ma!e sure he 'as eating properly. But chopenhauer?s in#luence did not subside. &iet>sche began to live cautiously. e< #igured prominently in a list he dre' up under the heading ?1elusions o# the Individual?. 1uring his military service in &aumburg" he positioned a photograph o# chopenhauer on his des!" and in di##icult moments cried out" ? chopenhauer" helpJ? At the age o# t'enty-#our" on ta!ing up the Chair o# Classical Philology at Basle University" he 'as dra'n into the intimate circle o# $ichard and Cosima Dagner through a common love o# the pessimistic" prudent sage o# 9ran!#urt.

*hen" a#ter more than a decade o# attachment" in the autumn o# 803." &iet>sche travelled to Italy and under'ent a radical change o# mind. %e had accepted an invitation #rom ;al'ida von ;eysenbug" a 'ealthy middle-aged enthusiast o# the arts" to spend a #e' months 'ith her and a group o# #riends in a villa in orrento on the Bay o# &aples. ?I never sa' him so lively. %e laughed aloud #rom sheer @oy"? reported ;al'ida o# &iet>sche?s #irst response to the Silla $ubinacci" 'hich stood on a lea#y avenue on the edge o# orrento. 9rom the living room there 'ere vie's over the bay" the island o# Ischia and ;ount Sesuvius" and in #ront o# the house" a small garden 'ith #ig and orange trees" cypresses and grape arbours led do'n to the sea. *he house guests 'ent s'imming" and visited Pompeii"

Sesuvius" Capri and the ,ree! temples at Paestum. At mealtimes" they ate light dishes prepared 'ith olive oil" and in the evenings" read together in the living roomA 6acob Burc!hardt?s lectures on ,ree! civili>ation" ;ontaigne" )a $oche#oucauld" Sauvenargues" )a Bruyere" tendhal" ,oethe?s ballad 1ie Brant von Morinth" and his play 1ie naturliche *echier" %erodotus" *hucydides" and Plato?s )a's Bthough" perhaps spurred on by ;ontaigne?s con#essions o# distaste" &iet>sche gre' irritated 'ith the latterA *he Platonic dialogue" that dread#ully sel#-satis#ied and childish !ind o# dialectics. can only have a stimulating e##ect i# one has never read any good 9renchmen ... Plato is boring?C. And as he s'am in the ;editerranean" ate #ood coo!ed in olive oil rather than butter" breathed 'arm air and read ;ontaigne and tendhal B*hese little things - nutriment" place" climate" recreation" the 'hole casuistry o# sel#ishness - are beyond all conception o# greater importance than anything that has been considered o# importance hitherto?C" &iet>sche gradually changed his philosophy o# pain and pleasure" and 'ith it" his perspective on di##iculty. Datching the sun set over the Bay o# &aples at the end o# +ctober 803." he 'as in#used 'ith a ne'" =uite un- chopenhauerian #aith in e<istence. %e #elt that he had been old at the beginning o# his li#e" and shed tears at the thought that he had been saved at the last moment.

. %e made a #ormal announcement o# his conversion in a letter to Cosima Dagner at the end o# 803.A ?Dould you be ama>ed i# I con#ess something that has gradually come about" but 'hich has more or less suddenly entered my consciousnessA a disagreement 'ith chopenhauer?s teachingI +n virtually all general propositions I am not on his side.? +ne o# these propositions being that" because #ul#ilment is an illusion" the 'ise must devote themselves to avoiding pain rather than see!ing pleasure" living =uietly" as chopenhauer counselled" ?in a small #ireproo# room? - advice that no' struc! &iet>sche as both timid and untrue" a perverse attempt ro d'ell" as he 'as to put it pe@oratively several years later" ?hidden in #orests li!e shy deer?. 9ul#ilment 'as to be reached not by avoiding pain" but by recogni>ing its role as a natural" inevitable step on the 'ay to reaching anything good.

3 Dhat had" besides the #ood and the air" helped to change &iet>sche?s outloo! 'as his re#lection on the #e' individuals throughout history 'ho appeared genuinely to have !no'n #ul#illed livesG individuals 'ho could #airly have been described - to use one o# the most contested terms in the &ier>schean le<icon - as Ubermenschen. *he notoriety and absurdity o# the 'ord o'e less to &iet>sche?s o'n philosophy than to his sister :lisabeth?s subse=uent enchantment 'ith &ational ocialism B?rhat venge#ul anti- emiac goose?" as 9riedrich described her long be#ore she shoo! the 9iihrer?s handC" and the un'itting decision by &iet>sche?s earliest Angloa<on translators to be=ueath to the Ubermensch the name o# a legendary cartoon hero. But &iet>sche?s Ubermenschen had little to do 'ith either airborne aces or #ascists. A better indication o# their identity came in a passing remar! in a letter to his mother and sisterA !eally, there is nobody living about whom I care much. #he people I like have been dead for a long, 7ong time for example, the Abbe $aliani, or 4enri +eyle, or *ontaigne. %e could have added another hero"6ohann Dol#gang von ,oethe. *hese #our men 'ere perhaps the richest clues #or 'hat &iet>sche came in his maturity to understand by a #ul#illed li#e. *hey had much in common. *hey 'ere curious" artistically gi#ted" and se<ually vigorous. 1espite their dar! sides" they laughed" and many o# them danced" tooG they 'ere dra'n to ?gentle sunlight" bright and buoyant air" southerly vegetation" the breath o# the sea Kand6 #leeting meals o# #lesh" #ruit and eggs?. everal o# them had a gallo's humour close to &iet>sche?s o'n - a @oy#ul" 'ic!ed laughter arising #rom pessimistic hinterlands. *hey had e<plored their possibilities" they possessed 'hat &iet>sche called ?li#e?" 'hich suggested courage" ambition" dignity" strength o# character" humour and independence Band a parallel absence o# sanctimoniousness" con#ormity" resentment andprissinessC. *hey had been involved in the 'orld. ;ontaigne had been mayor o# Bordeau< #or r'o terms and @ourneyed across :urope on

horsebac!. *he &eapolitan Abbe ,aliani had been ecretary to the :mbassy in Paris and 'ritten 'or!s on money supply and grain distribution B'hich Soltaire praised #or combining the 'it o# ;oliere and the intelligence o# PlatoC. ,oethe h.id 'or!ed #or a decade as a civil servant in the Court in DeimarG he had proposed re#orms in agriculture" industry and poor relie#" underta!en diplomatic missions and t'ice had audiences 'ith &apoleon. +n his visit to Italy in 8303" he had seen the ,ree! temples at Paestum and made three ascents o# ;ount Sesuvius" coming close enough to the crater to dodge eruptions o# stone and ash. &iet>sche called him ?magni#icent?" ?the last ,erman I hold in reverence?A ?%e made use o# ... practical activity ... he did not divorce himsel# #rom li#e but immersed himsel# in it... KheL too! as much as possible upon himsel#... Dhat he 'anted 'as totalityG he #ought against the dis@unction o# reason" sensuality" #eeling" 'ill?. tendhal had accompanied &apoleon?s armies around :urope" he had visited the ruins o# Pompeii seven times and admired the Pont du ,ard by a #ull moon at #ive in the morning B?*he Coliseum in $ome hardly plunged me into a reverie more pro#ound . . ?C. &iet>sche?s heroes had also #allen in love repeatedly. ?*he 'hole movement o# the 'orld tends and leads to'ards copulation?. ;ontaigne had !no'n. At the age o# seventy-#our" on holiday in ;arienbad" ,oethe had become in#atuated 'ith Ulri!e von )evet>o'" a pretty nineteen-year-old" 'hom he had invited out #or tea and on 'al!s" be#ore as!ing #or Band being re#usedC her hand in marriage. tendhal" 'ho had !no'n and loved Derther" had been as passionate as its author" his diaries detailing con=uests across decades. At t'enty-#our" stationed 'ith the &apoleonic armies in ,ermany" he had ta!en the inn!eeper?s daughter to bed and noted proudly in his diary that she 'as ?the #irst ,erman 'oman I ever sa' 'ho 'as totally e<hausted a#ter an orgasm. I made her passionate 'ith my caressesG she 'as very #rightened.? And #inally" these men had all been artists BArt is the great stimulant to li#e recogni>ed &iet>scheC" and must have #elt e<traordinary satis#action upon completing the :ssa-is" $ ocrate immaginario" $omische :legien and 1c I?amour. *hese 'ere" &iet>sche implied" some o# the elements that human beings naturally needed #or a #ul#illed li#e. %e added an important detailG that it 'as impossible to attain them 'ithout #eeling very miserable some o# the timeA

%hat if pleasure and displeasure were so lied together that whoever (wanted to have as much as possible of ui(.. must also have as much as possible of the other ... you have the choice2 either as little dis( pleasure as possible, painlessness in brief. . . or as much displeasure as possible as the price for the growth of an abundance of subtle plea( sures and &oys that have rarely been relished yet, If you decide for the former and desire to diminish and lower the level of human pain, you also have to dimmish and lower the level of their capacity for&oy. *he most #ul#illing human pro@ects appeared inseparable #rom a degree o# torment" the sources o# our greatest @oys lying a'!'ardly close to those o# our greatest painsA :<amine the lives o# the best and most #ruit#ul people and peoples and as! yourselves 'hether a tree that is supposed to gro' to a proud height can dispense 'ith bad 'eather and stormsG 'hether mis#ortune and e<ternal resistance" some !inds o# hatred" @ealousy" stubbornness" mistrust" hardness" avarice" and violence do not belong among the #avourable conditions 'ithout 'hich any great gro'th even o# virtue is scarcely possible. DhyI Because no one is able to produce a great 'or! o# art 'ithout e<perience" nor achieve a 'orldly position immediately" nor be a great lover at the #irst attemptG and in the interval bet'een initial #ailure and subse=uent success" in the gap bet'een 'ho 'e 'ish one day to be and 'ho 'e are at present" must come pain" an<iety" envy and humiliation. De su##er because 'e cannot spontaneously master the ingredients o# #ul#ilment. &iet>sche 'as striving to correct the belie# that #ul#ilment must come easily or not at all" a belie# ruinous in its e##ects" #or it leads us to 'ithdra' prematurely #rom challenges that might have been overcome i# only 'e had been prepared #or the savagery legitimately demanded by almost everything valuable. De might imagine that ;ontaigne?s :ssays had sprung #ully #ormed #rom his mind and so could ta!e the clumsiness o# our o'n #irst attempts to 'rite a philosophy o# li#e as signs o# a congenital incapacity #or the tas!. De should loo! instead at the evidence o# colossal authorial struggles behind the #inal masterpiece" the plethora o# additions and revisions the :ssays demanded. )e Mo'Pe et ! noir. Sie dc %enry Brulard and 1e S amour had been no easier to 'rite. tendhal had begun his artistic career by s!etching

out a number o# poor plays. +ne had centred on the landing o# an emigre army at Vuiberon Bthe characters 'ere to include Dilliam Pitt and Charles 6ames 9o<C" another had charted Bonaparte?s rise to po'er and a third - tentatively tided )?%omme =ui cramt d?etre gouverne - had depicted the slide o# an old man into senility. tendhal had spent 'ee!s at the Bibliothe=ue &arionale" copying out dictionary de#initions o# 'ords li!e ?plaisanterie?" ?ridicule and ?comi=ue - but it had not been enough to trans#orm his leaden play'riting. It 'as many decades o# toil be#ore the masterpieces emerged. I# most 'or!s o# literature aGAe less #ine than )e $ouge el Ie noir" it is - suggested &iet>sche - not because their authors lac! genius" but because they have an incorrect idea o# ho' much pain is re=uired. *his is ho' hard one should try to 'rite a novelA *he recipe #or becoming a good novelist ... is easy to give" but to carry it out presupposes =ualities one is accustomed to overloo! 'hen one says ?I do not have enough talent.? +ne has only to ma!e a hundred or so s!etches #or novels" none longer than t'o pages but o# such distinctness that every 'ord in them is necessaryG one should 'rite do'n anecdotes every day until one has leamt ho' to give them the most pregnant and e##ective #ormG one should be tireless in collecting and describing human types and charactersG one should above all relate things to others and listen to others relate" !eeping one?s eyes and ears open #or the e##ect produced on those present" one should travel li!e a landscape painter or costume designer . . . one should" #inally" re#lect on the motives o# human actions" disdain no signpost #or instruction about them and be a collector o# these things by day and night. +ne should continue in this many-sided e<ercise #or some ten years?" 'hat is then created in the 'or!shop . . . 'ill be #it to go out into the 'orld *he philosophy amounted to a curious mi<ture o# e<treme #aith in human potential B#ul#ilment is open to us all" as is the 'riting o# great novelsC and e<treme toughness B'e may need to spend a miserable decade on the #irst boo!C. It 'as in order to accustom us to the legitimacy o# pain that &iet>sche spent so much time tal!ing about mountains.

