The Death of Marcus Aurelius

The Death of Marcus Aurelius

Thursday, April 18, 2019

Boethius, The Consolation 3.22


“Ah! how wretched are they
whom ignorance leads astray by her crooked path!
You seek not gold upon green trees,
nor gather precious stones from vines,
nor set your nets on mountain tops
to catch the fishes for your feast,
nor hunt the Umbrian sea in search of goats.
Man knows the depths of the sea themselves,
hidden though they be beneath its waves;
he knows which water best yields him pearls,
and which the scarlet dye.
But in their blindness men are content,
and know not where lies hid the good that they desire.
They sink in earthly things, and there they seek
that which has soared above the star-lit heavens.
What can I call down upon them
worthy of their stubborn folly?
They go about in search of wealth and honors;
and only when they have by labors vast
stored up deception for themselves,
do they at last know what is their true good.”

—from Book 3, Poem 8

Though I imagine such pranks would no longer be considered acceptable in our time of heightened sensitivity, I do recall my family telling me all about the legendary 1957 April Fools’ “Spaghetti Harvest” television segment by the BBC. It showed a Swiss farming family busy gathering the bumper crop from their spaghetti trees, so grateful for the disappearance of the terrible spaghetti weevil.  The story has it that hundreds of viewers wrote in, asking if they too could grow the spaghetti tree in Britain.

I might laugh that people believed the story, but then again, I once also managed to let my own trickster of a father convince me that whether a fire engine was red or yellow depended on the first letter of the city or town it came from.

Yes, we are prone to believing all sorts of ridiculous claims. And what could be more foolish than insisting that the goal of human happiness could ever be satisfied by acquiring and hoarding things far inferior to human nature? Instead of looking higher, we stoop lower. We seek the perfect in what is inherently imperfect.

No one in his right mind thinks that gold and jewels grow on trees, or that fish are caught on mountaintops, or that goats should be bred in the sea. We all become quite expert at our particular businesses and trades, and we will know most everything about how to build a widget, or sell a doohickey, or make ourselves rich and famous by playing a certain game. We have engineering, and marketing, and politics as the refined skills of getting all of that done.

Now what is the skill of actually being human, simply for its own sake? Well, we call it philosophy, but we’ve made it into a shambles. It is neutered by doubts and excuses.

I was often worried how people spend so much time and effort on perfecting the means, while almost completely neglecting the end. I was quite wary of too much pride here, because it is hardly my place to tell other people they are confused just because we might happen to disagree.

But the problem was far deeper than that. It wasn’t just that people might have thought differently than me, but that they couldn’t seem to explain the reasons why they thought that way. There were all these theories and foundations for being successful, but there didn’t seem to be any about being good, or about actually being happy. Why, I would ask, should I pursue this one aspect of my life, and leave the other behind? I was usually met with a vacant stare.

“Well, that’s just how it’s done.”

“Without a good job, you’ll obviously be nobody!”

“What, do you want to get old without a decent retirement plan?”

“Stop asking stupid questions, and just do what you need to do.”

So if it’s popular it’s good, if it makes money it’s good, if it’s convenient it’s good, and one should act for something without understanding why one acts?

Again, we are brilliant with the means, clueless with the ends. And only when it is perhaps too late do we realize how we’ve been paying attention to all the wrong things. Remember, that’s exactly where Boethius came to be as his life was soon to end.

So I ask myself, if I won’t believe in the spaghetti tree, why am I still tempted to believe in the blessings of fortune and fame? When it comes down to it, the former is far more reasonable than the latter.

Written in 9/2015


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