This article presents a detailed study of an early section of the actual works and days of Hesiod's Works and Days. The treatment consistently eschews obsolete assumptions about this poem, in particular that it reduces to a didactic presentation to the early Greek farmer. A key principle of the method followed is to pay closer attention to the text's relation to epic forms than has been typical among the poem's commentators. The result is to find (...) that a certain literary figure gradually develops in the section discussed. Namely, the plowing nominally covered there stands for the section's portion on the human condition, a condition implicitly compared with that associated with traditional epic. The figure evokes a well-rounded person, aware of the divine and of the world's uncertainties, with a long-term sense of purpose involving good organization of one's life, as opposed to someone engaged in helter-skelter pursuit of transitory activities, perhaps war specifically. With this identification of virtual protagonist established by the end of the section, the ground is prepared for any further development of the figure as that entity's undertakings or adventures in the remainder of the poem. (shrink)

This chapter contains sections titled: Greece Rome Conclusion Notes.

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:American Journal of Philology 126.1 (2005) 135-138 [Access article in PDF] Jenny Strauss Clay. Hesiod's Cosmos. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2003. xii + 202 pp. Cloth, $65. This book, following on The Wrath of Athena (1983), The Politics of Olympus (1989), and a number of articles, continues Clay's distinctive work on "early Greek theology" (1), that is, the nature of gods and their relations with human beings as (...) treated in archaic epic poetry. For Clay, the works of early Greek epos can be seen as a coherent and interconnected whole, in which the combined subject matter of the Homeric Hymns, Iliad, and Odyssey is book-ended, as it were, by the two major Hesiodic poems: Theogony tells the story from the beginning of things to the accession of Zeus, whereas Works and Days describes life in the post-heroic Iron Age. Hesiod's Cosmos argues for a closely interrelated and complementary relationship between these two works, in which one poem looks at the world from a divine standpoint, paying little attention to human life, while the other focuses on the here-and-now exigencies of human existence, considering the gods mainly as they intersect with those realities. Together they make up a view of the world that transcends any single perspective, displaying the superior skill, intelligence, and inspiration of their poet. As a pragmatic explanation for this thoroughly intertextual relationship, Clay proposes that Hesiod may have been at work simultaneously on both compositions.Dealing succinctly with the Hesiodic Question about authorship and authorial persona, Clay locates the composition of Theogony and Works and Days in a middle ground, somewhere between the work of a historical poet, whose biography is reflected in the poems, and the product of a didactic tradition in which "Hesiod" is the persona that a performer of this poetry adopts (a view developed especially by Gregory Nagy). A historical Hesiod seems likely to Clay, but even so, "the voice we hear is constructed within the text for its own ends" (3). Although she maintains that this question is not central to her analysis of the Hesiodic poems, the nuanced and subtle cross-references that she postulates between the two works prompt her to write as if there were an individual, thoughtful author behind the texts—one working with ideas that will be taken up later by acknowledged "philosophical" writers. Further, and central to her methodology, Clay maintains (9) that it is both possible and desirable, if hardly simple, to seek authorial intentions in the works under discussion. The admittedly provocative goal of Hesiod's Cosmos, then, is to "demonstrate a coherent plan that unites the poems into a consistent vision that is both thoughtful and subtle" and thereby "to recover the reputation the Hesiodic poems long enjoyed in antiquity" (2: a discussion of Hesiod's ancient reputation would have been welcome here). [End Page 135]The book is well organized to achieve that end. It begins with a general chapter on Theogony and another on Works and Days, summarizing each work while emphasizing its structural peculiarities and teasing out the meanings suggested thereby. The five chapters that follow compare salient aspects of the two poems: their divergent proems, what they say about the origins of humankind, their two versions of the Prometheus story, the presentation of gods in Works and Days and men in Theogony, and finally each poem's treatment of what Clay terms "hybrids" (monsters and heroes, both being of mixed birth) in a chapter that includes substantial discussion of the Hesiodic Catalogues. A brief conclusion, focusing on the ancient theme of a contest between Hesiod and Homer, argues that Hesiodic poetry makes a claim to broader knowledge and scope than Homeric.A conspicuous and valuable characteristic of Clay's approach is her insistence on treating both texts in their entirety. Each poem is reviewed in linear sequence in the two introductory chapters, with an eye to its "intratextual" content—especially the relation of digressions to the structural backbone. The Theogony's basic structure is obviously genealogical, but its narrative digressions come at unpredictable junctures, some of them (such... (shrink)