80 It is hard to read more than a #e' pages 'ithout coming upon an

alpine re#erenceA :cce %omoA %e 'ho !no's ho' to breathe the air o# my 'ritings !no's that it is an air o# heights" a robust air. +ne has to be made #or it" other'ise there is no small danger one 'ill catch cold. *he ice is near" the solitude is terrible - but ho' peace#ully all things lie in the lightJ ho' #reely one breathesJ ho' much one #eels beneath oneJ Philosophy" as I have hitherto understood and lived it" is a voluntary living in ice and high mountains. +n the ,enealogy o# ;oralsA De 'ouId need another sort o# spirit than those 'e are li!ely to encounter in this age Kto understand my philosophyL . . . they 'ould need to be acclimati>ed to thinner air higher up" ro 'inter tre!s" ice and mountains in every sense. %uman" All *oo %umam In the mountains o# truth you 'ill never climb in vainA either you 'ill get up higher today or you 'ill e<ercise your strength so as to be able to get up higher tomorro'. Untimely ;editationsA *o climb as high into the pure icy Alpine air as a philosopher ever climbed" up to 'here all the mist and obscurity cease and 'here the- #undamental constitution o# things spea!s in voice rough and rigid but ineluciably comprehensibleJ %e 'as - in borh a practical and spiritual sense - o# the mountains. %aving ta!en citi>enship in April 80.4" &iet>sche may be considered 'it>erland?s most #amous philosopher. :ven so" he on occasion succumbed to a sentiment 'ith 'hich #e' 'iss are unac=uainted. ?I am distressed to be 'issJ? he complained to his mother a year a#ter ta!ing up citi>enship. Upon resigning his post at Basle University at the age o# thirty#ive" he began spending 'inters by the ;editerranean" largely in ,enoa and &ice" and summers in the Alps" in the small village" o# ils-;aria" 8"000 metres above sea-level in the :ngadine region o# south-eastern 'it>erland" a #e' !ilometres #rom t ;orit>" 'here the 'inds #rom Italy collide 'ith cooler northern gusts and turn the s!y an a=uamarine blue. &iet>sche visited the :ngadme #or the #irst time in 6une 8034 and at once #ell in love 'ith the climate and topography. BJ no' have :urope?s best and mightiest air to breathe2 he told Paul $ee" ?its nature is a!in to my o'n.? *o Peter ,ast" he 'rote" *his is not 'it>erland . . . but something =uite di##erent" at lease much more southern - 8 'ould have to go to the high plateau< o# ;e<ico overloo!ing the Paci#ic to #ind anything similar B#or e<ample" +a<acaC" and the vegetation there 'ould o# course be tropical. Dell" I shall

try to !eep this ils-;aria #or mysel#?. And to his old school#riend Carl von ,ersdor##" he e<plained" ?I #eel that here and no'here else is my real home and breeding ground.? &iet>sche spent seven summers in ils-;aria in a rented room in a chalet 'ith vie's on to pine trees and mountains. *here he 'rote all or substantial portions o# *he ,ay cience" *hus pa!e Harathustra" Beyond ,ood and :vil" +n the ,enealogy o# ;orals and *'ilight o# the Idols. %e 'ould rise at #ive in the morning and 'or! until midday" then ta!e 'al!s up the huge pea!s that nec!lace the village" Pi> Corvatscb" Pi> )agrev" Pi> de la ;argna" @agged and ra' mountains that loo! as i# they had only recently thrust through the earth?s crust under atrocious tectonic pressures. In the evening" alone in his room" he 'ould eat a #e' slices o# ham" an egg and a roll and go to bed early. B?%o' can anyone become a thin!er i# he does not spend at lec?s?i a third o# the day 'ithout passions" people and boo!sI?C *oday" inevitably" rhere is a museum in the village. 9or a #e' #rancs" one is invited to visit the philosopher?s bedroom" re#urbished" the guideboo! e<plains" ?As it loo!ed in &iet>sche?s time" in all its unpretentiousness?. (et to understand 'hy &iet>sche #elt there to be such an a##inity bet'een his philosophy and the mountains" it may be best to s!irt the room and visit instead one o# ils-;aria?s many sports shops in order co ac=uire 'al!ing boots" a ruc!sac!" a 'ater-bottle" gloves" a compass and a pic!. A hi!e up Pi> Corvatsch" a #e' !ilometres #rom &iet>sche?s house" 'ill e<plain better than any museum the spirit o# his philosophy" his de#ence o# di##iculty" and his reasons #or turning a'ay #rom chopenhauerian deer-li!e shyness. At the base o# the mountain one #inds a large car par!" a ro' o# recycling bins" a depot #or rubbish truc!s and a restaurant o##ering oleaginous sausages and rosti. *he summit is" by contrast" sublime. *here are vie's across the entire :ngadineA the tur=uoise la!es o# egl" ilvaplana and t ;orit>" and to the south" near the border 'ith Italy" rhe massive ella and $oseg glaciers. *here is an e<traordinary stillness in the air" it seems one can touch the roo# o# the 'orld. *he height leaves one out o# breath but curiously elated. It is hard not to start grinning" perhaps laughing" #or no particular reason" an innocent laughter that comes #rom the core o# one?s being and e<presses a

primal delight at being alive to see such beauty. But" to come to the moral o# &iet>sche?s mountain philosophy" it isn?t easy to climb 7"5-8 metres above sea-level. It re=uires #ive hours at least" one must cling to steep paths" negotiate a 'ay around boulders and through thic! pine-#orests" gro' breathless in the thin air" add layers o# clothes to #ight the 'ind and crunch through eternal sno's.

88 &iet>sche o##ered another alpine metaphor. A #e' steps #rom his room in ils-;aria a path leads to the 9e< Salley" one o# the most #ertile o# the :ngadine. Its gentle slopes are e<tensively #armed. In summer" #amilies o# co's stand re#lectively munching the almost luminously rich-green grass" their bells clanging as they move #rom one patch to another. treams tric!le through the #ields 'ith th- Giound o# spar!ling 'ater being poured into glasses. Beside manv AGmall" immaculate #arms Beach one #lying the national and cantonal #lagsC stand care#ully tended vegetable gardens #rom 'hose loamy soils sprout vigorous cauli#lo'ers" beetroots" carrots and lettuces" 'hich tempt one to !neel do'n and ta!e rabbit-li!e bites out o# them. I# there are such nice lettuces here" it is because the 9e< Salley is glacial" 'ith the characteristic mineral richness o# soil once a glacial mantle has retreated. ;uch #urther along the valley" hours o# strenuous 'al!ing #rom the tidy #arms" one comes upon the glacier itsel#" massive and terri#ying. It loo!s li!e a tablecloth 'aiting #or a tug to straighten out its #olds" but these #olds are the si>e o# houses and are made o# ra>or-sharp ice" and occasionally release agoni>ed bello's as they rearrange themselves in the summer sun. It is hard to conceive" 'hen standing at the edge o# the cruel glacier" ho' this #ro>en bul! could have a role to play in the gestation o# vegetables and lush grass only a #e' !ilometres along the valley" to imagine that something as apparently antithetical to a green #ield as a glacier could be responsible #or the #ield?s #ertility. &iet>sche" 'ho o#ten 'al!ed in the 9e< Salley carrying a pencil

and leather-bound noteboo! B?+nly thoughts 'hich come #rom 'al!ing have any value?C" dre' an analogy 'ith the dependence o# positive elements in human li#e on negative ones" o# #ul#ilment on di##icultiesA %hen we behold those deeply(furrowed hollows in which glaciers have lain, we think it hardly possible that a dme will come when a wooded, grassy valley, watered by streams, will spread itself out upon rhe same spot. So it is, too, in the history of mankind2 the most savage forces beat a path, and are mainly destructive. but their work was nonc(the(less necessary, in order that later a gender civi( li ation might raise its house. #he frightful energies ( those which are called evil B are the Cyclopean architects and road(makers of humanity.

82 But #right#ul di##iculties are sadly" o# course" not enough. All lives are di##icultG 'hat ma!es some o# them #ul#illed as 'ell is the manner in 'hich pains have been met. :very pain is an indistinct signal that something is 'rong" 'hich may engender either a good or bad result depending on the sagacity and strength o# mind o# the su##erer An<iety may precipitate panic" or an accurate analysis o# 'hat is amiss A sense o# in@ustice may lead to murder" or to a ground-brea!ing 'or! o# economic theory. :nvy may lead to bitterness" or to a decision to compete 'ith a rival and the production o# a masterpiece. As &iet>sche?s beloved ;ontaigne had e<plained in the #inal chapter o# the :ssays" the art o# living lies in #inding uses #or our adversitiesA %e must leam to suffer whatever we cannot avoid. 8ur life is composed, like the harmony of the world, of discords as well as of different tones, sweet and harsh, sharp and fiat, soft and loud. If a musician liked only some of them, what could he sing, 4e has got to know how tu use all of them and blend them together. So too must we with good and ill, which are of one substance with our life. And some 700 years later" &iet>sche returned to the thoughtA I# only 'e 'ere #ruit#ul #ields" 'e 'ould at bottom let nothing perish unused and see in every event" thing and man 'elcome manure. %o' then to be #ruit#ulI

87 Born in Urbino in 8507" $aphael #rom an early age displayed such an interest in dra'ing that his #ather too! the boy to Perugia to 'or! as an apprentice to the reno'ned Pietro Perugino. %e 'as soon e<ecuting 'or!s o# his o'n and by his late teens had painted several portraits o# members o# the court o# Urbino" and altar-pieces #or churches in Citta di Castello" a day s ride #rom Urbino across the mountains on the road to Perugia. But $aphael" one o# &iet>sche?s #avourite painters" !ne' he 'as not then a great artist" #or he had seen the 'or!s o# t'o men" ;ichelangelo Buonarroti and )eonardo da Smci. *hey had sho'n him that he 'as unable to paint #igures in motion" and despite an aptitude #or pictorial geometry" that he had no grasp o# linear perspective. *he envy could have gro'n monstrous. $aphael turned it into manure instead. In 8-05" at the age o# t'enty-one" he le#t Urbino #or 9lorence in order to study the 'or! o# his t'o masters. %e e<amined their cartoons in the %all o# the ,reat Council 'here )eonardo had 'or!ed on the Battle o#Anghiari and ;ichelangelo on the Battle o# Cascina. %e imbibed the lessons o# )eonardo and ;ichelangelo?s anatomical dra'ings and #ollo'ed their e<ample o# dissecting and dra'ing corpses. %e learned #rom )eonardo?s Adoration o# the ;agi and his cartoons o# the Sirgin and Child" and loo!ed closely at an unusual portrait )eonardo had been as!ed to e<ecute #or a nobleman" 9rancesco del ,iocondo" 'ho had 'anted a li!eness o# his 'i#e" a young beauty 'ith a some'hat enigmatic smile. *he results o# $aphael?s e<ertions 'ere soon apparent. Sve can compare Portrait o# a (oung Doman 'hich $aphael had dra'n be#ore moving to 9lorence 'ith Portrait o# a Doman completed a #e' years a#ter. ;ona had given $aphael the idea o# a hal#-length seated pose in 'hich the arms provided the base o# a pyramidal composition. he had taught him ho' to use contrasting a<es #or the head" shoulder and hands in order to lend volume to a #igure. Dhereas the 'oman dra'n in Urbino had loo!ed a'!'ardly constricted in her clothes" her arms unnaturally cut o##" the 'oman #rom 9lorence 'as mobile and at ease. $aphael had not spontaneously come into possession o# his tal entsG he had become great by responding intelligently to a sense o#

in#eriority that 'ould have led lesser men to despair. *he career path o##ered a &iet>schean lesson in the bene#its o# 'isely interpreted painA 1on't talk about giftedness, inborn talents< 8ne can name all kinds of great men who were not very gifted. #hey acquired greatness, became 'geniuses' Cas we put itD through qualities about whose lack no man aware of them likes to speak2 all of them had that diligent seriousness of a craftsman, learning first to construct rhe parrs properly before daring to make a great whole. #hey allowed them( selves time for it, because they took more pleasure in making the little, secondary things well than in the effect of a da ling whole. $aphael had been able - to use &iet>sche?s terms U to sublimate Xsublimieren^" spirituali>e ByergeistigenC and raise Bau#hebenC to #ruit#ulness the di##iculties in his path.

85 *he philosopher had a practical as 'ell as a metaphorical interest in horticulture. +n resigning #rom Basle University in 8034" &iet>sche had set his heart on becoming a pro#essional gardener. ?(ou !no' that my pre#erence is #or a simple" natural 'ay o# li#e2 he in#ormed his surprised mother" ?and I am becoming increasingly eager #or it. *here is no other cure #or my health. I need real 'or!" 'hich ta!es time and induces tiredness 'ithout mental strain.? %e remembered an old to'er in &aumburg near his mother?s house" 'hich he planned to rent 'hile loo!ing a#ter the ad@oining garden. *he gardening li#e began 'ith enthusiasm in eptember 8034 - but there 'ere soon problems. &iet>sche?s poor eyesight prevented him #rom seeing 'hat he 'as trimming" he had di##iculty bending his bac!" there 'ere too many leaves Bit 'as autumnC and a#ter three 'ee!s" he #elt he had no alternative but to give up. (et traces o# his horticultural enthusiasm survived in his philosophy" #or in certain passages" he proposed that 'e should loo! at our di##iculties li!e gardeners. At their roots" plants can be odd and unpleasant" but a person 'ith !no'ledge and #aith in their potential 'ill lead them to bear beauti#ul #lo'ers and #ruit - @ust as" in li#e" at root level" there may be di##icult emotions and situations

'hich can nevertheless result" through care#ul cultivation" in the greatest achievements and @oys. 8ne can dispose of one's drives like a gardener and, though few know it, cultivate the shoots of anger, pity, curiosity, anity as productively and profitably as a beautiful fruit tree on a trellis. But most o# us #ail to recogni>e the debr 'e o'e to these shoots o# di##iculty. De are liable to thin! that an<iety and envy have nothing legitimate to teach us and so remove them li!e emotional 'eeds. De believe" as &iet>sche put it" that ?the higher is not allo'ed to gro' out o# the lo'er" not allo'ed to have gro'n at all... everything #irst-rate must be causa sui Kthe cause o# itsel#L?. (et ?good and honoured things? 'ere" &iet>sche stressed" ?art#ully related" !notted and crocheted to ... 'ic!ed" apparently antithetical things?. ?)ove and hate" gratitude and revenge" good nature and anger . .. belong together2 'hich does not mean that they have to be e<pressed together" but that a positive may be the result o# a negative success#ully gardened. *here#oreA #he emotions of haired, envy, covetousness and lust for domina( tion 6are7 life(conditioning emotions . . . which must fundamentally and essentially be present in the total economy of life. #o cut out every negative root would simultaneously mean chok( ing off positive elements that might arise from it further up the stem of the plant. De should not #eel embarrassed by our di##iculties" only by our #ailure to gro' anything beauti#ul #rom rhem.

