Can I call the men free whom a woman governs, to whom she gives laws, lays down directions, orders and forbids what to her seems fit; while he can deny and dare refuse nothing that she commands?
Does she ask? He must give. Does she call? He must come. Does she order him off? He must vanish. Does she threaten? He must tremble. For my part, I call such a fellow, though he may have been born in the noblest family, not only a slave, but a most abject slave.
And as in a large household, some slaves look upon themselves as more genteel than others, such as porters or gardeners, yet still they are slaves; in like manner, they who are inordinately fond of statues, of pictures, of embossed plate, of works in Corinthian brass, or magnificent palaces, are equally fools with the others.
"Nay, but,” say they, “we are the most eminent men of the state."
Nay! you are not superior to your fellow slaves. But as in a household, they who handle the furniture, brush it, anoint their masters, who sweep, and water, do not occupy the highest rank of servitude; in like manner they who have abandoned themselves to their passions for these things, occupy nearly the lowest grade of slavery itself.
Does she ask? He must give. Does she call? He must come. Does she order him off? He must vanish. Does she threaten? He must tremble. For my part, I call such a fellow, though he may have been born in the noblest family, not only a slave, but a most abject slave.
And as in a large household, some slaves look upon themselves as more genteel than others, such as porters or gardeners, yet still they are slaves; in like manner, they who are inordinately fond of statues, of pictures, of embossed plate, of works in Corinthian brass, or magnificent palaces, are equally fools with the others.
"Nay, but,” say they, “we are the most eminent men of the state."
Nay! you are not superior to your fellow slaves. But as in a household, they who handle the furniture, brush it, anoint their masters, who sweep, and water, do not occupy the highest rank of servitude; in like manner they who have abandoned themselves to their passions for these things, occupy nearly the lowest grade of slavery itself.
—from Cicero, Stoic Paradoxes 5
Many a modern reader will assume this must be about the war between the sexes, when it is really about the essence of our humanity, whatever the accidents. It is one thing for any man or woman to freely accept good counsel, but quite another for any man or woman to become a mindless lackey. Once the passions are calling the shots, especially those fueled by groupthink, we are little more than slaves to our circumstances.
Why should I spend twenty years jumping through hoops at school, to be followed by forty years of jumping through hoops at the office? Why is it necessary to pay a hefty mortgage, or marry a trophy wife, or train my children to define their success by baubles and balance sheets?
“Well, that’s how it’s done.”
And you will blindly take the master’s word on this?
“Don’t be so silly! We don’t have masters and slaves anymore!”
Be careful. Bondage takes on many forms.
“Are you comparing me to some unskilled laborer? I’m a professional who gets what he wants.”
And despite your impressive credentials, you are still working on someone else’s clock. Are you getting what you want, or are your wants getting you?
Some folks will frown at me when I speak of striving for nobility, because they think I am talking about the trappings of rank instead of the content of character. I most certainly consider someone my better when he has proven how he is not at the beck and call of money, fame, and gratification.
Among my eccentricities is a love of all things medieval, and my colleagues, who label the era as prudish, are often shocked by the bawdy and irreverent humor. This section brings to mind the old tale of Phyllis and Aristotle, in much the same vein as the many jokes about Xanthippe and Socrates.
It is said that Aristotle was advising his young pupil, Alexander, to avoid the company of the alluring Phyllis. She overheard his criticism, however, and schemed to seduce the old philosopher, knowing that he was secretly enamored of her. When Aristotle finally begged for her favors, Phyllis only agreed on the condition that she be permitted to ride him like a horse, a humiliating scene which she had cleverly arranged for Alexander to witness.
What use is the sharpest mind if it surrenders to the ficklest desires? What sort of man allows himself to be led by the nose once he spies a beautiful woman, or a heap of gold, or the prospect of prestige? Perhaps this never actually happened to Aristotle, but I see it happening every day, so it is a timely warning to us all.
Many a modern reader will assume this must be about the war between the sexes, when it is really about the essence of our humanity, whatever the accidents. It is one thing for any man or woman to freely accept good counsel, but quite another for any man or woman to become a mindless lackey. Once the passions are calling the shots, especially those fueled by groupthink, we are little more than slaves to our circumstances.
Why should I spend twenty years jumping through hoops at school, to be followed by forty years of jumping through hoops at the office? Why is it necessary to pay a hefty mortgage, or marry a trophy wife, or train my children to define their success by baubles and balance sheets?
“Well, that’s how it’s done.”
And you will blindly take the master’s word on this?
“Don’t be so silly! We don’t have masters and slaves anymore!”
Be careful. Bondage takes on many forms.
“Are you comparing me to some unskilled laborer? I’m a professional who gets what he wants.”
And despite your impressive credentials, you are still working on someone else’s clock. Are you getting what you want, or are your wants getting you?
Some folks will frown at me when I speak of striving for nobility, because they think I am talking about the trappings of rank instead of the content of character. I most certainly consider someone my better when he has proven how he is not at the beck and call of money, fame, and gratification.
Among my eccentricities is a love of all things medieval, and my colleagues, who label the era as prudish, are often shocked by the bawdy and irreverent humor. This section brings to mind the old tale of Phyllis and Aristotle, in much the same vein as the many jokes about Xanthippe and Socrates.
It is said that Aristotle was advising his young pupil, Alexander, to avoid the company of the alluring Phyllis. She overheard his criticism, however, and schemed to seduce the old philosopher, knowing that he was secretly enamored of her. When Aristotle finally begged for her favors, Phyllis only agreed on the condition that she be permitted to ride him like a horse, a humiliating scene which she had cleverly arranged for Alexander to witness.
What use is the sharpest mind if it surrenders to the ficklest desires? What sort of man allows himself to be led by the nose once he spies a beautiful woman, or a heap of gold, or the prospect of prestige? Perhaps this never actually happened to Aristotle, but I see it happening every day, so it is a timely warning to us all.
—Reflection written in 5/1999
IMAGE: Lucas Cranach the Elder, Phyllis and Aristotle (1530)
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