Xenophon's Socratic Works demonstrates that Xenophon, a student of Socrates, military man, and man of letters, is an indispensable source for our understanding of the life and philosophy of Socrates. David M. Johnson restores Xenophon's most ambitious Socratic work, the Memorabilia, to its original literary context, enabling readers to experience it as Xenophon's original audience would have, rather than as a pale imitation of Platonic dialogue. He shows that the Memorabilia, together with Xenophon's Apology, (...) provides us with our best evidence for the trial of Socrates, and a comprehensive and convincing refutation of the historical charges against Socrates. Johnson's account of Socrates' moral psychology shows how Xenophon's emphasis on control of the passions can be reconciled with the intellectualism normally attributed to Socrates. Chapters on Xenophon's Symposium and Oeconomicus reveal how Xenophon used all the literary tools of Socratic dialogue to defend Socratic sexual morality and debate the merits and limits of conventional elite values. Throughout the book, Johnson argues that Xenophon's portrait of Socrates is rich and coherent, and largely compatible with the better-known portrait of Socrates in Plato. Xenophon aimed not to provide a rival portrait of Socrates, Johnson shows, but to supplement and clarify what others had said about Socrates. Xenophon's Socratic Works thus provides readers with a far firmer basis for reconstruction of the trial of Socrates, a key moment in the history of Athenian democracy, and for our understanding of Socrates' seminal impact on Greek philosophy. This volume introduces Xenophon's Socratic works to a wide range of readers, from undergraduate students encountering Socrates or ancient philosophy for the first time to scholars with interests in Socrates or ancient philosophy more broadly. It is also an important resource for readers interested in Socratic dialogue as a literary form, the trial of Socrates, Greek sexual morality, or Greek social history. (shrink)

In their introduction to the recent excellent volume Plato & Hesiod, the editors G.R. Boys-Stones and J.H. Haubold observe that when we think about the problematic relationship between Plato and the poets, we tend to narrow this down to that between Plato and Homer. Hesiod is practically ignored. Unjustly so, the editors argue. Hesiod provides a good opportunity to start thinking more broadly about Plato's interaction with poets and poetry, not in the least because the ‘second poet’ (...) of Greece represents a different type of poetry from Homer's heroic epics, that of didactic poetry. What goes for Plato and Hesiod goes for Proclus and Hesiod. Proclus , the productive head of the Neoplatonic school in Athens, took a great interest in poetry to which he was far more positively disposed than Plato had ever been. He wrote, for example, two lengthy treatises in reaction to Socrates' devastating criticism of poetry in the Republic as part of his commentary on that work in which he tries to keep the poets within the Platonic pale. This intriguing aspect of Proclus' thought has, as one might expect, not failed to attract scholarly attention. In Proclus' case too, however, discussions tend to concentrate on his attitude towards Homer . To some extent this is only to be expected, since much of the discussion in the Commentary on the Republic centres on passages from Homer. Proclus did not, however, disregard Hesiod: we still possess his scholia on the Works and Days, now available in a recent edition by Patrizia Marzillo. (shrink)

Evelyn-White, Mair, and Brown all translated Hesiod into prose; Lattimore now offers us a very readable translation in blank verse. He writes, as Robert Lowell remarked, "the most accurate verse translations in the language." An attractive and refreshing volume.--L. S. F.

"This is a strong and sophisticated treatment of Martin Luther King, Jr., that makes an important contribution. It reflects Burrow's immense knowledge of personalist philosophy and the thought of King." —Gary Dorrien, Reinhold Niebuhr Chair of Social Ethics, Union Theological Seminary "This scholarly, courageous, insightful work, which fuses so successfully King's academic career with his heritage from the Black Church, is a much needed addition to Martin Luther King studies and breaks new ground for all of us who pursue truth (...) of the 'whole' King. No book more clearly illustrates how pervasive an influence the philosophy of personalism was on King's life and thought. It is an obligatory read." —Ira G. Zepp, Jr., Professor Emeritus, McDaniel College Although countless books have been devoted to the life and work of Martin Luther King, Jr., few, if any, have focused on King's appropriation of, and contribution to, the intellectual tradition of personalism. Burrow argues that King's adoption of personalism represented the fusion of his black Christian faith and his commitment not only to the social gospel of Walter Rauschenbusch, but most especially to the social gospel practiced by his grandfather, his father, and black preacher-scholars at Morehouse College. Burrow devotes much-needed attention both to King's conviction that the universe is value-infused and to the implications of this ideology for King's views on human dignity and his concept of the "Beloved Community." Burrow also sheds light on King’s doctrine of God. He contends that King's view of God has been uncritically and erroneously relegated by black liberation theologians to the general category of "theistic absolutism" and he offers corrections to what he believes are misinterpretations of this and other aspects of King’s thought. He concludes with an application of King’s personalism to present-day social problems, particularly as they pertain to violence in the black community. (shrink)

