While I was pondering thus in silence,
and using my pen to set down so tearful a complaint, there appeared standing
over my head a woman's form, whose countenance was full of majesty, whose eyes
shone as with fire and in power of insight that surpassed the eyes of men,
whose color was full of life, whose strength was yet intact though she was so
full of years that none would ever think that she was subject to such age as
ours.
One could but doubt her varying
stature, for at one moment she repressed it to the common measure of a man, at
another she seemed to touch with her crown the very heavens. And when she had
raised higher her head, it pierced even the sky and baffled the sight of those
who would look upon it.
Her clothing was wrought of the finest
thread by subtle workmanship brought to an indivisible piece. This had she
woven with her own hands, as I afterwards did learn by her own showing. Their
beauty was somewhat dimmed by the dullness of long neglect, as is seen in the
smoke-grimed masks of our ancestors.
On the border below was enwoven the
symbol Π (Pi), on that above was to be read a Θ (Theta). And between the two
letters there could be marked degrees, by which, as by the rungs of a ladder,
ascent might be made from the lower principle to the higher. Yet the hands of
rough men had torn this garment and snatched such morsels as they could from
there.
In her right hand she carried books, in
her left was a scepter brandished. . . .
— from Book
1, Prose 1
The idea
that philosophy can be a cure for the ills of this life, and that her
appearance can bring relief from our everyday fear and pain, may seem quite odd
to our modern sensibilities. Philosophy would appear to refer either to some
very vague and general approach to any subject, or it is that very specific subject
that academics pursue in their ivory towers. It’s a clever term to insert into
business and marketing proposals, or a career pursued by fancy intellectuals.
Philosophy hardly saves lives, does it?
Yet that
is precisely why Lady Philosophy comes to Boethius now. She may not choose to
save his body from death, but she intends to save his soul from despair. I came
to see in my own life that this was the sort of philosophy I needed, and
perhaps why I have always had trouble making myself understood to those who
used the word differently.
I have
read many wonderful accounts of what Lady Philosophy’s appearance signifies,
and how all the aspects of the description point to different historical and
thematic concepts. I can add only what her qualities have come to mean to me
over the years.
Philosophy
is, of course, not an exclusive domain for men or women, but exists as
something essentially human. Yet philosophy is here depicted as feminine. The
Ancients had understood something we often overlook, that an equality of gender
is not the same thing as an identity of gender. A man may lead, but his
instinct will often be to confront and protect. A woman may also lead, with no
less strength, but her instinct will often be to comfort and nurture. Boethius
does not need the power of a father right now, but the understanding of a
mother.
Her
insight appears greater than anything human, and she seems both very old, yet
with all the vibrancy of youth. Perhaps this is because philosophy is certainly
about human things, but transcends such things to also include the order of all
things, and their relationship to what is absolute. It is about the human mind
rising to what is greater than itself. Truth, furthermore, which is eternal and
unchanging, is neither young nor old.
She
seems smaller and larger at different times, human at one point, divine at
another. It is to this intersection of what is mortal and immortal, changing
and unchanging, finite and infinite that we must dedicate our attention.
She is
clothed in a beautiful robe, and it is seamless, crafted from only one piece,
just as wisdom is never divided, but always one. She had made the fabric
herself, as is appropriate for philosophy, where man can employ his own powers
of reason to come to understand truth for himself. Lady Philosophy will soon
show Boethius how to become a weaver of wisdom.
Yet the
robe is somewhat dull and worn, surely not just because it was made so long
ago, but because generations of mankind have failed to maintain it and give it
due attention. It is much like that section of a library with all the most insightful
books, yet they are covered in dust, and no one wishes to read them. We are
much more interested in the shallow trends of the day, than the profound wisdom
of the ages.
The
letters Pi and Theta represent practice and theory respectively, and they are
joined together by the steps we can all take from the immanence of particular
experience to the transcendence of universal contemplation.
Why is
the fabric also torn? Small minds rip a piece from here or there, and they
think they possess the whole truth. It is as if they gather the stray crumbs
from under the table, and believe themselves to be enjoying the whole banquet.
They are interested in their own glory, not the glory of all truth.
She
holds books containing wisdom, and her scepter indicates the true power this
wisdom grants her. This is the Philosophy Boethius needs right now, one that
can bring order to chaos, and meaning to confusion.
Written in 3/2015
Image: Lady Philosophy in her robes, from a manuscript of The Consolation of Philosophy (c. 1230)
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