8It 'as #or their apparent appreciation o# the point that &iet>sche loo!ed bac! in admiration ro the ancient ,ree!s. It is tempting 'hen contemplating their serene temples at dus!" li!e those at Paestum" a #e' !ilometres #rom orrento E 'hich &iet>sche visited 'ith ;al'ida von ;eysenbug in early 8033 - to imagine that the ,ree!s 'ere an unusually measured people 'hose temples 'ere the out'ard mani#estations o# an order they

#elt 'ithin themselves and their society. *his had been the opinion o# the great classicist 6ohann Dinc!elmann B8383-.0C and had 'on over successive generations o# ,erman university pro#essors. But &iet>sche proposed that #ar #rom arising out o# serenity" classical ,ree! civili>ation had arisen #rom the sublimation o# the most sinister #orcesA *he greater and more terrible the passions are that an age" a people" an individual can permit themselves" because they arc capable o# employing them as a means" the higher stands their culture. *he temples might have loo!ed calm" but they 'ere the #lo'ers o# 'ell-gardened plants 'ith dar! roots. *he 1ionysiac #estivals sho'ed both the dar!ness and the attempt to control and cultivate itA 0othing astonishes the observer of the $reek world more than when he discovers that from time to rime the $reeks made as it were a festival of all their passions and evil natural inclinations and even instituted a kind of official order of proceedings in the celebration of what was all(too(human in them ... #hey took this all(too(human to be inescapable and, instead of reviling it, preferred to accord it a kind of right of the second rank through regulating it within rhe usages of society and religion2 indeed, everything in man possessing power they called divine and inscribed it on the walls of their 4eaven. #hey do not repudiate the natural drive that finds expression in the evil qualities but regulate it and, as soon as they have discovered sufficient prescriptive measures to provide these wild waters with the least harmful means of channeling and outflow, confine them to definite cults and days. #his is the root of all the moral free( mindedness of antiquity. 8ne granted to the evil and suspicious ... a moderate discharge, and did not strive after their total annihilation. *he ,ree!s did not cut out their adversitiesG they cultivated themA All passions have a phase when they are merely disastrous, in which they draw their victims down by weight of stupidity ( and a later, very much later one in which they marry the spirit, 'spirituali e' themselves. In former times, because of the stupidity of passion, people waged war on passion itself2 they plotted to destroy it ... 1estroying the passions and desires merely in order to avoid their stupidity and the disagreeable consequences of their stupidity seems to us nowadays to be itseif simply an acute form of stupidity. %e no longer marvel at dentists who pull on teeth to stop them hurting.

9ul#ilment is reached by responding 'isely to di##iculties that could tear one apart. =ueamish spirits may be tempted to pull the molar out at once or come o## Pi> Corvatsch on the lo'er slopes. &iet>sche urged us to endure.

8. And #ar #rom coincidentally" never to drin!. 1ear *other, If I write to you today, it is about one of the most unpleasant and painful incidents I have ever been responsibkfoi(. In fact, I have misbehaved very badly, and I don't know whether you can or will forgive me. Ipickupmy pen most reluctantly and with a heavy 'heart, especially when I think back to our pleasant life together during the "aster holidays, which was never spoiled by any discord. )ast Sunday, I got drunk, and I have no excuse, except that I did not know how much I could take, and I was rather excited in the afternoon. o 'rote eighteen-year-old 9riedrich to his mother 9ran>is!a a#ter #our glasses o# beer in the halls o#Attenburg near his school in the spring o# 80.7. A #e' years later" at Bonn and )eip>ig universities" he #elt irritation 'ith his #ello' studenrs #or their love o# alcoholG * o#ten #ound the e<pressions o# good #ello'ship in the clubhouse e<tremely distaste#ul ... I could hardly bear certain individuals because o# their beery materialism.? *he attitude remained constant throughout the philosopher?s adult li#eA Alcoholic drinks are no good for me, a glass of wine or beer a day is quite enough to make life fc. me a 'Hale of #ears' ( *unich is where my antipodes live. ?%o' much beer there is in the ,erman intelligenceJ? he complained. ?Perhaps the modern :uropean discontent is due to the #act that our #ore#athers 'ere given to drin!ing through the entire ;iddle Ages .. . *he ;iddle Ages meant the alcohol poisoning o# :urope.? In the spring o# 8038" &iet>sche 'ent on holiday 'ith his sister to the %otel du Parc in )ugano. *he hotel bill #or 2-4 ;arch sho's that he dran! #ourteen glasses o# mil!.

It 'as more than a personal taste. Anyone see!ing to be happy 'as strongly advised never to drin! anything alcoholic at all. &everA I cannot advise all more spiritual natures too seriously to abstain from alcohol absolutely. %ater suffices. DhyI Because $aphael had not drun! to escape his envy in Urbino in 8-05" he had gone to 9lorence and learned ho' to be a great painter. Because tendhal had not drun! in 800- to escape his despair over )?%omme =ui craint d?etre gouveme" he had gardened the pain #or seventeen years and published 1e Samour in 8022A If you refuse to let your own suffering lie upon you even for an hour and if you constantly try to prevent and forestall all possible distress way ahead of time. if you experience suffering and displeasure as evil, hateful, worthy of annihilation, and as a defect of existence, then it is clear that L you harbour in your heart7 . . . the religion of comfortableness. 4ow little you know of human happiness, you comfortable . . . people, for happiness and unhappiness arc( sisters and even twins that cither grow up together or, as in your case, remain small together.

83 &iet>sche?s antipathy to alcohol e<plains simultaneously his antipathy to 'hat had been the dominant British school o# moral philosophyA Utilitarianism" and its greatest proponent" 6ohn tuart ;ill. *he Utilitarians had argued that in a 'orld beset by moral ambiguities" the 'ay to @udge 'hether an action 'as right or 'rong 'as to measure the amount o# pleasure and pain it gave rise to. ;ill proposed thatA 6A7ctions are right in proportion as they tend to promote happiness, wrong as they tend to produce the reverse of happiness. +y happiness is intended pleasure, and the absence of pain. by unhappmess, pain, and the privation of pleasure. *he thought o# Utilitarianism" and even the nation #rom 'hich it had sprung" enraged &iet>scheA "uropean vulgarity, the plebeianism of modem ideas 6is the work and invention off "ngland.

*an does not strive for happiness. only the "nglish do that. %e 'as" o# course" also striving #or happinessG he simply believed that it could not be attained as painlessly as the Utilitarians appeared to be suggestingA All these modes of thought which assess the value of things according to pleasure and pain, thai is to say according to attendant and secondary phenomena, are foreground modes of thought and naiveties which anyone conscious of creative powers and an artist's conscience will look down on with derision. An artist?s conscience because artistic creation o##ers a most e<plicit e<ample o# an activity 'hich may deliver immense #ul#ilment but al'ays demands immense su##ering. %ad tendhal assessed the value o# his art according to the ?pleasure? and ?pain? it had at once brought him" there 'ould have been no advance #rom )?%omme =ui craint d?etre gouverne to the summit o# his po'ers. Instead o# drin!ing beer in the lo'lands" &iet>sche as!ed us to accept the pain o# the climb. %e also o##ered a suggestion #or to'nplannersA #he secret for harvesting from existence the greatest fruitfulness and the greatest en&oyment is ( to live dangerously< +uild your cities on the slopes of Hesuvius< And i# one 'ere still tempted to have a drin!" but had no high opinion o# Christianity" &iet>sche added a #urther argument to dissuade one #rom doing so. Anyone 'ho li!ed drin!ing had" he argued" a #undamentally Christian outloo! on li#eA #o believe that wine makes cheerful I would have to be a Christian, that is to say believe what is for me in particular an absurdity.

l0 %e had more e<perience o# Christianity than o# alcohol. %e 'as born in the any village o# $oc!en near )eip>ig in a<ony. %is #ather. Carl )ud'ig &iet>sche" 'as the parson" his deeply devout mother 'as hersel# the daughter o# a parson" 1avid :rnst +ehler" 'ho too! services in the village o# Pobles an hour a'ay. *heir son 'as bapti>ed be#ore an assembly o# the local clergy in $oc!en church in +ctober 8055.

9riednch loved his #ather" 'ho died 'hen he 'as only #our" and revered his memory throughout his li#e. +n the one occasion 'hen he had a little money" a#ter 'inning a court case against --- publisher in 800-" he ordered a large headstone #or his #ather?s grave on 'hich he had carved a =uotation #rom Corinthians Bi Cor 87.0CA 1ie )iebe hdret nimmer au# Charity never #aileth ?%e 'as the per#ect embodiment o# a country pastorJ &iet>sche recalled o# Carl )ud'ig. ?A tall" delicate #igure" a #ine-#eatured #ace" amiable and bene#icent. :very'here 'elcomed and beloved as much #or his 'itty conversation as #or his 'arm sympathy" esteemed and loved by the #armers" e<tending blessings by 'ord and deed in his capacity as a spiritual guide?. (et this #ilial love did not prevent &iet>sche #rom harbouring the deepest reservations about the consolation that his #ather" and Christianity in general" could o##er those in painA I bring against the Christian Church the most terrible charge any prosecutor has ever uttered. #o me it is the extremest thinkable form of corruption ... 6it7 has left nothing untouched by its depravity ... I call Christianity the one great curse, the one great intrinsic depravity . . . 8ne does well to put gloves on when reading the 0ew #estament. #he proximity of so much uncleanliness almost forces one to do so . . . "verything in it is cowardice, everything is self(deception and closing one's eyes to oneself ... 1o I still have to add that in the entire 0ew #estament there is only one solitary figure one is obliged to respect, -ilate, the !oman governor. Vuite simplyA It is indecent to be a Christian today.

84 %o' does the &e' *estament console us #or our di##icultiesI By suggesting that many o# these eii?e not di##iculties at all but rather virtuesA

If one is worried about timidity, the 0ew #estament points out2 +lessed are the meek2 tor they shall inherit the earth. C*atthew A.AD If one is worried about having no friends, the 0ew #estament suggests2 +lessed are ye, when men shall hate you, and when they shall separate you from their company, and shall reproach you, and cast out your name as evil ... your reward is great in heaven. C)uke I.;;(=D If one is worried about an exploitative &ob, the 0ew #estament advises2 Servants, obey in all things your masters according to the flesh ... @nowing that of the )ord ye shall receive the reward of the inheritance2 for ye serve the )ord Christ. CColossians =.;;(MD If one is worried at having no money, the 0ew #estament tells us2 It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle, than for a rich man to enter into the kingdom of $od. C*ark FG.;AD *here may be di##erences bet'een such 'ords and a drin! but &iet>sche insisted on an essential e=uivalence. Both Christianity and alcohol have the po'er to convince us that 'hat 'e previously thought de#icient in ourselves and the 'orld does not re=uire attentionG both 'ea!en our resolve to garden our problemsG both deny us the chance o# #ul#ilmentA #he two great "uropean narcotics, alcohol and Christianity. Christianity had" in &iet>sche?s account" emerged #rom the minds o# timid slaves in the $oman :mpire 'ho had lac!ed the stomach to climb to the tops o# mountains" and so had built themselves a philosophy claiming that their bases 'ere delight#ul. Christians had 'ished to en@oy the real ingredients o# #ul#ilment Ba position in the 'orld" se<" intellectual mastery" creativityC but did not have the courage to endure the di##iculties these goods demanded. *hey had there#ore #ashioned a hypocritical creed denouncing 'hat they 'anted but 'ere too 'ea! to #ight #or 'hile praising 'hat they did not 'ant but happened to have. Po'erlessness became ?goodness?" baseness ?humility?" submission to people one hated ?obedience? and" in &iet>sche?s phrase" ?not-being-able-to-ta!e-revenge? turned into ?#orgiveness?. :very #eeling o# 'ea!ness 'as overlaid 'ith a sancti#ying name" and made to seem Ra voluntary achievement" something 'anted" chosen" a deed" an accomplishment?. Addicted to ?the religion o# com#ortableness?" Christians" in their value system" had given precedence to 'hat 'as easy" not 'hat 'as desirable"

and so had drained li#e o# its potential.

20 %aving a ?Christian? perspective on di##iculty is not limited to members o# the Christian churchG it is #or &iet>sche a permanent psychological possibility. ??De all become Christians 'hen 'e pro#ess indi##erence to 'hat 'e secretly long #or but do not have" 'hen 'e blithely say that 'e do not need love or a position in the 'orld" money or success" creativity or health - 'hile the comers o# our mouths t'itch 'ith bitternessG and 'e 'age silent 'ars against 'hat 'e have publicly renounced" #iring shots over the parapet" sniping #rom the trees. %o' 'ould &iet>sche have pre#erred us to approach our setbac!sI *o continue to believe in 'hat 'e 'ish #or" even 'hen -'e do not have it" and may never. Put another 'ay" to resist the temptation to denigrate and declare evil certain goods because they have proved hard to secure - a pattern o# behaviour o# 'hich &iet>sche?s o'n" in#initely tragic li#e o##ers us perhaps the best model.