This book presents translations of three dialogues Xenophon devoted to the life and thought of his teacher, Socrates. Each is accompanied by notes and an interpretative essay that will introduce new readers to Xenophon and foster further reflection in those familiar with his writing. "Apology of Socrates to the Jury" shows how Socrates conducted himself when he was tried on the capital charge of not believing in the city's gods and corrupting the young. Although Socrates did not secure his (...) own acquittal, he profoundly impressed some listeners who then helped to shape the public perception of philosophy as a noble, if highly idiosyncratic, way of life. In "Oeconomicus," Xenophon relates the conversation Socrates had on the day he turned from the study of natural philosophy to that of moral and political matters. "Oeconomicus" is concerned most directly with the character and purpose of Socrates' political philosophy. Xenophon provides entertaining portraits of Socrates' circle of friends in the "Symposium." In the process, he conveys the source of every individual's pride in himself, thus defining for each a conception of human excellence or virtue. The dialogue concludes with Socrates' beautiful speech on love (eros) and its proper place in the good or happy life. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:The Other Greeks: The Family Farm and the Agrarian Roots of Western CivilizationPaul A. RaheVictor Davis Hanson. The Other Greeks: The Family Farm and the Agrarian Roots of Western Civilization. New York: The Free Press, 1995. xvi 1 541 pp. Cloth, $28 (US), $38 (Can.).On the back flap of the dust jacket of this volume, one finds a photograph of its author. He is not represented in the (...) customary manner—as an urbane sophisticate attired in jacket and tie, leaning against a bookcase or sitting at a desk, his hair carefully combed, his beard immaculately trimmed. Instead, he stands slouched before a weathered, wooden structure. He is adorned with sunglasses and jeans; his hair is unkempt, even wind-blown; he sports a mustache and appears to be unshaved; his sleeves are rolled up; his shirttails hang out and they appear to be soiled. We can infer that the shirt’s owner is himself unwashed. Victor Davis Hanson wants us to see him less as a professor of Greek than as a rube—akin to the “dour husbandmen, ‘their facial expressions like sour vinegar’” (403) celebrated by Aristophanes (Eccl. 289–92).This is as it should be, for among classicists Hanson is sui generis, and his is no ordinary scholarly work. He holds a Ph.D. from Stanford University and teaches Greek at California State University at Fresno. But that is the least of it—for, with his brothers and a cousin, he has long operated a family farm in the southern San Joaquin Valley. He knows more about agriculture of the sort practiced by the ancient Hellenes than anyone now alive, and he has devoted his career as a scholar to making sense of classical Greek civilization in light of that knowledge. Everything that he has previously published—in articles and book chapters, in his splendid dissertation Warfare and Agriculture in Classical Greece (Pisa 1983), and in his provocative monograph The Western Way of War: Infantry Battle in Classical Greece (New York 1989)—grew out of an attempt to make a whole of his divided life. The same can now be said for the book under review, which is nothing less than a masterpiece.Hanson makes no mention of Antonio Gramsci or even Karl Marx; and from the down-to-earth, resolutely empirical tone of his book, one can easily infer that he would have little patience with the elaborate theoretical posturings of either. But this notwithstanding, he can perhaps best be characterized as a heterodox Marxist. Put simply, he claims that late in the Dark Ages, Greek husbandmen invented a mode of production theretofore unknown and that in accord with the dictates of that mode of production, they elaborated the way of life and the institutions and practices that we commonly recognize as distinctively “Western.” The mode of production that Hanson has in mind is diversified farming [End Page 459] conducted in accord with the dictates of a primitive but nonetheless well-elaborated agronomy by slaveowning, resident proprietors.In the first part of his book Hanson surveys the archaeological and the literary evidence for early Greek settlement patterns and early Greek life; he examines with care the implications of what is said and of what is left unsaid in the last book of Homer’s Odyssey and in Hesiod’s Works and Days; and he draws together from the remaining literature every snippet of evidence pertinent to understanding what it was like to be a farmer in classical Hellas. At every point he is sensitive to information conveyed in the surviving evidence that city slickers, such as myself, inevitably overlook; and slowly, inexorably, piecing together fragments gleaned from a thousand sources, he builds up a persuasive picture of a transformation in agricultural technique more profound in its implications for human life than the Industrial Revolution.In the second part of his book Hanson traces the logic of ancient Greek constitutionalism and the otherwise inexplicable protocols of hoplite warfare to the special needs and peculiar outlook of agriculturalists eking out a livelihood from diversified farming and standing in need of protection for their property and their way of life against predators domestic and foreign. Finally... (shrink)

Canadian novelist Rudy Wiebe's award-winning memoir, of this earth: A Mennonite Boyhood in the Boreal Forest, invites readers into a warm subjective realm in which a meditative Wiebe recounts his growing-up years from birth to age thirteen. As self-reflexive "rememberer," Wiebe explores the sensate freshness of a boy's ways of seeing, touching, and, not least, hearing the world. The young Wiebe lives with his parents and siblings and neighbours in an emotionally warm Christian community of 1920s immigrants to Canada who (...) have fled from the Soviet Union in the wake of the 1917 Revolution and who struggle for economic survival in a remote corner of rural Saskatchewan during the 1930s and 1940s. But Wiebe's memoir of childhood is not only autobiography and social history; it is also a linguistic text that subtly invites readers to look beyond its textual boundaries to his earlier work. In particular, it has the effect of carrying alert readers back to the setting—at least physically and geographically if not altogether socially and culturally—of Wiebe's first novel, Peace Shall Destroy Many. That early novel was a caustic work notoriously controversial especially among Mennonite readers in Canada when it appeared almost a half-century ago. The 2006 memoir—with intertextual allusion—invites readers to recall especially one layer of that early novel barely noticed by readers, a layer eclipsed and partially hidden by the dominant narrative. Specifically, it