I have so far been speaking of the ordinary bathing establishments; what shall I say when I come to those of the freedmen? What a vast number of statues, of columns that support nothing, but are built for decoration, merely in order to spend money! And what masses of water that fall crashing from level to level! We have become so luxurious that we will have nothing but precious stones to walk upon.
In this bath of Scipio’s there are tiny chinks—you cannot call them windows—cut out of the stone wall in such a way as to admit light without weakening the fortifications; nowadays, however, people regard baths as fit only for moths if they have not been so arranged that they receive the sun all day long through the widest of windows, if men cannot bathe and get a coat of tan at the same time, and if they cannot look out from their bathtubs over stretches of land and sea.
So it goes; the establishments which had drawn crowds and had won admiration when they were first opened are avoided and put back in the category of venerable antiques as soon as luxury has worked out some new device, to her own ultimate undoing.
In this bath of Scipio’s there are tiny chinks—you cannot call them windows—cut out of the stone wall in such a way as to admit light without weakening the fortifications; nowadays, however, people regard baths as fit only for moths if they have not been so arranged that they receive the sun all day long through the widest of windows, if men cannot bathe and get a coat of tan at the same time, and if they cannot look out from their bathtubs over stretches of land and sea.
So it goes; the establishments which had drawn crowds and had won admiration when they were first opened are avoided and put back in the category of venerable antiques as soon as luxury has worked out some new device, to her own ultimate undoing.
—from Seneca, Moral Letters 86
Despite my griping, I am wary of those who glorify the past, just as I am wary of those who latch onto the latest craze. In both cases, the extremes arise from a failure to build our lives on a firm foundation, the timeless truths that are never at the mercy of either obstinacy or volatility. As long as humans remain humans, the virtues will remain virtues.
Regardless of the fashions, the best sort of bathtub will help us to wash away the day’s grime and to soothe our aching muscles; how strange that those who never seem to break a sweat from an honest day’s work are the ones most concerned with installing the most elaborate fixtures.
There is no shame in convenience, as long as it does not conflict with conscience, but the pursuit of luxury leads us down a path toward decadence, where the essence is confused with the accidents, and character is compromised for the sake of comfort. It is no longer “aesthetics” once the beautiful is reduced to mere indulgence. You will sadly find this to be a symptom of any decaying culture.
Just as the ancient Romans became obsessed with opulent baths, I think of how modern Americans seek out ever more hedonistic ways to spend their money. As a child, I saw the birth of the mighty shopping malls, and yet within a decade they were already being replaced by far more exciting diversions, which contained a whole new set of amusements.
The old buildings slowly decayed, the big brands moving out in favor of discount stores, massage parlors, insurance offices, and evangelical churches. Now most of them are being torn down, to be replaced by luxury condominiums.
It is much the same with restaurants, movie theaters, and hotels. Whole neighborhoods will rise and fall because people refuse to be happy with a life that is pure and simple. The High Street seems to rotate its trendy shops by the month, like the internet crazes change by the week, or even by the day.
Only those who lack a peace within themselves are forever craving their next fix. We believe the fads to be daring and liberating, when they are really just lazy and slavish.
Despite my griping, I am wary of those who glorify the past, just as I am wary of those who latch onto the latest craze. In both cases, the extremes arise from a failure to build our lives on a firm foundation, the timeless truths that are never at the mercy of either obstinacy or volatility. As long as humans remain humans, the virtues will remain virtues.
Regardless of the fashions, the best sort of bathtub will help us to wash away the day’s grime and to soothe our aching muscles; how strange that those who never seem to break a sweat from an honest day’s work are the ones most concerned with installing the most elaborate fixtures.
There is no shame in convenience, as long as it does not conflict with conscience, but the pursuit of luxury leads us down a path toward decadence, where the essence is confused with the accidents, and character is compromised for the sake of comfort. It is no longer “aesthetics” once the beautiful is reduced to mere indulgence. You will sadly find this to be a symptom of any decaying culture.
Just as the ancient Romans became obsessed with opulent baths, I think of how modern Americans seek out ever more hedonistic ways to spend their money. As a child, I saw the birth of the mighty shopping malls, and yet within a decade they were already being replaced by far more exciting diversions, which contained a whole new set of amusements.
The old buildings slowly decayed, the big brands moving out in favor of discount stores, massage parlors, insurance offices, and evangelical churches. Now most of them are being torn down, to be replaced by luxury condominiums.
It is much the same with restaurants, movie theaters, and hotels. Whole neighborhoods will rise and fall because people refuse to be happy with a life that is pure and simple. The High Street seems to rotate its trendy shops by the month, like the internet crazes change by the week, or even by the day.
Only those who lack a peace within themselves are forever craving their next fix. We believe the fads to be daring and liberating, when they are really just lazy and slavish.
—Reflection written in 1/2014
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