28 :picurus had #rom an early age been among his #avourite ancient philosophersG he called him ?the soul-soother o# later anti=uity?" ?one o# the greatest men" the inventor o# an heroic-idyllic mode o# philosophi>ing?. Dhat especially appealed to him 'as :picurus?s idea that happiness involved a li#e among #riends. But he 'as rarely to !no' the contentment o# communityA ?It is our lot to be intellectual hermits and occasionally to have a conversation 'ith someone li!e-minded.? At thirty" he composed a hymn to loneliness" ?%ymnns au# die :insam!ei#" 'hich he did not have the heart to #inish. *he search #or a 'i#e 'as no less sorro'#ul" the problem partly caused by &iet>sche?s appearance - his e<traordinarily large 'alrus moustache - and his shyness" 'hich bred the gauche sti## manner o# a retired colonel. In the spring o# 803." on a trip to ,eneva" &iet>sche #ell in love 'ith a t'enty-three-year-old" green-eyed blonde" ;athilde *rampedach. 1uring a conversation on the

poetry o# %enry )ong#ello'" &iet>sche mentioned that he had never come across a ,erman version o# )ong#ello'?s ?:<celsior?. ;athilde said she had one at home and o##ered to copy it out #or him. :ncouraged" &iet>sche invited her out #or a 'al!. he brought her landlady as a chaperone. A #e' days later" he o##ered to play the piano #or her" and the ne<t she heard #rom the thirty-oneyear-old Pro#essor o# Classical Philology at Basle University 'as a re=uest #or marriage. ?1o you not thin! that together each o# us 'ill be better and more #ree than either o# us could be alone and so e<celsior( as!ed the play#ul colonel. ?Dill you dare to come 'ith me ... on all the paths o# living and thin!ingI? ;athilde didnRt dare. A succession o# similar re@ections too! their toll. In the light o# his depression and ill health" $ichard Dagner decided that there 'ere t'o possible remediesA ?%e must either marry or 'rite an opera?. But &iet>sche couldn?t 'rite an opera" and apparently lac!ed the talent to produce even a decent tune. BIn 6uly 8032" he sent the conductor %ans von Bulo' a piano duet he had 'ritten" as!ing #or an honest appraisal. It --.Pas" replied von Bulo'" ?the most e<treme #antastical e<travagance" the most irritating and antimusical set o# notes on manuscript paper I have seen #or a long time?" and he 'ondered 'hether &ier>sche might have been pulling his leg. ?(ou designated your music as E#right#ulE - it truly is.-C Dagner gre' more insistent. *or %eaven?s sa!e" marry a rich 'omanJ? he intoned" and entered into communication 'ith &iet>sche?s doctor" +tto :iser" 'ith 'hom he speculated that the philosopher?s ill health 'as caused by e<cessive masturbation. It 'as an irony lost on Dagner that the one rich 'oman 'ith 'hom &iet>sche 'as truly in love 'as Dagner?s o'n 'i#e" Cosima. 9or years" he care#ully disguised his #eelings #or her under the cloa! o# #riendly solicitude. It 'as only once he had lost his reason that the reality emerged. ?Ariadne I love you"? 'rote &iet>sche" or" as he signed himsel#" 1ionysus" in a postcard sent re. Cosima #rom *urin at the beginning o# 6anuary 8004. &evertheless" &iet>sche intermittently agreed 'ith the Dagnerian thesis on the importance o# marriage. In a letter to his married #riend 9ran> +verbec!" he complained" ?*han!s to your 'i#e" things are a hundred times better #or you than #or me. (ou have a nest together. I have" at best" a cave . .. +ccasional contact 'ith people is li!e a holiday" a redemption #rom EmeE.? In 8002" he hoped once more that he had #ound a suitable 'i#e"

)ou Andreas- alome" his greatest" most pain#ul love. he 'as t'enty-one" beauti#ul" clever" #lirtatious and #ascinated by his philosophy. &iet>sche 'as de#enceless. #J 'ant to be lonely no longer" bur to leam again to be a human being. Ah" here I have practically everything to leamJR he told her. *hey spent t'o 'ee!s together in the *autenburg #orest and in )ucerne posed 'ith their mutual #riend Paul $ee #or an unusual photograph. But )ou 'as more interested in &iet>sche as a philosopher than as a husband. *he re@ection thre' him into rene'ed prolonged" violent depression. ?;y lac! o# con#idence is no' immense"? he told +verbec!" ?everything I hear ma!es me thin! that people despise me.? %e #elt particular bitterness to'ards his mother and sister" 'ho had meddled in the relationship 'ith )ou" and no' bro!e o## contact 'ith them" deepening his isolation. B?I do not li!e my mother" and it is pain#ul #or me to hear my sister?s voice. I al'ays became ill 'hen I 'as 'ith them2C *here 'ere pro#essional di##iculties" too. &one o# his boo!s sold more than 2"000 copies in his sane li#e-timeG most sold a #e' hundred. Dith only a modest pension and some shares inherited #rom an aunt on 'hich to survive" the author could rarely pay #or ne' dothes" and ended up loo!ing" in his 'ords" ?scraped li!e a mountain sheep?. In hotels" he stayed in rhe cheapest rooms" o#ten #ell into arrears 'ith the rent and could a##ord neither heating nor the hams and sausages he loved. %is health 'as as problematic. 9rom his schooldays" he had su##ered #rom a range o# ailmentsA headaches" indigestion" vomiting" di>>iness" near blindness and insomnia" many o# these the symptoms o# the syphilis he had almost certainly contracted in a Cologne brothel in 9ebruary 80.- Bthough &iet>sche claimed he had come a'ay 'ithout touching anything e<cept a pianoC. In a letter to ;al'ida von ;eysenbug 'ritten three years a#ter his trip to orrento" he e<plained" ?As regards torment and sel#-denial" my li#e during these past years can match that o# any ascetic o# any time . . 2 And to his doctor he reported" ?Constant pain" a #eeling o# being hal#-paralysed" a condition closely related to seasic!ness" during 'hich 8 #ind it di##icult to spea! - this #eeling lasts several hours a day. 9or my diversion I have raging sei>ures Bthe most recent one #orced me to vomit #or three days and three nightsG I thirsted a#ter deathC. Can?t readJ +nly seldom can I 'riteJ Can?t deal 'ith my #ello'sJ Can?t listen to musicJ? 9inally" at the beginning o# 6anuary 8004" &iet>sche bro!e do'n in *urin?s Pia>>a Carlo Albeito and embraced a horse" 'as carried

bac! to his boarding-house" 'here he thought o# shooting the Maiser" planned a 'ar against anti- emites" and gre' certain that he 'as - depending on the hour - 1ionysus" 6esus" ,od" &apoleon" the Ming o# Italy" Buddha" Ale<ander the ,reat" Caesar" Soltaire" Ale<ander %er>en and $ichard DagnerG be#ore he 'as bundled into a train and ta!en to an asylum in ,ermany to be loo!ed a#ter by his elderly mother and sister until his death eleven years later at the age o# #i#ty-#ive.

22 And yet through appalling loneliness" obscurity" poverty and ill health" &iet>sche did not mani#est the behaviour o# 'hich he had accused ChristiansG he did not ta!e against #riendship" he did not attac! eminence" 'ealth" or 'ell-being. *he Abbe ,aliani and ,oethe remained heroes. *hough ;athilde had 'ished #or no more than a conversation about poetry" he continued to believe that *or the male sic!ness o# sel#-contempt the surest cure is to be loved by a clever 'oman.? *hough sic!ly and lac!ing ;ontaigne or tendhal?s de<terity on a horse" he remained attached to the idea o# an active li#eA ?:arly in the morning" at brea! o# day" in all the #reshness and da'n o# one?s strength" to read a ?boo! - I call that viciousJ? %e #ought hard to be happy" but 'here he did not succeed he did not mm against 'hat he had once aspired to. %e remained committed to 'hat 'as in his eyes the most important characteristic o# a noble human beingA to be someone 'ho ?no longer denies?.

27 A#ter seven hours o# 'al!ing" much o# it in the rain" it 'as in a state o# e<treme e<haustion that I reached the summit o#Pi> Corvatsch" high above the clouds that dec!ed the :ngadine valleys belo'. In my ruc!sac! I carried a 'ater-bottle" an :mmental sand'ich and an envelope #rom the %otel :del'eiss in ils-;aria on 'hich 8 had that morning 'ritten a =uote #rom the mountain philosopher" 'ith the intention o# #acing Italy and reading it to the 'ind and the roc!s at 7"500 metres. )i!e his pastor #ather" &iet>sche had been committed to the tas!

o# consolation. )i!e his #ather" he had 'ished to o##er us paths to #ul#ilment. But unli!e pastors" and dentists 'ho pull out throbbing teeth and gardeners 'ho destroy plants 'ith ill-#avoured roots" he had @udged di##iculties to be a critical prere=uisite o# #ul#ilment" and hence !ne' saccharine consolations to be ultimately more cruel than help#ulA *he 'orst sic!ness o# men has originated in the 'ay they have combated their sic!nesses. Dhat seemed a cure has in the long run produced something 'orse than 'hat it 'as supposed to overcome. *he means 'hich 'or!ed immediately" anaestheti>ing and into<icating" the so-called consolations" 'ere ignorantly supposed to be actual cures. *he #act 'as not noticed ... that these instantaneous alleviations o#ten had to be paid #or -'ith a general and pro#ound 'orsening o# the complaint. &ot everything 'hich ma!es us #eel better is good #or us. &ot everything 'hich hurts may be bad. *o regard states o# distress in general as an ob@ection" as something that must be abolished" is the Ksupreme idiocyL" in a general sense a real disaster in its conse=uences ... almost as stupid as the 'ill to abolish bad 'eather.

Ac!no'ledgements Copyright Ac!no'ledgementA Picture Ac!no'ledgements Inde<&otes Consolation #or Unpopularity

Aside #ror. i mention o# Aristophanes and =uotci-i ins #rom Plato?s Phaedo" the portrait o# ocrates is dra'n #rom Plato?s early and middle dialogues Bthe so-called ocraric dialoguesCA Apology" CharmidetG" Crito" :uthydemus" :uthyphro" ,orgias" %ippias ;a@or" %ippias ;inor" Ion" )aches" )ysis" ;ene<enus" ;eno" Protagoras and $epublic" boo8e I. Vuotadons ta!en #romA *he )ast 1ays o# ocrates" Plato" translated by %ugh *redennic!" Penguin" 8403 :arly ocratic 1ialogues" Plato" translated by lain )ane" Penguin" 8403 Protagoras and ;e'" Plato" translated by D. M. C. ,uthrie" Penguin" 8403 ,orgias" Plato" translated by $obin Dater#ield" +UP" 8445. p. 5 o ... deathsA Apology. 2"4d p. 8- Dhenever . . . angleA )aches. i00a p. 80 )et?s - . courageousA )adies" i4oe-i46a p. 80 Ar" " " batdeA )aches" 8480 p. 20 By . inescapableA ;eno" 30c-34a p. 20 I... ciriesA Apology" 7.b p. 20 I . " . v" i.?88-beingA Apology" 7.d pp. 20 4 I . . " #ello'-citi>enA Apology" 24d p. 24 I narro'A Apology" 7.7 p. i2 I#... chooseA ,orgias" 532a-b pp. 72-7 *he . . . himA ,orgias" 53ie-532a p. 78 Sv?hcn . . . publicG Crito" 53b p. 75 Pon?t. . . sayA Crito" 53a-50a

p. 7. 8 . - timeA Apology" 73a-b p. 73 L i ... sleepingA Apology" 700J 7ia p. 74 In ... o##A Phaedo" n.c-d p. 74 Dhen . . . himsel#A Phaedo" %3a-d p. 50 Dhat. . . #riends?A P!aedo" ii3d p. 50 And . . . iriiiiiA Phaedo" ii0a Consolation #or &ot %aving :nough ;oney Vuotations ta!en #romA *he :ssential :picurus" :picurus" translated by :ugene +?Connor" Prometheus Boo!-"8447 *he :picurean Inscription" 1iogenes o# +inoanda" translated by ;artin 9erguson mith" Bibliopolis" 8447 +n the &ature o# the Universe" )ucretius" translated by $. :. )atham" revised by 6ohn ,od'in" Penguin" 8445 p. -0 I#. .. #ormsA 9ragments" vi.io p. -0 Pleasure . . . li#eA )etter to ;enoeceus" 820 p. -0 *he . . . thisA 9ragments" -4 pp. -0--8 *he . .. happinessA )etter to ;enoeceus" 822 p. -- A ... maladyA )ucretius" 1e$erum &atura. 888.8030 p. -- 6ust. . . mindA 9ragments" -5 p. -. end . . . li!eA 9ragments" 74 p. -3 +#. . . #riendshipA Principa?i l.?octrines"

p. -3 Be#ore . . . QQ ol#A =uoted in eneca" 9.pPile" <i<"80 p. -0 De . .. poliucsA Satican ayings. y p. -0 *he . . . p!?iiyantA )etter to ;enoeceus" 82B8 p. -4 Dhat. . . anticipationA )etter to ;enoeceus" 82.8-p. -4 *here .. . livingA )etter 80 ;enoeceus" 82253&otes p. _u +#".. necessaryA Principal 1octrines" 2y p. .3 Plain . - - a'ayA )etter to ;enoeceus" 870 p. .2 As ... 'ithoutA Porphyry reporting :picurus?s vie' in +n Abstinence" 8.-8..--2.8 p. .2 &othing - - - littleA 9ragments" .4 p. .7 *he . . . accomplishedIA Satican ayings" 2* p. .5 *he - " . 6oyA Satican ayings" 08 p. .- idle opinionsA Principal 1octrines" 20 p. .3 )u<urious . . . #leshA 1iogenes oA? +inoanda" 9ragment 804 p. .3 +ne . . . over#lo'ingA 1iogenes ot? +inoanda" 9ragment *+ p. .3 $eal. . . scienceA 1iogenes o#