invites readers to see the virtually sinless and prelapsarian world of the idealistic young Hal Wiens whose idyllic life in the fictional spaces of Peace Shall Destroy Many goes unnoticed because it is so very much in the shadow of the doubts and tensions that inform the much larger world of his spiritually troubled older brother, nineteen-year old Thom Wiens. The memoir pushes readers into re-thinking the reception of that novel, and into finding anew beneath its severe and satiric treatment of the austere adult world the linguistic and spiritual joy of life given shape in the playful perceptions of the young Hal. The memoir becomes a stimulus for a transformational re-reading of the novel. This essay explores the two works in light of each other and of conventions that govern the two respective genres. It attempts, also, to account for the reading strategies that Wiebe's 2006 memoir proposes to readers of his first novel, and for key influences informing the two respective works. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Notes on Hesiod's Works and Days, 383-828E. F. BeallErrata: In E. F. Beall's "Notes on Hesiod's Works and Days, 383- 828," AJP 122.2 (June 2001):155-71, the references to the works of Hoekstra and Solmsen were inadvertently switched in proofs to cite the wrong work of each author. Page 156, notes 5 and 9 should have referred to Hoekstra's "Hésiode, Les Travaux et (...) les jours..."; page 158, note 14 should have referred to Solmsen's Hesiodi: Theogonia, Opera et Dies, Scutum. We regret the error. [End Page 154]In the interests of stimulating critical attention to the works and days proper of the Works and Days, lines 383-828, I offer some remarks on selected problems of the text.11. The poem's addressee will need(405-6)West2 and others suspect 406,3 mostly becfause Aristotle does not observe it and sees the gunē as a wife (Oec. 1343a, Pol. 1252b),4 but several critics beginning with Scaliger (sixteenth century) have noted that this is no [End Page 155] basis for doubt. Although some merely impugn the philosopher's memory without evidence, Lanzi in his 1808 commentary and Erbse (1993, 24) make a substantive point: marriage upon starting farming (prōtista) is inconsistent with Hesiod's advice to wait until age thirty at 696-97.5 One can respond that Aristotle may have different recensions from ours here (one without 406 and 695-705) and elsewhere.6 But if the issue is whose recensions are best, then despite any feeling that Aristotle is "closer" to the originals, other epic citations hurt the case for his texts. For example,7 we read today that trembling (tromos) seized (hele) Hector upon meeting Achilles (Il. 22.136), and he fled for a time (to 22.225); yet Aristotle says (EE 1230a) that what seized (heile) him at the encounter was shame (aidōs), making him brave and able to face the danger. At first sight this conflates the actual line with an earlier one, 22.105 (= 6.442): Hector is ashamed (aideomai) for urging battle at another time.8 But possibly Aristotle has, rather, a version of the Iliad without character development, where Hector and Achilles get right to their contest. If so, our version is superior: the temporary flight allows introduction of a wealth of detail; see Richardson 1993, 121-32. With Hesiod, Metaphysics 984b omits Theogony 118, to make Gaea/Earth support not just all the gods of Olympus but simply "all," a role few would now agree the poem could intend for her. Lesser concerns about 406 being easily met,9 it may be kept in the text bequeathed to us. [End Page 156]2.10(410-13)Etōsioergos is often construed as "lazy" or the like. Thus West explains the word as the man's neglect of his ergon rendering it etōsios, "useless." But as Lehrs says against Voss's equivalent, "säumiger," etōsio-ergos is really frustra-laborans: acting uselessly, that is, without purpose; it is not causing uselessness via inaction.11 Thus, for example, Tandy and Neale: "works at vain tasks." Etōsioergos should be different from anaballomenos in 412, given ou... oude, contra West's forced interpretation of hendiadys. The "lazy" construal may stem from belief that gar indicates explanation of anaballesthai in 410, but this particle's causal thrust is inherently loose. Moreover, it can govern more than a clause or sentence (de Jong), and it is natural to take the entire segment 411-13 as the quasi-explanation of 410.12 In short, 411 and 412 single out two distinct modes of avoiding serious work, puttering and putting off, rather than simply attack the avoidance in broad strokes twice. It is also possible that 413 adds yet a third mode: Amboliergos might be "working sporadically" rather than delaying the required labor all at once. Anabolē in its sense of "thrown upward" can refer to an intermittent process (as a boiling liquid makes bubbles; Arist., Pr. 936b), so that the delay of any entity to which it was prefixed might be thought fragmented. [End Page 157... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Aquinas on the Beginning and End of Human Life by Fabrizio AmeriniPatrick LeeAquinas on the Beginning and End of Human Life. By Fabrizio Amerini. Translated by Mark Henninger. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 2013. Pp. xxii + 260. $29.95 (cloth). ISBN: 978-0-674-07247-3.This book provides a comprehensive and textually grounded presentation of Thomas Aquinas’s teaching on embryology and an assessment of its bioethical implications. Despite (what I (...) regard as) some mistakes on the application of that teaching to contemporary embryological data, it is an invaluable sourcebook for Aquinas on this issue. At times, Amerini’s “aporetic” style makes for convoluted arguments, but it raises challenging questions and thus will assist anyone working through these issues. (As the title indicates, it also treats the end of life—but only very briefly, in a couple of pages near the end of the book.)The first two chapters examine Aquinas’s general principles regarding matter, form, and substantial generation (the coming to be of a substance), and his positon on the human soul as both subsistent and the substantial