Boethius, The Consolation 3.11

. . . “Now I would have you consider the matter thus, that you may recognize how true veneration cannot be won through these shadowy honors. If a man who had filled the office of consul many times in Rome, came by chance into a country of barbarians, would his high position make him venerated by the barbarians? Yet if this were a natural quality in such dignities, they would never lose their effective function in any land, just as fire is never anything but hot in all countries.

“But since they do not receive this quality of veneration from any force peculiar to themselves, but only from a connection in the untrustworthy opinions of men, they become as nothing as soon as they are among those who do not consider these dignities as such.

“But is that only in the case of foreign peoples? Among the very peoples where they had their beginnings, do these dignities last forever? Consider how great was the power in Rome of old of the office of Præfect; now it is an empty name and a heavy burden upon the income of any man of Senator's rank. The præfect then, who was commissioner of the corn-market, was held to be a great man. Now there is no office more despised. For, as I said before, that which has no intrinsic beauty, sometimes receives a certain glory, sometimes loses it, according to the opinion of those who are concerned with it.

“If then high offices cannot make men venerated, if furthermore they grow vile by the infection of bad men, if changes of time can end their glory, and, lastly, if they are held cheaply in the estimation of whole peoples, I ask you, so far from affording true beauty to men, what beauty have they in themselves that men can desire?”

—from Book 3, Prose 4

Both life and art are full of examples of the fish out of water, the man unexpectedly pulled from his environment. Sometimes hilarity ensues, and sometimes it is followed by tragedy, but each and every time it teaches us quite an important lesson, that who we are is far more than the sum of our circumstances.

Yet we still tell ourselves that we are defined by our accidents, and we continue to neglect the substance. The man who is so greatly esteemed may think this reflects very well on him, until all his admirers are gone, and the whole house of cards collapses. He was once someone, and now he sees that he is no one. He thought honor could provide a permanent happiness, and then he learns, perhaps too late, that it is fleeting and changeable.

Take a fancy corporate lawyer from Boston, and put him in a farm town in Kansas. He has now gone from being the cock of the walk to being the local laughing stock. Take that tough Texas country sheriff, the pillar of his community who sits in the front pew of his church, and drop him in New York City. Once everyone deferred to him, but now no one gives him a second glance.

The grasping man will be lost when he is outside of his comfort zone, while the good man will continue being what he already was within himself, regardless of who may or may not notice. Fame takes on many faces, even as virtue stays the same.

What is admired in one place is ignored in another, what is venerated at one time is cursed at another. Even as I might be convinced that my position and status do me credit, they only mirror the opinions of others, opinions that can and will change with the breeze. Once I have lost my admiration society, what is there that is left of me? What I thought was the strength of my own merit is actually being held up by the support of others. The throne is more like a crutch.

I knew a well-respected Catholic priest back in Boston, who was considered quite an authority on many of the trendy philosophical issues of the day. When I was teaching at a school out in America’s heartland, he asked if he could stop by and give a lecture as part of a book tour he was doing. We told him he would be most welcome, but he hesitated when he saw what we could offer as payment from our budget.

“Don’t people there know who I am? I think I deserve better than that!”

I was given the uncomfortable task of explaining to him that no, most people here didn’t know who he was, and I jokingly added that perhaps he could think of it as chance to convince his listeners by the truth of what he said, instead of just overwhelming them with his credentials.

Needless to say, he flew over us on his way to California, where he had more of a following.

What I say and do expresses something about me, and what others say and do expresses something about them. Let me not confuse the one with the other. Even when rank is earned, it still does not take the place of one’s own character.

I try not to be cynical about the whims of politics, or the latest fashion, or intellectual trends, for example, but notice how often the flavor of the month is on the discount shelf before you know it. Being popular never makes something true, or good, or beautiful. 

Written in 9/2015