+inoanda" 9ragment 2 p. .3 %aving . . . salvationA 1iogenes o# +inoanda" 9ragment 7 BadaptedC p. .0 chosen . . . sensesA )ucretius" 1e $erum &atura" S.%77-5 p. .0 send . . . li!eA 9ragments" 74 p. .4 ergo . . hcrbas?. )ucretius" 1e$en?.iU &aiura" 88.20-77 p. 30 Dhen " . . povertyA Satican aying. 2p. 30 ;an!ind . . . seasA )ucretius" 1e $erum Mrn AAru" `.8570-?" p. 30 It... gi.i?.CdA )etter io ;enoeceus" 824 CB-?-nso?latio?J?.-6or9nu?"iA?dt'n Vuotations ta!en h-orriA *ilt.? Annals o# Imperial Mome" *acitus" *ranslated by ;ichael ,rant" Penguin" [44. *?lG? *'elve Caesars" uetonius" translated h<? $obert ,raves" Penguin" 8448 translated by 6ohn ;. Cooper and6. 9. Procope" CUP" 844&aturales Vuaestiones i _ n" eneca" translated by *. %. Corcoran" )oeb%arvard"8432 p. 3. Dhere " . . tutorG *acitus" <v..2 p. 3. I ... eni-* *acitus" <v-.7 p. 33 %e . . . undisturbedA :pistulae ;orales" civ.20-4

p. 30 the ;onsterA uetonius. Caligula" IS.22 p. 30 on ... nec!JG uetonius. Caligula" iv.70 p. 34 I. " . itA :pistulae ;orales" )<<vin.7 p. 02 *here . . . vicesA 1eira" 88.7..--. p. 05 Prosperity . . . tempersA 1eira" 88.28.3 p. 05 Dhat. .. columnsIA 1eira" 8.84-5 pp. 05-- Dhy. . . servantIA 1eira" 88.2-.7 p. 0- Dhy . . . tal!ingIA 1e Ira" 888.7-.2 p. 0- Is ... misbehaveIA 1e 6ra" 88.78"5 p. 03 *here . . . dareA :pistulae ;orales" <ci-8p. 00 &othing . . . happenA :pistulae ;orales" <ci.5 p. 00 Dhat. . . 9ortuneA +# Ccnsolat'ne ad ;arciam" <i.7 p. 04 (ou . . . happened - " "IG 1e Consolatione ad ;arciam" i<.p. 04 Dho . . . immobileA &aturales Vuaestiones" i.vi.n-i2 p. 40 the . - " never-endingA 1e Consolatione ad ;arciam" iv.i p. 40 De . . . propertyA 1e Consolatione ad ;arciam" i<.i-2 p. 40 &o . . . hourA 1e Consoia tio'- ad. ;arciam" <.5 p. 48 K*he 'iseL. . . thought. . .A 1e Ira." II.I0.3 1ialogues and )etters" eneca" translated by p. 48 9ortune . . . o'nA :pisiulii#. ;orales" C. 1. &. Costa" Penguin" 8443 )<<n-3 )etters2rom a toic" eneca" translated by p. 48 &othing . . " 'hirlA :pisi idae ;orales"

$obin Campbell" Penguin" 84.4 <ci.3 ;oral :ssays" volume i" eneca" translated p. 48 Dhatever . . . empiresA :pistulae by 6ohn D. Basore" )oeb-%arvard" 8445 ;orales" <cu.. ;oral :ssays" volume n" eneca" translated p. 48 %o' . .. ruinsIA 2-.G [iPtulae ;orales" by 6ohn D. Basore" )oeb-%arvard" 844. <ci.4 ;oral and Political :ssays" eneca" p. 48 De . . . dieA :#nsuA?"G-E ;orales" <ci.i> 250 &otes p. 48 ;ortal. . . bin hA 1e Consolatione ad ;arciam" <i.i p. 48 $ec!on . . . everything- 1e 6ra" 88.78.5 p. 42 Vuotiens . - . pedstiA 1i Consolatione ad ;arciam" i<.7 p. 4- I... mysel#A :pistulae AI.i roles" <iv.i. p. 43 (ou . . . hopeA :pistulae .?? 'rales" <<iv.s p. 43 I. " - happenA :pistulae .QQorPi.i?s. FFIS. 8-2 p. 43l#.. . prisonIA :pistulae ;orale" <<iv.7 p. 43 ?I... no'I?A :pistulae ;orales" <siv.i3 p. 43 *he . . - goodA :pistulae ;orales" <v m.4 p.?-^-- Is... 9ortuneA :pistulae ;orales" .P888.--4 p. 44 top . - - povertyA Sita Beata. <<iii.i p. 4P I... hal#A Sita Beata" <<v.p. 40 *he . " - himsel#A 1e Constantsa" v.5 p. 40 *he . - - le#tA :pistulae ;orales" i<.5

p. 44 *he . . - tallA Sita Beata" <<n.2 p. 44 *he . . . themA :pistulae ;orales" i<.p. 44 &ever . . . meA Consolation to %elvia" v.5 p. 802 a ... spiritA 1c Constantia" <.7 pp. 802-7 ? o ... table?A 1e Constantia" <.2 p" 807 K*he . . . everythingA :pistulae ;orales" )<<<i-2p. 807 I... man!indA :pistulae ;orales" vi.3 pp. 807-5 Imagine - . " I8A ipsG :pistulae ;orales" )vi.i-2 p. 80- All... -'ithinG YGE.? Pulae ;orales" )SI.p. 803 Dhen . .. destine dA Bishop %ippolytus" $e#utation o# All %eresies" 8"28 B=uoted in A. A. )ong _ 1. &. edley" *he %ellenistic Philosophers" CUP" 8403" volume i" p. 70.C p.io0An. . .necessityA 1eira" in M-I. i p. 800 Dhen . . . philosopherA 1e *ran=uillitate Animi" <iv.7 p. no A ... doesA &aturales Vuaestiones" 88.8. pp. iio-n Among. . . airA &aturales Vuaestiones" vi.7i.i-2 p. in Dinter . .. endureA :pistulae ;orales" p. 882 Vuid... estA 1e Consolatione ad ;arciam" <i.i Consolation #or Inade=uacy Vuotations ta!en #romA *#ie Complete assays" ;ichel de ;ontaigne" translated by SI. A. creech" Penguin"

8448. *he notes re#er #irstly to the boo! number" then the essay number and lastly the page number. p. n. I. . . lettucesA 88.83.358 p" 88.8... dayA m.7.477 p 88. splendid. . . vie'sA iu-7-477 p" 88. the ... 'asA 88.82.--0 p. 883 stri!ingly . . . humourA 88.80.5.7 p. 883 It... boo!sA 888.7.472 p. n0 *here . . . ve<ationA 88.82.-55 pp. 880-84 ;an . . . KCiceroLA 88.82.-55 p. 884 the ... shitA 88.73.030 p. 820 Dherever. . . e=uino<A 88.82.-75 p. 820 I#... lengthA 88.-75 p. 820 here . . . *rebi>ondIA 88.82.-83 p. 820 1are - - . pigIA 8.85 -3 p. 828 De . . . e<cessiveA 88.82.-58 p. 828 *o . . . Uoc!head.sA 888.87.284 p. 828 +ur . . . behindA 888.-.800p. 822 Dhen . . . unapproachableA 88.82..73 p. 822 then . . . soulA 88.73.0.p. 822 *hat. . . themA 8.28.88p. 822 most. " " disorderlyA 8.28.88. pp. 822-7 so ... deathA 8.28.88. p. 827 K*hisL" . -itA ii 8.-.445 p. 827 %e ... blind#oldedA 8.7.8-

p. 827 *he . . . beingA 888.87.82.8 p. 825 :<cept. . . onceA 8.28.882 p. 825 admit - - . himA 8-28.882 p. 82- K*he ... itA 8.28.887 p. 82- to ... o##enceA 88"24.008 p. 82- I#. . . allA 8.28.88p. 82- everG? " " . conditionA 888.2.400 p. 82. Au . " " )idA 888.87.82.4 p. 82. )es. . . .iussiA 888.87.8278 p. 823 *he - . " reethA 888.-.4-. p. 823 he . " - dirchA 888.-.4.3 254p. 823 old croneA K88--.4.3 p. .820 %ad . . . nGi!edA introductory note p. 824 :very . " - completeA ni.-.ioo5 p- 824 :S)?*Q 'here . . . itJA 888.-.442 p" 824 +#... disruptedA 888.87"8272 p. 824 ;y . . - bedA 888.87.8272 p. 824 Dhen . . . 'iseA 888.-.442 p. 870 Dhat" . . po'erIA 888.4.8884 p. 870 It... beingA 888.4.8828 p. 870 ;ay . . . apartIA 888.-.8080 p. 872 +nce . . . climeA 888.4.8885 p. 875 It... oursA 888.87.822. p. 87- :ach . . . 'onderA iii.67.i22. p. 87- Dhen . . . 'orld?A 8-2..83. p. 87- *hey... saucesA 8.27.827 p. 87. scrupulously . . . cordsA 88.82...53 p. 87. gathered . . . clothA 8.27" Q.v. p. 87. In ... shouldersA 88.82.-70 p. 870 *heir. . . 'ivesA 8-78.275 p. 870 +ne . . . valourA 8.78.274 pp. 850-58 De . . . bo'sA 88.82.-28 p. 858 AhJ . " . breeches . . .A 8.78.258 p. 852 :very . . . anythingJA 8.78.278 p. 857 1e#ending . . . countryA 8.27.82. p. 857 *he " . . nothingA 88.82"--0 p. 85- the . . . perspicuityA 88.82..0. p- 85- that. . . itsel#A 888.87.8220 p- 85- Anyone . . - heightsA 88.82..87 p. 85. In ... #ireA 888.4.8880 p- 85. De . . . otherA 8.20.282 p- 853 Dhat. . . #oundA 8.20.288

p. 853 )uy . . . imageA 888.4.8882 B#ootnoteC p. 853 In ... onA 8.20"283 p. 850 pain#ul. . . harmA p. 82-" ;ontaigne?s *ravel 6ournal" translated by 1onald ;. 9rame" &orth Point Press" 8407 p. 850 ;any ... stallA 888.4.iro4 p. 8-2 I#. . . li#eA ii.i2.-57 p. 8-2 Dhat. . . gout. . .IA 88.82.-52 p. 8-7 I [ - [ etymologyA 88.83.354 p. -K-7 De ... emptyA 8.2-.8-7-5 p. 8-7 At... allA 88.83.370 p. 8-5 It. [ [ tennisA 8.2-.8-. p. 8-5 I... #eetA 88.82..05 p. 8-- torming . . . livesA 888.2.482 p. 8-- About. . . #aceA 88.24.000 &otes p. 8--8... gardeningA 8.20.44 p. 8--8 ... ieitucesA 88.83"358 p. 8-. It... capacitiesA P.-.438 p. 8-. r" . . herA i.28"883 p" 8-. I#... shitJ?A 8.70.2.5 p" 8-. *he - " . beingA in.i@.r2.i P" 8-3 I ... reCt+r A I)*2.-52 p. 8-38 [ - [ I themLA n. 83.350 p. 8-3 I... mrerestA 8.74.23. p. 8-3 I... iinotherG 88.80.5-0 p. 8-0 1iliLG uliy . . . paymentA 88.82.-.. p. 8-4 6ust " ParisA 8.2..845 p. 8-4 *he . paradedA 888.82.8837 p. 8.0 *he " " yoursel#A 88.83.35. pp. 8.0-.8 i " . . 9renchA 888.-.404 p- 8.88. . . themA 888.-.404 p. r.2 Dhenever . . . arse?. 8.2-.8-p. 8.2 In... everythingA 8"2..830 p. 8.78.. . reputations?. 88.80.5-0 Bmy italicsC p. 8.7 &o . . - bomA eneca" Consolation to %elv'" < v" 5 p" 8.5 I#" . " iEiiyA 888.82.884. p. 8.5 In . " A-?readA 888.2.482

p. 8.5 A ... miliesA 888.2.482 p. 8.- De . . " doA 8.2-.8-5 p. 8.- Invention . . . =uotationA 888.82. 8843 p. 8.. Dill. - . sayIA n.io.5.P p. 8.. %is . . . 'indA 88-80.5.5 p. 8.. *here . . dearthA ni-i".. 82"82 pp. 8..-3 Dere . . " manA iii"a.P-i2i0 p. 8.3 De . . . usA 888.82.883p. 8.3 (ou . - . .stu##A in.2.4o0 p. 8.3 I... melonsA 888.87.82-8 p. 8.3 I... againA 888.87.82-2 p. 8.3 ;y . . . mealsA 888.87.82-0 p. 8.3 In ... #ingersA 888.87.82-p. 8.3 I... courseA 888.87.8270 Consolation #or a ro!en %eart Vuotations ta!en ii-omA Parerga and ParalipomenaG volumes i and n" Arthur chopenhauer" translated by :. 9.Payne" +)?P. 8432 Babbreviated as Pi andP2C *he Dorld as Dill anii $epresentation" 2-0 &otes volumes i and n" Arthur chopenhauer" translated i?v :- P.6.

PGiyne" 1over Publications" G4.. [ibbreviated as Di and Qv 2." #ollo'ed v page numberC A?- .?.uscript $emains B5 volumesC" Arthur . .?hopenhauer" edited by A. %ubscher" ??.?erg" 8400 Babbreviated as ;$C ,P?Pammelte Brie#e" Arthur chopenhauer" edited by A. %ubscher" Bonn" 8430 Babbreviated as ,BC ,espradi#" Arthur chopenhauer" edited by A. %ubscher" tuttgart" 8438 BabbreviarPd as ,C chopenhauer und die 'ilden@ahre der Philosophic" $udiger a#rans!i" $o'ohit" 8440 p. 838 De . . nothingnessA P2.<n.*-. p. 838 %uman . . . errorA P2.<@.203 p. 838 It... happensA P2.<n.i-p. 838 :ven. . . despairA ;$5.2.I2I p. 832 In ... handA ;$5.2.7. p. 832 I... nationA a#rans!i" p. 35 p. 837 *hese . - " humansA a#rans!i" p. 30 p. 837 pondering . . miseryG a#rans!i" p. 50 p. 835 li#e . . . e##ortA ,"ip. 835 serene . - - everJA a#rans!i. p. 2.3 p. 835 (oung . . - manA ,B.2.3 p. 83- ometimes" . . sel#-deceptionA ;$i.-43 p. 83- A ... monologuesIA ;$7.I.-0 p. 83- De . . . 'eatherA ;$i..20

p. 83-J. . . meA C-274 p. 83- +nly " . - se<A P2.<<vn.7.y p. 83. :ven? . . . su##eringA ;$7.I.3. p. 83. I#. . . meA ;$7.I.2. p. 83. KILts . . . bedlamiteA Pi.7.i55 p. 83. *hat. . . PopeA ;$7.7.82 p. 83. *o ... otherA ;$5.3.-0 p" 83. +#... une?A ;$5.5.r7i p 83. any . . . li!eA ,B.07 p8 . 83.-3 a ... societyA ,B.ro. p ..-3 I#. . . heartA ;$7.r.i74 9 --3 %o' . - " hare-huntA ;$s.5.2. p. 833 A#ter . . . misanthropyA Pi.vi.502 p. 8338... meA ,.-0 p. 833 )i Ie ... illusionA P2.<i.i5. p. 833 ci . " . approach. .?il.riins!i" p. 584 p. 833 *he . . . heartA ;$5.3.2pp. 833-0 *he - - - dogsA P2.<n.i-7 p. 830 comically . . . gru##G ,.00 p. 830 common bipedA a#rans!i" p. 522 p. 834 I... onA D2.70 p. 834 the . . . peopleA Di.7-. p. 834 *'o . - . mannerA a#rans!i" p. 523 p. 834 I#... againA ;$7-2.40 pp. 834-0o %um.ir . . . dealA D2.257 p. 800 &ot. . . #urAAE.A D" pre#ace" r055 pp. 800-08 +ur - . ho'A Pi.240 p. 808 the . . . #ain A a#rans!i" p. 80 p. 808 Dould . . . mindsIA ;$7.%.p. 808 suited . . . longA P2..i5 2.