form of the human body. Amerini’s treatment is thorough and provides an extensive bibliographical guide to this issue. However, it seems to me that Amerini is less than clear on the distinctiveness of substantial change. Since there are (according to Aquinas and Aristotle) no degrees in the category of substance, generation is not a process but an instantaneous change. Amerini’s frequent use of the term “process of generation,” as well as the position he later proposes on the identity of the embryo, seems to conflict with that point. [End Page 489]Chapters 3 and 4 contain detailed exposition of Aquinas’s basic embryological position, and chapter 4 raises various questions about this position (including doubts that Amerini evidently has about the unicity of the human being’s substantial form). Applying his basic metaphysical principles to what he at the time believed were the embryological facts, Aquinas concluded that the human being with a rational soul is not present until forty days after fertilization for males or ninety days for females. The father and the mother generate the offspring, but the mother provides only the material cause in the form of menstrual blood; the father is the efficient and formal cause, acting through the semen as an instrumental cause. With the power (virtus) of the principal cause in it, the semen gradually organizes the menstrual blood provided by the mother to form, first, a being with a vegetative soul, then an animal, and finally an animal with a body suited to be formed by a rational soul, which God then infuses into it. Aquinas holds that, unlike a sensitive or vegetative soul, a rational soul must be directly created by God, since the rational soul is the source of operations that are independent of matter, that is, performed by the human being but without a bodily organ. Only matter that is suited to a form can receive it. Therefore the matter must be suitably disposed. Just as one can make a knife only with matter capable of supporting its function—and so the matter must be hard and capable of being sharp—so only a body with sense organs, and thus capable of supporting those actions prerequisite to rational operations, can receive a rational soul.Chapter 5 sets out in detail Amerini’s exposition and interpretation of Aquinas on the identity of the embryo. Amerini recognizes, of course, Aquinas’s mistakes and ignorance regarding basic embryological facts—inevitable given the time in which he wrote. Still, Amerini holds that Aquinas’s main conclusion regarding delayed hominization is still valid. He agrees with Aquinas that the general proportionality requirement implies that the embryo/fetus must first possess sensory organs to have a body apt for the reception of a rational soul.On the other hand, Amerini also advances what he believes is a via media between proponents of delayed hominization and proponents of immediate hominization. He argues that although the embryo is not numerically identical with the human being (which comes to be only with the infusion of the rational soul), nevertheless, the embryo from... (shrink)

Simon Forman, as Barbara Howard Traister puts it, “turned himself into text”: an obsessive writer, he left a cache of manuscripts, some of which—like the earliest surviving chronological case records—are of great historical value. Some of Forman's manuscripts are autobiographical, and it is for the more intimate details of his life that Forman has been known in recent years. He is “notorious” today largely for his sex life, being the subject of A. L. Rowse's well‐known study, Simon Forman: (...) Sex and Society in Shakespeare's Age . But Traister looks at Forman's manuscripts in their entirety, and the bulk of her book considers the intellectual and professional aspects of his medical and astrological practice. This provides a welcome counterweight to Rowse's account of Forman as well as some corrections to the fleeting and often misleading impressions given in other secondary literature.In so far as Forman's professional life is known, it is as a charlatan who preyed on the gullible to acquire fame, money, and sexual favors. From Traister's account there would seem to be a kernel of truth in this but a great deal of distortion too. Though by no means averse to taking payment “in kind” from the women he treated, Forman was a widely recognized authority on the diseases of women and his case notes show that he took his practice seriously. The same is true more generally of Forman's astrological practice , which was founded on a deep belief in the accuracy of astrological predictions. Indeed, Forman claimed that only through astrology could a physician successfully diagnose and treat disease.Forman was, however, a controversial figure in his own age, being “notorious” in the sense that he repeatedly fell foul of the London College of Physicians, which attempted to enforce its monopoly of medical practice in the English capital and its environs. Forman was brought before the college on several occasions for practicing without a license and received a number of fines and jail sentences for his repeated violations of the law. He was continually hounded and ridiculed by the college, partly because he was so successful. People—especially women—from all sections of English society came to consult Forman as a physician and astrologer, although it was largely for the former that he was venerated. Although he was mocked by the college for his ignorance of classical learning, Forman's medical knowledge was considerable, if not entirely systematic, though he lacked the necessary “polish” to present his knowledge in a manner acceptable to such a conservative body. Nevertheless, Forman's medical reputation was sufficiently impressive for him to be granted a license to practice by Cambridge University, after what was most likely a serious examination.Forman's case notes show that he worked within a largely Galenic framework, and most of his treatments aimed at restoring humoral equilibrium. But, like many other practitioners of the time, he embellished his practice with chemical drug therapies; and there