The Death of Marcus Aurelius

The Death of Marcus Aurelius

Sunday, December 3, 2017

Epictetus, The Handbook 51: Day and Night



The phrases, 'it is day' and 'it is night', mean a great deal if taken separately, but have no meaning if combined.

In the same way, to choose the larger portion at a banquet may be worthwhile for your body, but if you want to maintain your social decency it is worthless.

Therefore, when you are at a meal with another, remember not only to consider the value of what is set before you for the body, but also to maintain your self-respect before your host.

—Epictetus, The Handbook, Chapter 36 (tr Matheson)

I cannot have it both ways, and be living a contradiction. I cannot be pursuing the goods of the body at the expense of the goods of the soul.

I recall my father’s disgust when I was in Boy Scouts, and our Troop received a dozen pizzas. The young men would quickly grab a slice from a box, fold it over and take one very large bite, throw the remains back into the box, and grab yet another slice. They would still be chewing the first bite when taking the second. There was much want, and much waste.

His concern, if I understood it rightly, wasn’t just about the external pleasantries of good manners. Rather, I think he saw, and was also trying to teach me, that how we tend to the needs of our bodies reflects our attitudes about the needs of our souls. Gluttony shows itself in the desire to devour too much food and drink, but this intemperance is at root a disorder in our thinking and our choosing.

Crave, acquire, consume, discard, and repeat. There can be no decency of character, no respect for others, where there is only the drive to dominate and possess.

Some people, of course, may have impeccable manners at fancy parties and dinners, even as their decorum is also in contradiction to a sort of social gluttony, the need to be at the center of attention, to have power over others through intrigue and flattery, to seek greater and greater position and influence.

Many years after the infamous Boy Scout Pizza Massacre, I was asked to attend a banquet to celebrate the success of one of our programs. Everyone was dressed in finery, ate and drank daintily using all the right glasses and silverware, and never spoke and chewed at the same time. When they did speak, their words seemed refined and educated.

I would have been wrong, however, to think that these people were living any better. Behind the appearance of class was just a different expression of the sort of gluttony that eats at the soul. It seemed like every comment I heard was directed to curry favor, acquire leverage, or cleverly insult others. I sensed immediately that this was just another instance of what Epictetus had described, because this desire to consume was still just as much in contradiction to social decency. The trappings were different, but the content was much the same.

At first this angered me, but I realized that my resentment would only harm my own sense of decency and respect. I considered just walking out early, but also recognized this as a form of contempt. All that seemed left to me was to try to be selfless, sincere, and friendly in my own words and actions.

This was not easy at all, and I caught myself more than once beginning to roll my eyes, or starting to prepare a shifty and dismissive comment. I thought of Epictetus on conflicting standards, of Socrates on living the same life in public and in private, and of Marcus Aurelius reminding us all that the best response to being wronged is simply to do something right.

I have sadly never been good at all in social situations. I am too shy, awkward, and eccentric to promote my own popularity. But that unpleasant banquet did serve to confirm for myself that I do not need to seek my own position at all. That is still just pursuing another good of the body, when I should work on developing the goods of the soul. The conflicting standards of consumption and character should be like day and night to me. 

Written in 5/2002

Image: Roberto Bompiani, A Roman Feast (c. 1875) 


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