pp. 808-2 he - - - marriedA ,.22p. 802 I... shudderA ;$5.3.*02 p. 802 human . . . errorA P>-EA 203 p. 80- De . . " materialA D2.-G2 p. 80- )ove . . . happinessA P[.??.P77 p. 80. Dhy ... itA D2.-75 p. 80. Dhat - - - comeA D2"-i5 p. 803 K*he . . . everythingA E[[?2.280 p. 803 KIt@ . . . DillA D2.204 p. 840 *he . . . individualA D2.-7. p. 840 *here . . . t'oA D>.-54 p. 848 :veryone . . . producedA D2.-5. p. 848 *he . . . otherA D2.-5. p. 848 *hat. . . #ortuneA D2.--0 p. 842 I ove ... interestA D2.--p. 842 i/?is.. . heardA P2.<iv.i.. p. 847 J- - . badlyA D2.--0 p. 847 *he . . . presentA D2.--3 p. 84- Dhat. . . childrenA D>.-5p. 84- bet'een .. . itsel#A D2.-7. p. 84. *o ... itA D2.7-5 pp. 84.-3 Contemplate ... e<ertionsA D2.7-7

p. 840 *here ... disappointmentA D2..75 p. 840 Dhat. . . themA Pi.vi.50o p. 200 *he . . . li#eA D2.523 p. 200 ?)otte . . . youJ?A *he orro's o# (oung Derther" ,oethe" translated by ;ichael %ulse" Penguin" 8404" p. 88p. 200 *he . . . thousandsA Pi.<is.2o0 p. 202 In ... su##ererA Di.2o. 2-8&otes Consolation #or 1i##iculties Vuotations ta!en #romA 1aybrea!" Priedrich &iet>sche" rG Pnslated by $.6. %ollingdale" CUP" iy43 Babbreviated as 1C :cce %omo" 9riedrich &iet>sche" translated by $.6. %ollingdale" Penguin" 8434 # abbreviated as :%C Beyond ,ood and :vil" 9riednch &iet>sche" translated by $. 6. %ollingdale" Penguin" 8437 Babbreviated as V,:?i %uman" All *oo %uman" 9ricdrich &iet>sche" translated by M.. L. %ollingdale" CUP" 844. Babbreviated as %A%C Danderer and %is hado'" 9riednch &iet>sche" translated by $- 6. %ollingdale and collected in %A% BIbid.C" CUP" 844. Babbreviated as D C Untimely ;editatii.ini" Priedrich &iet>sche" translated by $. 6. %ollingd.i!-" CUP" 8443 Babbreviated as U;C *2iiA? Anti-Chrisi" 9riedrich &iet>sche"

Gsanslatedby $.6. %ollingdale and i.-iillecied in *'ilight o# the Idols and the Anti-Christ" Penguin" 8440 Babbreviated "". ACC *he Dill to Po'er" 9riedrich &iec>sche" translated by Dalter Maurmann _ $.6. %ollingdale" Sintage" 84.0 Babbreviated asDPC *he ,ay cience" 9riedrich &iet>sche" translated by Dalter Maurmann" Sintage" 8435 Babbreviated as , C *'ilight o# the Idols" 9riedrich &iet>sche" translated by 1uncan )arge" +UP" 8440 Babbreviated as *IC +n the ,enealogy o# ;orality" 9riedrich &iet>sche" translated by Carol 1iethe" CUP" 844. Babbreviated as ,;C dmtliche Brie#eA Mritische tudienausgabe" 9riedrich &iet>sche" 0 volumes" 1*S and de ,ruyter" 843--05 Babbreviated as )etter to2#rom #ollo'ed by day2month2yearC p. 20- cabbage-headsA :%. 7.p. 20- It... beingA :%" 85.8 p. 20-8. . . holyA :%. 85.8 p. 20- )et... 2000A )etter to ;al'ida von ;eysenbug" 252424. p. 20- It... bootsA :%" 7-8 p. 20- (ou ... beenJA B,:. 22p. 20. *o ... van=uishedA DP. 480 p. 20. the ... givenA :%. 9ore'ord" 5 p. 20. In ... treatedA 1. 708 p. 203 I... resignationA #rom $iic!blic! au# meme >'ei iidp>iger #ahre" III.I77" Der!e" Marl chlechta :dition p" 203 *he . " . pleasureA chopenhauer" ??`2.8-0 p 203 KDe " - . mentalA chopenhauer"

8- i.v.a.i pi 203-0 'e " . . abstinenceA )etter to his mothers.rJ sister" -2882.p. 204 I... LB.[EA )etter #rom ;al'ida von ;eysenb ." 2028023. p. 204 *he . . boringA *I. <.2 p. 204 *hese . . . hithertoA :%. 2.80 p. 280 Dould ... sideA )etter to Cosima Dagner" 8428223. p. 280 in ... roomG chopenhauer" Pl.v.a.i p. 280 hidden ... deerA , . 207 p. 280 that. . . gooseA )oner to ;al'ida von ;eysenbug" early ;ay 8005 p. 288 $eally .. . ;ontaigneA )etter to his mother" 722820p. 288 gende . . - eggsA 1. --7 p. 287 magni#icentA *I.i<.54 p. 287 the ... reverenceA *I. i<.-i pp. 287-85 %e ... 'illA *I. i<.54 p. 285 *he . .. pro#oundA tendhal" Soyages en 9rance" Pleiade" p. 7.p. 285 *he . . . copulationA ;ontaigne" :ssays" 888.-.4.0 p. 285 the ... #rightenedA rendhal" +euvres Intimes" Solume I" Pleiade" p. 507 p. 285 Art. . . li#eA *I. i<.25 pp. 285-8- Dhat. . .@oyA , . 82 p. 28- :<amine . . . possibleA , . 84 p. 283 *he . - " 'orldA %A%. 8.8.7 Bmy italicsC 2-2 &otes

pp. 283-80 %e ... mountainsA :%. 9ore'ord" 7 p. 280 De . . . senseA ,;-88.25 p" 280 In ... tomorro'A %A%. 88.7-0 p- 280 *o . . . comps?) hrnsibleJA U;. 888.p. 280 I... 'iss?A I-i".?iJer to his mother" 8423230 p. 280 I... o'nA 8"8"?u?t-* to Paul Mee" end o# 6uly 8034 p. 280 *his . . - mysel#A )etter to Peier ,ast" 8520208 p. 284 I... groundA )etter to V-n?- von ,ersdor##" 202.207 p. 284 %o' . . . boo!sIA D . 725 p. 227 +nly... valueA *I-8.75 p. 227 Dhen . . - humanityA %A%. 8.25. p. 225 De . . " li#eA ;ontaigne" :ssays" 888.87.8273 p- 225 I#... manureA %A%. 88.772 p. 22. 1on?t. . . 'holeA %A%. 8.8.7 p. 223 (ou . . . srrainA )em. r to his mother" 2823234 p. 223 +ne . . . n?ellisA 1- P.0 p. 220 the . . . sur. *I. 888.5 p. 220 good . . . thingsA B,:. 2 p" 220 )ove . . . togetherA DP. 7-8 p. 220 *he. . .n#eA$,:.27 p. 224 *he . . . cultureA DP. 802pp. 224-70 &othing " - - annihilationA %A%. 88"220 p" 270 All. . . hurtin.-?A *I. S.* p. 278 1ear . . . a#teG -i-.ooiiA )etter to his mother" 8.252.7

pp. 278-2 I ... materialismA )etter to Carl von ,ersdor##" 2-252.p. 272 Alcoholic . . . liveA :%. 2"8 p. 272 %o' . . . intelligenceJA *I. vni.2 p. 272 Perhaps . . . :uropeA , . 888.875 p. 272 I... su##icesA :%. 2.8 pp. 272--7 II?- . . togetherA , . 770 p. 277 KA lotions . . . pleasureA Utilitarianism" 6. . ;ill" Chapter 2" paragraph 2" Penguin" 8445 p. 277 :uropean . . . :nglandA $,:. 2-7 p. 277 ;an . . . thatA *I. 8"4 p. 277 All... derisionA B,:. 22p. 275 *he . . . Sesuvius?A , . 207 p. 27- *o ... absurdityA :%. 2.8 p. 27. %e . . . pastor . - " guideA 888.47. Der!e" Marl chlechta :dition p. 27.8... depravityA AC. .2 p. 27. +ne . . . governorA AC. 5. p. 27. It. - .todayA AC. 70 p. 273 *he . . . ChristianityA *I. vni..> p. 270 not- . . . -revenueA ,;. 8.85 p. 270 a ... accomplishmentA ,;. 8.87 p. 270 the ... com#ortablenessA , . 770 p. 274 the . - . anti=uitvA D . 3 p. 274 one . . . philosophi>ingA D . 24p. 274 It... li!e-mindedA )etter lo Paul 1eussen" 322230 pp. 274-50 1o . . . thin!ingIA )etter to ;athilde *rempedach" 8825 ?3. p. 250 %e . .. operaA 1iary" Cosima Dagner" 525235 p" 250 *he .. . timeA )etter #rom %ans von Bulo'" 2523232 p" 250 (ou ... isA )etter #rom %anP " on Billo'" 2523232 p. 250 9or . . . 'omanJA )etter #rom

$ichard Dagner" 2.282. 35 p. 250 Ariadne . . . youA Postcard to Cosima Dagner" I 28 2 P4 p. 250 *han!s . " " ?me?A I "ener to 9ran> +verbec!" )ite ;arch or early April iP . p. 250 I... learnJG )etter to )ou alome" 223202 p. 258 ;y. . . meA )etter to 9ran> +verbec!" 2-282202 p. 2588... themA )etter to 9ran> +verbec!"I27207 p" 258 scraped . . . sheepA I eiter to his mother" 5280205 p. 252 As ... timeA )etter 8.0 ;al'ida von ;eysenbug" 8528200 p. 252 Constant. . . musicJA )etter to 1octor +tto :iser" I2i20o p. 257 #or. . . 'omanA %A%. 8.705 p. 257 :arly. . . viciousJA :%. 2.0 p. 257 no . . . deniesA *I. i<.54 pp. 257-5 *he . . . complaintA 1. -2 Bmy italicsC p. 255 *o . . . 'eatherA :%. 85.5 2-7Ac!no'ledgements I am much indebted to the #ollo'ing authorities #or their comments on chapters o# this boo!A 1r $obin Dater#ield B#or ocratesC" Pro#essor 1avid edley B#or :pirurusC" Pro#essor ;artin 9erguson mith B#or :picurusC" Pro#essor C. 1. &. Costa B#or enecaC" ihe $everend Pro#essor ;ichael creech B#or ;onraigneC" $eg %ollingdale B#or chopenhauerC and 1r 1uncan )arge B#or &iet>scheC" I cim also gready indebted to the #allo'ing #or their commentsA 6ohn Armstrong" %arriet Braun" ;ichele %utchison" &oga Ari!ha and ;iriam ,ross. I 'ould li!e to than!A imon Prosser" )esley ha'" %elen Praser. ;ichael )ynton" 6uliet Annan" ,rainne Melly" Anna Mobryn" Caroline 1a'nay" Annabel %ardman" ;iriam Ber!eley" Chloe Chancellor" )isabel ;c1onald" Mim Ditherspoon and 1an 9ran!.