is evidence that he incorporated Paracelsian ideas. His case notes are so valuable because they show Forman's knowledge and practice evolving steadily over time: a development that is evident, for example, in his writings on plague. His first essay on plague was composed during the London epidemic of 1593, his second during the outbreak of 1607. The former treated the disease astrologically and theologically, seeing the epidemic as a form of divine punishment for the sins of mankind. The second dealt with the physical nature of the disease and its immediate causes. The two works should not be seen as set in opposition to one another, for they dealt with different features of a complex web of causation, with the increasing concern related to natural causes typifying much of the writing on plague at this time. Growing familiarity with plague—which typically broke out in major cities every ten years or so—permitted closer observation of the disease as a natural phenomenon. Forman was well placed to do this because he remained in London during both outbreaks, a decision that did much to enhance his professional reputation and expand his clientele.The importance of Forman's manuscript collection ensures that this book will reach a wide readership, and few will be disappointed. The author writes clearly, with sophistication and insight, and avoids the anachronistic sensationalism of earlier accounts. As might be expected from the title, the book is especially enlightening about medical astrology, the dominant aspect of Forman's professional life. It is interesting to read this account alongside Michael MacDonald's study of Richard Napier—Mystical Bedlam: Madness, Anxiety, and Healing in Seventeenth Century England —for there are many areas of commonality as well as significant differences. All in all, this is a truly fascinating book. Historians of medicine and astrology will find much in it that is relevant to their own areas of specialization. (shrink)

Xenophon’s Oeconomicus presents the boldest possible response to the city’s charge that Socrates corrupted the young: the city itself, not Socrates, is guilty of this charge. The city’s teaching about what constitutes a noble human being cannot be reconciled with the good of the human being as such; it actually opposes this good. While the would-be gentleman’s desire to be noble shapes his understanding of household management, it fails to bring him the god-like self sufficiency he seeks. Socrates’ critique (...) of the perfect gentleman’s education of his wife demonstrates why the sacrifices made for the household and the gods do not benefit those who seek to be noble. Over the course of the dialogue, images of the Socratic way of life emerge. By revealing the nature of philosophy and its relationship to the good and noble things which the city extols, this dialogue teaches its readers why the Socratic way of life benefits human beings. (shrink)

Hesiod’s Fable of the Hawk and the Nightingale remains a scholarly problem: its “might is right” moral seems to counteract the point that the poet appears to be making in this part of the Works and Days. Moreover, it is introduced with an address to the kings but finishes immediately prior to a dislocated appellation to Hesiod’s brother Perses. We have no clearly analogous fable to set next to this one. In this paper I step outside (...) the Greek tradition and present a comparable story from the Indic Mahābhārata that involves not only a hawk and a dove but also a king who protects the latter. I argue that the material it supplies can help us in our interpretation of the Hesiodic fable by opening up the possibility that there is in fact a third character within the drama – absent from the text itself but essential for our understanding of it – who had the power to protect the nightingale from the hawk but who failed to do so. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:The Dancing Sokrates and the Laughing Xenophon, or the Other SymposiumBernhard HussXenophon's Symposium is one of his minor Socratic works, and even though other opera Socratica Xenophontis, his Memorabilia and probably also his Oeconomicus, are much more famous, occasionally it has been called his best work.1 Nonetheless the Symposium has often been judged very negatively in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries.2 If one looks closely at its (...) Forschungsgeschichte, there can be no doubt about the origin of most of these critical statements: it has suffered from comparison with Plato's famous work of the same title. In 1972 Gallardo's report on recent research on Xenophon's Symposium had to state that little had changed since the days of Wilamowitz–Moellendorff: "El Banquete de Jenofonte, obra amena y de agradabilísima lectura, siempre, o casi siempre, es puesta, inevitablemente, en relación con su homónimo platónico, y a través de esta comparación se la suele juzgar."3The vast majority of modern Platonists and Xenophontists tend to agree about the relative chronology of the two works. There is very little doubt that Plato wrote his Symposium first. It seems certain that Pla [End Page 381] to's was published between 385/84 and 378,4 and Xenophon very probably produced his only in the late 360s.5 The considerable number of parallels between the two6 proves that Xenophon knew Plato's Symposium. And not only did he know it—his own opusculum was strongly influenced by Plato's opus. Still, Plato's Symposium is not the only work Xenophon quotes and uses while constructing his story of the evening at Kallias' house: he is also influenced by Plato's Phaedrus and other Platonic dialogues as well as by other Socratics, namely Antisthenes and Aeschines. And one should not forget the well–known fact that Xenophon generally does not just quote other authors, but rearranges the elements he borrows from them according to his own needs in order to create largely independent new works of art which are neither Platonic nor Antisthenic but simply Xenophontic. Therefore Gallardo certainly is right: looking at Plato's Symposium while making statements about Xenophon's can be