Hipparchia of Maroneia

As a reference for Musonius Rufus, Lectures 14.1:

As a younger man, I was always drawn to the beauty of physical form, as most young men are, yet even then it meant nothing to me without charm and intelligence. Wink at me all that you like, and give me all those come-hither looks, and you will only be attractive to me if there is something behind the makeup and the posing.

I still messed it all up, however, since I still wasn't looking deeply enough. Can you speak with clever words? Can you recite Homer, or Shakespeare, or the Bhagavad Gita to me? Wonderful, but that is just another set of impressions. 

I once fell head over heels for a girl who had long black curly hair, and was wearing a flowing hippie dress with strappy sandals. No, that alone didn't do it for me. This did:

"Hi, my name is Tara, In Hindi that means 'star'."

That was what made me swoon. Yes, say it with me: I-D-I-O-T.

Charm and intelligence are not nearly the same thing as character. There is a world of difference between the skills we happen to have and the merit of the choices we decide to make. The one is an accident of time and place, the other a reflection of our true identity. 

To look into someone's soul is not to see the trivialities; it is to appreciate the beauty of their virtues. I do not mean to sound crude, but there is really nothing "sexier" for me than a woman who has a genuine conscience. I had to learn that the hard way, after many failures, but I did finally learn it. 

What may be discussed in a college classroom has become increasingly restrictive, in a weird sort of neo-puritanical way, but I did once allow a group of talkative students to bicker among themselves about who was the most "beautiful" person in human history. I justified it on the grounds that we had started our conversation with Helen of Troy. 

I drifted off, but I was inevitably asked what my answer would be. 

Ingrid Bergman, playing Ilsa, as she walks into Rick's Café for the first time? No, not even that. 

"My answer is Hipparchia of Maroneia. End of discussion."

See, I'm not as stupid as I may at first appear. I made them curious. 

"Who is this Hipparchia? Was she more seductive than Helen? Classier that Ingrid Bergman? Spicier than Jennifer Lopez?"

"Absolutely. She is the best woman I've ever learned anything about, barring the Virgin Mary herself. You want class? She came from money, and gave it all up to live with Crates, a poor philosopher, because he shared her values. You want a strong woman? She had to convince him to marry her, because he didn't think he was good enough for her. You want seductive? Her soul was so full of conviction, poor Crates could hardly say no."

The most disinterested student in that class, the one who eventually went on to the seminary and will probably be made a bishop, was still confused. "Yeah, but was she hot?"

"How do you mean? Was she overweight, or did she have a lisp, or was her nose crooked? I have no idea. I really don't care. I just know that I would have gone to the ends of the earth for a woman like that."

"Yeah, but was she hot?" I weep for the Church.

I know quite well that many of the stories about Crates and Hipparchia are just that, apocryphal stories. Nevertheless, I would like to think they are at least true in spirit.

Her family, shocked by her interest in such a filthy man, tried to convince Crates to dissuade her. So the philosopher stripped off his meager clothes, and stood there naked, telling her that this was all she would ever have. She was not discouraged at all.

I have long been especially touched by the tale that she took up weaving, and he reproached her for wasting her time on something so vain. No, it turned out there was a deeper reason. She was with child, and there was now a need for such things. Tradition has it that they raised two children together.

Crates apparently gave this advice to Hipparchia about raising a child: 

Let his bath water be cold, his clothes be a cloak, his food be milk, yet not to excess. Rock him in a cradle made from a tortoise shell. . . . When he is able to speak and walk, dress him, not with a sword, as Aethra did with Theseus, but with a staff and cloak and wallet, which can guard men better than swords, and send him to Athens. 

I'm not the only freak to be inspired by her, to fall in love with her. William Penn, of all people, spoke of her as well:

I seek not the Pomp and Effeminacy of this World, but Knowledge and Virtue, Crates; and choose a Life of Temperance, before a Life of Delicacies: For true Satisfaction, thou knowest, is in the Mind; and that Pleasure is only worth seeking, that lasts for ever.

I have an image pinned to my office wall, of a 17th century engraving depicting Crates pointing to his ungainly face, asking why Hipparchia would ever desire it. I look at it whenever I wonder why my own wife would ever desire me.

Where, truly, is the beauty that you seek?