2-Copyright Ac!no'ledgements ,rate#ul ac!no'ledgement is made to die #ollo'ing publishers #or permission to reproduce e<tracts rromprevi.ouPv publisb.-?6 materialA Cambridge University Pre.-i . %uman All *oo %uman" 9riedrich &iet>sche" trans. $. 6. %ollingdale" 844.G and +n the ,enealogy o# ;orality" 9riedrich &iet>sche" trans. Carol 1iethe" 844.G 1over PublicationsA Dorld as Dill and $epresentation" Arthur chopenhauer" trans. 1uncan )arge" 8400G +<#ord University PressA e<tracts reprinted #rom *'ilight o# the Idols" 9riedrich &iet>sche" trans. 1uncan )arge B+<#ord Dorld?s Classics" 8440C" by permission o# +<#ord University PressG e<tracts reprinted #rom Parerga and Paralipomena" Arthur chopenhauer" Bvolumes I and II" trans. :. 9. Payne" 8435C by permission o# +<#ord University PressG Penguin Boo!sA :arly ocratic 1ialogues" Plato" trans. lain )ane" 8403G *he )ast 1ays o# ocrates" Plato" trans. %ugh *redennic!" 8403G Protagoras and ;eno" Plato" trans.D. M. C. ,uthrie" 8403G 1ialogues and )etters" eneca" trans. C. 1. &. Costa" 8443G )etters #rom a toic" eneca" trans- $obin Campbell" 84.4G *he Complete :ssays" ;ichel de ;ontaigne" trans. ;. A. creech" 8448G Beyond ,ood and :vil" 9riedrich &iet>sche" trans. $. 6. %ollingdale" 844.G and :cce %omo" 9riedrich &iet>sche" trans. $. 6. %ollingdale" 8434G $andom %ouse" Inc.A e<tracts #rom *he Dill to Po'er by 9riedrich &iet>sche" trans. Dalter Mauri-nan and $" 6. %ollingdale. Copyright 84.3 by Dalter Mau#man. :<tracts #rom *he ,ay cience by 9riedrich &iet>sche" trans. Dalter Mau#man. Copyright 8435 by $andom %ouse" me. $eprinted by permission o# $andom %ouse" Inc. 2-. Picture Ac!no'ledgements *he phoiographs sri the boo! are used by permission and courtesy o# the #ollo'ingA Aarhus MunstmuseumA 805G *he Advertising ArchivesA ..* B1C Comii-vAA *I$G A M, )ondonA B;usee du )ouvre" Paris2:rich )essingC 30$" 83788 rational i.)-search and ;emorial Centre #or Classical ,erman )iterature" DeimarC >o.?A" 200 B&e?i? - Pina!othe!" ;unichC HIIB)" HV* BUniversity )ibrary" 6enaC 2877G AlbertiiiiG. SiennaA ?.2.8G Archivi Alinari" 9lorenceA 275BG American chool o# Classical tudies at AthensA Agora :<cavationsA 7.G *he Ancient Art _ Architecture Collection2b $onald heridanA 45G *he Ait ArchiveG 3- BdetailC 882"82.)" I5IB$G Associated PressA 0.$G ,. Bell and on-i )td" #rom A %istory o# 9rench Architecture by ir $eginald Mlom#ield B#rom the 9rench Cours d ?Architecture" 8428" 6. 9. Blondel _ 1avilerCA i77B" 8528G Ber!ley. ;iriamA 5G Bibliothe=ue &ationale" ParisA -0G Bildarchiv Preussicher Multurbesit>" BerlinA B iaatliche ;useen >u Berlin Preussicher Mu!urbesit>. Mup#erstich!abinetCA -;i" B taat%che ;useen >u Berlin - Preussicher

Multurbesit>. Anti!ensammlungCA 34" i2*" 2888.G *he Anthony Bla!e Photo )ibrary BCharlie tebbingsCA .i) B P9* AssociatesCA .i$G Bridgeman Art )ibraryA Bdetail" i&m-<. painCA 5.*$ B,alleria degli U##i>i" 9lorenceCA 0oB BBritish )ibraryCA 05 B;usee Conde. ChantillyCA 820 B)ouvre" Paris2Peter DilliCA I56*) B,avin ,raham ,allery" )ondonCA I.P*$" 8-3 BCorp)) Christi College" +<#ordCA i5#B) Bprivate collectionCA 224G British Ardiitectural )ibrary" $.IBA" )ondonA 538-G By permission o# the British )ibraryA 873 BdetailC 8-3" i.0BG *he Briush ;useumA 85" 2i" 03" 22-)G Chloe ChancellorA 70G6ean-)oup Charmer. ParisA 338.G 9rom Cheminees a la modeme" Paris" 8..8A i52BG C+$ I A 33$" 80."I2.$" i.0*G 1ass.ni! 9alcon 6et Corp" &6" U AA 5.*)G de Botton" AlainA 78 X:picurean )i#eCA -28" .0" 32-r" 02. 4." 44" 805" io0" 88-" li."884"807"803"847"84-" 284" 220-28" 222" 227" 275*" 27-" 255G 9rom :ncyclopedic" ou 1ictiom're" raisonne des sciences" des arts et des metiers" ed. 1enis 1iderot _ 6ean )e $ond d?Alembert" 83-8A -7G ;ary :vans Picture )ibraryA 8-" 2." 840" 2I2B$G 9lammarion" Paris" #rom i.es. Arts 1ecorati#s - )es ;eubles 88 du style $egence an style )ouis <vi by ,uillaumc 6anneau" 8424G 54)G Demer 9orman" ArchiveA i3BG *he 9otomas Inde<" 8-5" 220G *he ,arden Picture )ibraryA 3iBG ,ermanisches &ationalmuseum" &umberg" i77ErG *he6. PauL ,etty ;useum" )os Angeles" Cali#orniaA -8G ,iraudon. ParisA --" 22-$G *he $onald ,ranr ArchiveA 50G ,- %+CMA 804G $obert %arding Picture )ibraryA 4-G ;ichael %ol#ordA IH:G *he Image Ban!21avid D. %amiltonA I+*$G Images Colour )ibraryA 388EG 9rom *he Insect DorldG #rom the 9rench o# )ouis 9iguier?s )es Insects" 80.0A 8433G lan Bavington 6ones BphotographyCA 5-G Collection Mharbine-*apabor" ParisA I43B$G Ming#isher. Illustrations #rom ee Inside an Ancient ,ree! *o'n" published by Ming#isher" $eproduced 'ith permit sion. Copyright ,rise'ood _ 1empsey )td" 8434" 840.. All rights reservedA I+B" n" 77. -5G 9rom Brevissima $eladon de la 1estmccion de las Indias" Bmrolomeo )as Casas" 8--2 i74" 850G )ucca tate ArchivesA 5.0G ;c1onald" )isabelA 32?"" 850" i0y" i43B)G Patric! ;c1onald2:picurean $estaurant2:picurean )i#eA -2-G ;etropolitan ;useum o# Art 2-3 Picture Ac!no'ledgements BCatherine )orillard Dol#e Collection" Dol#e 9und 8478CA 7 BdetailC 70 B%arris Brisbane 1ic! 9und 8470CA 53BG ;oncabella Serlag" t ;orit>A 258G 9rom ;ontaiPeA A Biography by 1onald ;. 9rame" published by %amish %amilton" 84.-G 883G Board o# *rustees" &ational ,allery o# An" Dashington" Andre' D. ;ellon CollectionA 22.$G *he *rustees o# the &ational ;useum o# cotland 2000A i2*G Pboto1isc Burope )td2 teve ;asonA .5G 9rom PompeianaA *he *opography" :di#ices and +rnaments o# Pompeii by ir Dilliam ,ell" 807-A 07" 0-G Vuadrant Picture )ibraryA .2" 00G $oger-Siollet" ParisA 83G cala" 9lorenceA yi" 50" 54$" --" ipo" 208G chopenhauer ArchivA 832" 8378?" 835" 830-02G ociete Internationale des Amis de ;ontaigne" ParisA 28.G rau6s- Athens2c+$BisA 84G ti#tung Deimarer Mlassi!2,oethe- chiller Archiv" DeimarA 278" 27.G 'issair Photo )ibrary" HurichA 0.)G *he *elegraph Colour )ibraryA 4" I+*)G *opham PicturepointA 272G University

o# outhampton" Brian par!es and )inda %allA 22" 52G Sin ;ag Archiv )tdA ..BG AgencyDC$ " Photographer - ,len ,arner. Courtesy o# )and $over UMA .-G Dellcome *rust ;edical Photographic )ibraryA 270 2-0 Inde< ab@ectness o# spirit" 802"807 abnormality" ideas about" 878"857-5 see also normality" ideas about Adam" $obert" 5Adam brothers" 5advertising" .3-0".4-30 see aUo lu<urious images Aeschines" 70 Agrippina" 3." 34 alcohol2drin!ing" 278-7" 27-" 273 Aleria" 44 Alps" 280-27 Ana<agoras" 85Ana<imander" 85Andreas- alome" )ou" 250-8.258 anger" 02-animals" 884-20"833-0"84. animate ob@ects" #eelings o# being moc!ed by"800"802-Antisdienes" 70 an<iety" 4.-4 Anytus" 23" 73" 58 Apollodorus" 70"74"85appearance" 20. Archelaus BphilosopherC" 85 Archelaus" Ming o#;acedon" 72 Aristophanes" 8.-83" 2-" 7Aristotle" 88-"8-8"8-2.C i-7W 8--" 8.0" 8.2-7" 8.7"*.."203 art" 844-208" 285" 277-5 see also names o#

arnsrs Assyrians" 800 Athens" 7" 5" u" 85"8-"8--8." i3" 28"23"20" 78" 72" 7-i 7."70" 58" -8" -." -0" .3" 3." ll." 85athletes" 77-5 Attenburg" 278 attraction" theory o#" 848 Augsburg" 878" i75" i7-i i5Augustus" :mperor" 05 Austria" 878 A>tecs"874 Babylon" 800 Baden" 878"872" *75 Bahamas" 87balance" 848 Basle" 883" i7*" 872 University" 200" 2i0" 223 beauty" di##erenr conceptions o#" 87. Bellini" ,ioviinni" 50-4" 54" 32 Belron %ouse" )incolnshire" 53 Ben>oni" ,irulamo" 87Berlin" 83." i33 Beyle" %enri see tendhal B%enri BeyleC Biggin %ill" 5. Blondel" 6ean-9rancois" 53 blo'ing one?s nose" 857 bodies" 40-4"822-7"82--3"870"80- see also health Bologna" 878 Bonn University" 808" 278" 278 boo!s" 850"8-3-.5-8.--. Bordeau<" 88-" ri3"82.0"85."8-8" 2i2 boredom" 8-0 Bornegre" 804 Brahmanism" 834

Brancacci chapel" 9lorence" 208 Bra>il. 87. see also *upi Indians Breslau University" 808 Britannicus" 3. bro!en heart" como)u6on #or" 8.4-202 Buchanan" ,eorgr" 878 Buddha" 832"834 Bulo'" %ans von. 250 Burc!hardc" 6acob" 204 2-4Inde< Caesar" 6ulius" 883"8-2" l.. Caligula" :mperor" 30"34" 04" 45 Campania" 04 Cape M-olias" 28 Capri" 204 Castillon-la-Batailie" 823 Catherine de? ;edici" 82. Catullus" 88Cebes" 70 Cham#ort" &icolas" 83Charles i<" Ming" 820 Chamiides" 7Chelsea" 5Cheruer" Andre" . children2reproduction" 80.. 803"804-40" i4i-2"845"i4Christianity" 27-" 27."273-0

Chrysippus" 803" io0 Cicero" 88-" n0"884" i2"i" 8.8" 8.-" i.."8.0 Citta di Castello" 225 Claudius" :mperor" 45 clever people" ideas about" 8-0-.0 College de ,uyenne" Bordeau<" 8-8"8-2" i-7 Cologne" 252 Columbus" Christopher" 87-"870" 874 com#ortableness" religion o#" 277" -iP commentaries" 8.8"8.7"8.-" *.. commercialism in relation to needs" .--3 common-sense ideas =uestioned by ocrates" 85-8-" 8B8-20 as societal conventions" 4-87 and ocratic method o# thin!ing" 27-. see oho ma@ority opinions2belie#s conventions" societal" 4-87 Corsica" 34" 45" 44 Cotan" anche>" 5. Cotgrave" $andle" 82. courage" 80-84" 25--" y. Court o# the %eliasts" Athens" 23"7Crinitus" Petrus" 88Critias" 7-

criticism" 70"7.Q" 8.7 Criro"."75"70.74"50 Crirobulus" 70 Croesus"808 Ctesippus" 70 cultural inade=uacy" 878-54 customs" evaluating" 852-7 Cu>co"85Cyrus" Ming o# Persia" loo-ioi"802 1aedalus" 21an>ig" 838 1avid" 6ac=ues-)ouis" 7"7" ."70"70"3-"3-" 3."33"ii2 death"-4" 04-40"45 1emocritus" 851escartes" $ene" 800 1euteronomy" 47" 45 dictatorship" 72" 71iderot" 1enis" -"70-4 di##iculties" consolation #or" 207-55 1iodorus" 58 1iogenes Bo#+inoandaC" .3 1iogenes BphilosopherC" 851iogenes )aertius" 58"-4" n. 1ionysiac #estivals" 224-70 1ionysus" theatre o#" Athens" 8. 1iotimus the toic" -8" -7 disaster" 30" 0.-4 distress" 208 dog-on-leash metaphor" 803-0" lop dogs" 833-0 1omitius" no 1resden"83dress" 80 drin!ing2alcohol" 278-7" 27-" 273 1u#resnoy" Charles-Alphonse" 5. -

:agle %ouse chool" Dimbledon" 832"837 earth=ua!es" 04" 48" iio-n eating" process o#" 827 :cclesiastes" n0 economics" 30 education" 8-0-. :gypt" -8" i-5 :iser" +tto" 250 :lephant ;an" *he" 50 :mpedocles" 85:ngadine region" 280" 220" 222" 257 :ngland" 832" 277 :picurean" *he BrestaurantC" -2" -2 epicurean )i#e Bmaga>ineC" -2" -P" -7" .0 2..0 Inde< :picurus" -0-32" 43" n.. 870" 85-"85." l.o" 274 illustration" -:pigenes" 70 :rasmus" 1esideriu.P" 88erection" di##iculties 'ilh" 825-:uclides.70 :uripides" 58 hicts" !no'ledge o#. 8.0-8 icilse statements" 25-9amborough" 5.

#arting" 822-7 9e< Salley" 222" 222-7" 227 9icino" ;arsilio" 8.8. #ires" open" 877. 875. 87-"852 9lorence" 5"878. 83-" 83." 208" 22-"22."272 9lorida" gul# o#" 87#ood" -0"-."-0" .i- 2 8-oitune" 33" 03" 03. 00" 04" 40" V*" 42" 45" 45" 4-W 40"44 I-?o<" Charles 6ames" 28. ??ranee" 88-"8-8"8-7"837 see also 9rench" theG names o# places in 9rance 9ran!#urt am ;ain" 833" i0o" 8P0"808 #reedom" -0" .. 9rench" the" 872"877" 875" 852" 857 #riendliness to onesel#" 307-5 #riendship" -.-0" .."85.- 274 #rustration" consolation t. " 37-882 #ul#ilment" 20-" 203" 280" a .A." 227" 225"270" P73" 257 individuals demonstrating" 288-85 ,aliani" Abbe" 288" 282" 282" 252 ,alleria 8-8 *Accademia" Senice" 50" 32 ,alleria I ?anna" 9lorence" 5 ,ard" $iv - ?" 803 see also 9ont du Card ,arden" ihe" Athens" -4" .3 gardening" 223-0 ,ascony" 857"85-"8.5 Cast" Peter" 280 ,aul" -8" 00 ,eneva" 274 ,enoa" 280 ,ermany" 878"872-7" i75"85P8 AE5i 252 see

also names o# places in ,ermany ,ersdor##" Carl von" 284 ,iacondo" 9rancesco del" 22,iordano" )uca" 30 gods" ,ree!" 88 ,oethe" 6ohann Dol#gang von" 835--"84-" 844-200" 204" 288" 282" 282-85" 252 ,ottingen University. 835 ,oulart" imon" 855 Couvea" Andre de" 8-8 Creat Pyramid" 8-5 ,reece" ancient" 80-87"88-" 224-70 ,revenich" 50 grie#" 04-40 ,rouchy" &icolas de" 8-8 ,uanahani Indians" 87,uerente" ,uillaume" 8-8 ,uevara" Antonio de" 88,yndes" $iver" 808 happiness ac=uisition lists" 5- -G-" P-4"38-2 and :picureans" -8" -7" --" -.-.5" 30 &iet>sche?s vie's on" 277

chopenhauer?s vie's on" 843-0 and Utilitarianism" 277 health" -7-5 heating systems" 872--"852 %ecato"807 %egel" ,eorg Dilhelm 9riedrich" 83. %enri in" Ming" 82. %eraclitus" 85-"8.7 %ermarchus" -. %ermogenes" 70 %erodotus" 800" 204 %ippolytus" Bishop" 803 %itler" Adol#" 288 %0egh-,uldberg" ;rs" 807"805 %olland Par!" 5horticulture" 223-0 %uber" 9rancois" 84. idle opinions" .Idomeneus" -. %e de la Cite" 50 impotence" 827-inade=uacy" consolation #or" 887-.0 2.lInde< inanimate ob@ects" #eelings o# being

moc!ed by" 800-808 Incas" 874 Indian tribes" 87-"87.-0"874-50 in@ustice" sense o#" 47-Innsbruc!" 878 insects" 843 intellectual inade=uacy" 8-0-.0 intellectual 'or!" bene#its o#" 880 intuition" 2-" 2. Ischia" 204 Isocrates" 58 Italy" -8" 03"88-"875" i.2"83-"83." 200" 287 see also names o# places in Italy 6ena University" 808 6oubert" )aurent" 870 @oy" 286udaea"-8 6ulia )ivilla" 45 @ustice2in@ustice" 47-Mensington" 5Men'ood %ouse" 5-" 5Mirby" Dilliam" 84. !no'ledge" 2-"8-7 Mab!e" Christen" 807"805 )a Boetie" #oienne de" 85.-0 )a Bruyere.6ean de" 204 )a $oche#oucauld" 9rancois" due de" 204 )a Silla" 850 )aches" 83" i0 )ambin" 1enys" 88. )ampsacus" -8 )as Casas" Bartolomeo" 874"850

)avallee-Poussin" :tienne de" learning" 8-7 )ebels!i" ,eorge" 855 )eip>ig University" 203" 278 )eo A#ricanus" 855 )eonardo da Sinci" 22)eonteus" -. )ery"6ean de" 87-"87."873"870 )es ,auchers" 884 )eu" *homas de" 820 )eucippus" 85)evet>o'" Ulri!e von" 285 )iedet" )oyset" 33 li#e" ideas #rom" 8..-0 lightning" no )indau" 872 logic" 52" i5i" 8-2 )ondon" 5-" ii." 832 )ong#ello'" %enry" 274 )onginus" 88)ope> dc ,omara 9rancisco" 87)ouis <vr" Ming" ." 50 love" 80-" K0." 803-0" l04"840"842." 845" 843-0"844-200"208" 285 love story" contemporary" 807-40 )ucerne" 250 )ucilius" 4.-3"807 )ucretius" --i .0-4" 3Ni E-W E.W 8.8

)ugano" 272 )ugdunum" 30" 00- 4 )uri" 44 )usignano" :rienne B6ac=uesC de" 855 lu<urious images" .--3" .0 )ycon" 23" 58 )ysippus" 58" 52 ma@ority opinions2belie#s" 20-22"72-7 see also common-sense ideas ;antinea" battle o# B580 :CC" 83 ;arcia" 04-40" 47" ii2 ;ardonius" 80 ;ariana" 44 ;arienbad" 285 marriage" 870" 83."842" iy7" 84-" 250 ;asaccio" 208" 20i ;attecoulon" Bertrand de" 878 ;a<imilian" :mperor" 827 ;editerranean" 204" 2i0 ;edon" Caroline" 83. ;eletus" 23" 58 ;elite district" Athens" [-ib" -4 ;endo>a" ,oncale> de" 855 ;ene<enus" 70 ;eno" 84-20" 2i ;enoeceus" -0 ;essalina" :mpress" 34" 45 ;etilius" 04" 47" 45" ii2 ;etrodorus" -8"-."-4 2.2 Inde< ;etropolitan ;useum o# Art" &e' (or!" 7

)Q5e<ico" 87."85-" 2i0 vieyer" )oren>" 832 ivieysenbug" ;al'ida von" 200"204"224" 252 ivlichelangelo Buonarroti" 22iPiggrode" 6ac=ues de" 874 ;ilan. 83. ;ilcrus" 8-5"8-militarism" 82 ;ill" 6ohn tuart" 277 ;inho" the" 827 moc!eryA #eelings o# being moc!ed" *+ 0-80moles" 84. money consolation #or not having enough" 57-32 in relation ri.G? anger" 07-5 in relation to happiness" -4" .o-2 in relation to virtue" 84-20" 25-see also 'ealth ;ontaigne" 9rancois" de B'i#e o#;ichel de ;ontaigneA" 88. ;ontaigne" )eonor de Bdaughter o#;ichel de ;ontaigneC" n."823 ;ontaigne" ;ichel de" 88--.0"834-00"80-" 204" 288" 282" 285" 28--8." 225" 257 illustrations" 820" 282 mortality" -4 see also death mountains" 283-27 ;uenster" ebastien" 855 ;usaeus"85-

;ycale" 7&aples"83Bay o#" 200"2o0"204 &apoleon Bonaparte" 200"287" 285" 2i. &ational ocialism" 280 nature" no-n &aumburg" 203" 2o0" 223 &ausiphanes" -0 necessities" acceptance o#" 804" m needs" .0" .--3 negative emotions" 223-0 &ero" :mperor" 3--."30" 34"804-80" in neuirali>altion" theory o#" 848 &e' *estament" 27." 273 &e' (or!" 7 &ey" :li>abeth" 808-2" i02 &ice" 280 &icias" 83. ? P &iet>schu" Carl)ud'ig B#ather o# 9riedrich &iet>scheC" 27--." 27. &iet>sche" :lisabeth Bsister o# 9riedrich &iet>scheC" 280" 2ii" 258" 252 &iet>sche" 9ran>is!a Bmother o# 9riedrich &iet>scheC" 200" 223"278" 27-" 258" 252 &iet>sche" 9riedrich" 20--55 illustrations" 20." 278" 258 &ime " 80."803"837 noise" 807--"834 normality" ideas about" 878"872"87-"850-58" 85- see also abnormality" ideas about nose" blo'ing one?s" 857

novels" 'riting" 283 occupation" -5-+ctavia" 3. +ehler" 1avid :rnst" 27+inoanda" .3" .0" .I .4 +sann" 9riedrich" 830 +verbec!" 9raii3" 2T.?.? 258 +vid" 883 Padua" 878 Paestum" 204" 287" 224"224 pain see su##er? iP2pain Pamphilus" -0 Paris" 820" 282 nP also %e de la Cite Parmenides" 85parroting" 8.passions" 224-70 Paulina" 3." 33" in Pausanias" Ming" 80 Pelopponesian Dar" 83"7-"58 penis" 825--"824" .87."8-. persecution" #eelings o#" 800-80Persians" 82" i0"7- see also Cyrus" Ming o# Persia Peru. 87. Perugia" 225 Perugino" Pietro" 225 Peyi-on"Pierre"2.7Inde<

Phaedo"70"74"50 Phaedonda.s" 70 Phaenarete" 8"8 Pisa" 8.2 Piso" Calpurnius" in Piso" ,naeus" governor o# yria" 802 Pin" Dilliam" 28. Pi> Corvaisch" 284. 220" 220-28" 228" 270" 257 Pi> de la ;argna. 284 Pi> )agrev" 284 Platea" batde o# B5G---.? BCC" 80" 2-"7Plato" 5" ."82" 84" 2"" 88-" u."822"85-"8-4" 8.0" l.l" 8.7" 8.5. Q?.-U-." 204 Plautus" 883 pleasure" -0--8G -7" -." 3- 2.77" 275 Pliny" u0 Plutarch" 58 Pny< hill" Athens" 23 Pobles" 27poets" 200 Pollio" Sedius" 05 Polus" 78-2 Polyaenus" -. polygamy" 870"83. Pompeii" 50" 50" 30" 04" 204" 285 9ont du ,ard" 80." io.-3"804"837"285 Portugal" 827"825 see also Portuguese" the Portuguese" the" 870 Postel" ,uillaume" 855 pottery" 28"28-2"22" 27"70"70"78"78"52 poverty" 84"20" 25--"30" 40 praemeditatio" 48 productum" 40" 44

Proverbs" 880 Pyrrho" 820 Pythagoras" 85Vuiberon" 28. =uotations" use o#" 8.8" K.7 $aphael" 225- [6" 272 'or!s" 22-" 22_ reality" 30" 00 ?i" y.. 803" 804 reason" 77" 02" 804- i iy" 828" 85-"80reassurance" 4. $ee" Paul" 280" 250. 258 i)-icction" 845-religion o# com#ortableness" 277" 270 reproduction see children2reproduction $eynolds" ir 6oshua" . $ibera B6usepeC" 3P $icher" Pierre" 870 $oc!en. 27-" 27$ome" 805" i05" 878" 85-" 83ancient" 3-" 3." 30.34" c7" 04" 45" 44" 80.-3" no" ii-"837" 273 $oyal ociety o# Arts" 5-" 5d $ubens" Peter Paul" 33 aint-Vuendn 6-u-=?.ies Philippe 6oseph de" t Sivien" 823 amos" -0

anta ;aria del Carmine" 9lorence" 208 aunier" 50 chanhausen" 878 chnepp" ;argaretha" 834 scholarship" bene#its o#" 880 chopenhauer" Arthur" 838-202" 203" 2o0" 280 illustrations" 838"835"830" i02 chopenhauer" %einrich B#ather o# Arthur chopenhauerC" 838" 832"832 ehupenhauer" 6ohanna Bmorher o# Arthur chopenhauerC" 838" 832" 837"835"834 cipio Aemiliarius" 8.8 cipio A#ricanus" 8.8 eneca" 3--882" 88-"883. iPr" 8.8"8.7"8.5" i34 illustrations" 3-" 33" 30" 34 eneca?s *o'er" Corsica" 44 eville" 874"85se<ual inade=uacy" 822-4 shoc!" 0.-48 icily" 83" 4. iena" 878 ils-;aria" 280"284" 284" >>o" 222" 257 immias" 70 staves" ii sleep" 834-00 ocrates" 7-52" --" 3.-3" n."87-"8-4 illustrations" 7" -"85"34 ocratic method #or thin!ing" 27-. 2.5

Inde< ophocles" u0 ophroniscus" 85 orrento" 200" 204" 224" 252 outh America" 87--58"852" 857 panish" the" 870" i74" 850 partans" 83" i0" 7pence" Dilliam" 84. port" 77-5" 8-7-5 tendhal B%enri BeyleC" 204"2U" 282"285" 2l."272"275" 257 tobeus" 88toicism" 30. 4P- iP3-P" 870 toves" 872--"852 uetonius" 30 su##ering2pain" 845. 208-2" 20--."203-0" 280" 28-" 283" 225" 22." 272E-7a 275 'it>erland" 878" 872"280 yria" -8 governc6.?A o#" ?Ao2 *acitus" 3P E0" i55 *autenburg #orest" 250 *erence" 883"85. *erpsion" 70 *hales" 85-"8-5 *hemisra" -. thin!ing" ocratic method o#" 27-. thought" -0-4".3 *hucydides" 204 *igellinus" +#onius" no *imes" *he" 833" P30 *imocrates" -8 toilet habits" 824

*rampedach" ;athilde" 274" 252-7 travel" value ot" 85--. *rudaine cic la abliere" Charles ;ichel" . true opini?Pi. 2rme statements" 25-?" i-uth" 2-/P *upi Indians" 87.-0 *urin" 250" 252 Ubermensc!en" 280-88 universe" theories o# the" 855-unpopularity" consolation #or" 8-52 Upanishads" 834 Urbino" 225"22-" 22." 272 Utilitarianism" 277 Sandercruse-)a Croi<" 50 Sarro" ;arcus *erentius" 8-2" iAC Aa. i-Sauvenargues" )uc de Clapiers" seigneur de"204 Sau<" Cadet de" 84. Sela>=ue>" 1iego de ilvay" 5. Senice" 50" 32"878" i3-. ?3. Serona. 878 Sesuvius" ;ount" 204. 287" 275" 2.75-Siana do Castelo" 827 Silla +rsetti" 5." 5. Silla $ubinacci" 204 Sillegagnon" &icolas 1urand de" 870 Sirgil" 883 virtue in relation ro money" 84-20" 25--

Soltaire" 9rancois ;arie Arouet de" 282 Dagner" Cosima. 200" 2io" 250 Dagner" $ichard. 200" 274-50 'ealth" 43-0 sec also money Deimar" 835" 282 Deiss" 9lora" 833 'ill-to-li#e" 80--." i03"800"804"840"848" 842"845-Dilliam in" 53 Dinc!elmann" 6ohann" 224 'isdom" 824-70. 8-7"8---." l.I Qvishes in con#lii-i 'ith reality. 30" 0o-0i" 803"804 'omen" 82" iEP" i i 'riting" 850 4. iP0-4"2i.-i3 Fantrpppe" ." 85" 74 Heno" 803" io0