The Death of Marcus Aurelius

The Death of Marcus Aurelius

Friday, July 24, 2020

Boethius, The Consolation of Philosophy 4.43


“The avenging son of Atreus strove for full ten years
before he expiated in the fall of Phrygian Troy
the wrong done to his brother's marriage.
The same Agamemnon must needs throw off his father's nature,
and himself, an unwilling priest,
thrust his knife into his unhappy daughter's throat,
and buy the winds at the cost of blood,
when he sought to fill the sails of the fleet of Greece.

“The King of Ithaca wept sore for his lost comrades
whom the savage Polyphemus swallowed into his huge maw
as he lay in his vast cave; but, when mad for his blinded eye,
he paid back with rejoicings for the sad tears he had drawn.

“Hercules became famous through hard labors.
He tamed the haughty Centaurs,
and from the fierce lion of Nemea took his spoil.
With his sure arrows he smote the birds of Stymphalus;
and from the watchful dragon took the apples of the Hesperides,
filling his hand with their precious gold;
and Cerberus he dragged along with threefold chain.
The story tells how he conquered the fierce Diomede
and set before his savage mares their master as their food.
The Hydra's poison perished in his fire.
He took the horn and so disgraced the brow of the river Achelous,
who hid below his bank his head ashamed.
On the sands of Libya he laid Antæus low;
Cacus he slew to sate Evander's wrath.
The bristling boar of Erymanthus
flecked with his own foam the shoulders
which were to bear the height of heaven;
for in his last labor he bore with unbending neck the heavens,
and so won again his place in heaven,
the reward of his last work.

“Go forth then bravely
whither leads the lofty path of high example.
Why do you sluggards turn your backs?
When the earth is overcome, the stars are yours.”

—from Book 4, Poem 7

This a lengthier poem, yet, as with many of the others, it seems a shame to break it into smaller pieces.

I find great comfort in poring over myths and legends, and particularly those of the Greeks and Romans. The have a wonderful way of moving beyond the particulars of time or place, of this or that culture, and touch upon such profound aspects of a universal human condition.

They may be grand in their scale, or fantastical in their context, but by coming to know the characters and their struggles, I also come to know a bit more about myself. By seeing where their choices take them, I also come to understand a bit more about how the Universe unfolds.

Though I have been a teacher for many years, or perhaps because I have been a teacher, I have come to accept that people are often quite unwilling to listen to others, and so I now keep most of my musings to myself.

I suppose there is something quite Boethian about that, since it helps me to remember that my first responsibility is to improve my own attitude above all else.

So if I wrote down everything I have to say about the three tales mentioned here, I would probably fill a whole book on its own. I will limit myself to just a few observations on how they relate to what Boethius has learned.

Agamemnon, Odysseus, and Hercules were all gifted with great strength, skill, and insight, and so I may forget that they were just trying to find their way in the world, like all the rest of us.

They faced obstacles and they made their choices. Sometimes their actions brought them worldly spoils, and sometimes their actions brought them even more terrible suffering. There were always egregious blunders mixed in with the triumphs.

What made them heroic, despite all of their many flaws, was their courage, not just physical but also moral. They did not lie down when confronted with hardships, but rather stood against them, knowing that the dignity of their lives depended upon the merit of inner character.

Was Agamemnon right to fight against the Trojans as he did? Was he right to sacrifice his own daughter so he could make it home after the war? Those are, I would suggest, precisely the sort of questions we have to ask when reading a good story.

He firmly followed the path he thought was best, however, and surely he came to understand how his fate was ultimately tied up with those choices.

When I first read about Odysseus, I was struck by the fact that he was not always the best of men, and that his cleverness could do him as much harm as it did him good.

Yet even though he could have surrendered and given up his quest at any time, he saw it through, all the way to the end.

When we think of Hercules, the Twelve Labors will come to mind, and we sometimes overlook why he had to complete those tasks to begin with. When Hera had driven him mad, he proceeded to murder his own family, and in his grief he visited the Oracle at Delphi to seek some form of absolution.

He was told that he would have to serve Eurystheus for ten years, and all of Hercules’ achievements arose from his willingness to do so.

Sometimes good men will do evil things, and sometimes evil men will do good things. As Solzhenitsyn said, we must learn that the line between good and evil runs through every human heart.

Heroism is found when we recognize that any and all misfortunes serve the purpose of helping us live well. If we have done poorly, suffering is a punishment to correct us, and if we have done well, suffering is then an opportunity to become even better.

The greatness will not be in the conquest of others, but in finally coming to conquer ourselves. 

Written in 12/2015

IMAGE: The Labors of Hercules

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