helpful, but "reconociendo, pues, lo razonable de esta actitud, nos parece sin embargo más justo estudiar la obra de Jenofonte por sí misma, prescindiendo, en principio, de cualesquiera otras consideraciones."7My primary goal here is to promote a better understanding of both the peculiar intention and the literary technique of this underestimated work. For this purpose, let us first look at a particular passage of Xenophon's Symposium which has often been misunderstood by ancient and modern interpreters (and which is a good example of more [End Page 382] general misunderstandings concerning the work as a whole) and then attempt to draw a number of conclusions regarding the composition and meaning of this text.IThe passage in question is Symp. 2.15–20. What is the context of this little scene? We are at a dinner party thrown by the rich Kallias in honor of his erōmenos Autolykos, victor in the pankration at the Panathenaea of 422 B.C. What is the background? After the victory of his beloved Autolykos, Kallias, accompanied by the boy and his father, Lykon, and one Nikeratos, encounters Sokrates and a number of his friends, namely Kritobulos, Hermogenes, Antisthenes, and Charmides. He invites them to his house. After some hesitation, the Socratics accept the invitation. They take their seats (or, better, their klinai) in Kallias' andrōn, impressed by the splendid beauty of the young Autolykos. While they are dining, they are joined by Philippos the jester (1.11–16) and later also by a Syracusan impresario and his little troupe of artists (2.1), which consists of two beautiful girls and a boy who, as it seems, does not yield too much to Autolykos as far as good looks go. The guests greatly enjoy their music, their dancing, and their artistic skills (3.1, 9.3–7), and Sokrates, throughout the symposium in a very relaxed and jovial mood, is the first to express this, praising both his... (shrink)

Mettre le noos en relation avec les idées de « panaristos » et de « méga nèpios » permet d’étudier les spécificités du concept noétique chez Hésiode lequel est le plus souvent amalgamé, dans les recherches sur l’évolution historique du noos/noein, à Homère. La présente étude propose d’articuler davantage le noos/noein dans les objectifs poétiques propres aux Travaux et Jours d’où émerge une vision particulière de l’activité psychique de l’individu grec archaïque, depuis le sot ignorant (Persès et les mauvais rois) (...) jusqu’au poète sachant (Hésiode lui-même). Il convient également de montrer comment Hésiode établit une nouvelle hiérarchie des créatures sur la base du noos qui devient consubstantiel à la dikè. Ensemble, ces deux paramètres sont insérés dans un discours à la fois poétique et politique où s’illustre entre autre le mythe des races. Le noos sert tout particulièrement l’autorité poétique d’Hésiode contre celle des rois et révèle une vision à part de l’intelligence. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:The Christ Who Meets Us in the Sacraments:The Influence of St. Ambrose on the tertia pars of St. Thomas's Summa theologiaeDamian Day O.P.IntroductionThe recent increased interest in St. Thomas Aquinas and the Fathers of the Church has produced a number of excellent studies of the Angelic Doctor's understanding of the authority of the Fathers and his use of them.1 In this article, I hope to contribute to the ongoing (...) study of Aquinas and the Fathers by examining how Thomas employs St. Ambrose in the tertia pars of his Summa theologiae [ST]. Thomas's use of Ambrose has received little detailed [End Page 103] attention. One of Leo Elders's last contributions to the study of Aquinas and the Fathers provided an overview of Ambrose's presence in Thomas's writings.2 I hope to expand upon Elders's work of cataloging and describing Thomas's numerous citations of Ambrose—Thomas names Ambrose over eleven hundred times in his writings3—by making a particular argument about Thomas's Christological and sacramental use of Ambrose. While Elders gives an excellent summary of where Ambrose appears in Thomas's corpus, he does not connect Thomas's use of Ambrose in his treatises on Christ and the Eucharist. I argue that Thomas's citations of Ambrose in the tertia pars help him develop an understanding of the Incarnation that supports his sacramental realism, especially emphasizing contact with Christ in the Eucharist.4Much recent reflection on the Eucharist has sought to deemphasize the substantial presence of Christ and emphasize his presence in other ways. Michael C. McGuckian, for example, argues that the Western emphasis on Christ's presence in the Blessed Sacrament has damaged the understanding of participation in the heavenly liturgy and obscured other ways in which Christ is present, such as in the bishop presiding and the proclamation of the word. He claims that "those other presences surpass the presence in the elements in their personal quality, their dynamic force and their effect on our [End Page 104] spirits and are not to be undervalued."5 Looking at Thomas and Ambrose, we will see that Christ's substantial presence in the Eucharist is preeminently personal, dynamic, and efficacious for our spirits. Colman O'Neill's masterful work of sacramental realism, Meeting Christ in the Sacraments, provides an entrée into such a study. The title derives from Ambrose. In his work A Defense of the Prophet David to Theodosius Augustus, Ambrose reflects on Psalm 51. Suddenly, in the middle of confessing his sins, David foresees the cleansing sacrament of baptism. In prophetic wonder, he cries out, "face-to-face you have shown yourself to me, Christ; I have discovered you in your sacraments."6 Even prior to their institution, David prophetically glimpses what the sacraments of the Old Law prefigure. In this vision, David sees "no longer in shadow, nor in figure, nor in type," but meets Christ in his sacraments.7 For Ambrose, the sacraments are real encounters with Christ. As O'Neill puts it, "Christ, who was worshipped from afar, comes near and touches the believer; and at his touch power goes out from him."8 For [End Page 105] Thomas, too, one meets Christ in the sacraments.9 While all the sacraments apply the merits of his Passion,10 the Eucharist is the locus par excellence for meeting Christ, since the whole Christ is there contained.11 The encounter is both personal and powerful.While the language of meeting or encountering Christ in the sacraments may seem to echo modern phenomenological philosophy, Thomas grounds the encounter in a realism of the Incarnation.12 His treatment of the encounter with Christ in the sacraments flows from his treatment of the Incarnation.13 Guy-Thomas Bedouelle summed up O'Neill's approach, which reflects Thomas's, as simply stressing, again and again, "that sacramental realism implies that the Church draws its life from the dynamism of the Incarnation itself."14 I argue that Thomas, in drawing his sacramental realism from the Incarnation, employs Ambrose as a key authority. First, I examine Thomas's knowledge and use of Ambrose's works. Second, I... (shrink)

Throughout the Works and Days (WD), Hesiod reaffirms and promotes his audience’s belief in the reality of the supernatural — that is, the gods of Olympus, whose power the poet clearly takes seriously, given the somber warnings that populate the final calendrical portion of the piece. Drawing on S.I. Johnston’s recent The Story of Myth, as well as the work of folklorists K. Hänninen and G. Bennett, I outline the techniques Hesiod employs to render believable the (...) influence of the divine in both the distant past and the contemporary period. Hesiod constructs a story world familiar to his audience in order to bolster the credibility of the supernatural events, both mythical and contemporary, that he reports. When speaking of the gods’ influence in his own time, Hesiod remains firm on the fact of the gods’ continued intervention only in concrete, mundane phenomena experienced by each of his audience members. Otherwise, the poet tends toward vague language, leaving his audience to come to their own conclusion about the influence of the divine. To encourage a positive conclusion, Hesiod creates an analogy between abstract concepts, such as Strife, and the anthropomorphic gods of myth. Using these strategies, Hesiod imbues WD with belief in divine influence in the world, past and present. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:How the Days Fit the Works in Hesiod’s Works And DaysAndré LardinoisEver since the nineteenth century, scholars have questioned the authenticity of the catalogue, at the end of Hesiod’s Works and Days, of favorable and unfavorable days (765–828; hereafter termed Days). Ul-rich von Wilamowitz–Moellendorff omitted the entire section from his 1928 edition, and Friedrich Solmsen bracketed it in the Oxford (...) Classical Text.1 Even scholars who defend the passage, Martin West for example, are willing to concede that there is a misfit; West argues that the whole poem is a compilation of loose passages, and the Days is no exception.2 I argue here for the authenticity of the Days by demonstrating the connection of that passage to the poem’s other themes. By “authentic” I mean that the same poet who composed most of lines 1–764—minor interpolations, of course, cannot be excluded—also gave the Days its present form.3 It is possible that this poet worked from one or more preexisting calendars in verse, but if so, he went out of his way to integrate [End Page 319] them into the rest of the poem.4 This must have occurred before the end of the sixth century b.c.e., when Heraclitus refers to the passage as Hesiodic.5In a celebrated article Hermann Fränkel has shown how the idea that humans are “ephemeral”—not in the modern sense of “short– lived,” but of “having to live from day to day”—pervades archaic Greek literature.6 I believe that Hesiod expresses the same thought in Works and Days, particularly through his inclusion of the calendar of good and bad days at the end of the poem. This final section on the Days is therefore crucial to our understanding of the poem. In my analysis the Days refers back to themes which are treated more fully in the earlier parts of the poem, just as these earlier parts already allude to the idea that humans have to live from day to day. In this way the various themes of the poem, as well as the cosmological spheres they represent, are interconnected. Before examining the various themes of Works and Days, however, let us review the different arguments for and against the authenticity of the Days.QUESTIONS ABOUT AUTHENTICITYAmong recent critics, Solmsen (1963) and Walter Marg (1970, 383–86) have formulated the strongest objections against the authenticity of the Days. They point to (1) the irrational beliefs expressed in the passage, which would contradict the rational outlook of Hesiod in the rest of the poem, and (2) the fact that in the rest of the poem time is not reckoned by days of the lunar month but by the movement of the sun and the constellations. They further argue that (3) the passage on the Days is hard to reconcile with some of the instructions in the part of the poem dealing with agricultural work (286–617), (4) it is inconsistent with the [End Page 320] description of Hesiod’s farm in that earlier part of the poem, (5) lacks internal coherence, and (6) does not show Hesiod’s customary style and wit.West (1978, 346–50) has responded to most of these objections. To his arguments I here add some of my own and those of other recent critics. First of all, belief in lucky and unlucky days was widespread in antiquity,7 and similar “irrational” beliefs are found not only in W&D 724–59 (which Solmsen and Marg, following Wilamowitz, therefore want to athetize as well), but also in W&D 391–92, where Perses is instructed “to strip to sow, strip to plow, and strip to reap.” West rightly suspects that the reluctance of some critics to allow for irrational or superstitious beliefs in a classical poet like Hesiod lies behind the rejection of these lines in Works and Days.8Solmsen himself expressed doubt about the significance of the fact that the Works largely measures time by the movement of the sun and the constellations (286–617), whereas the Days are arranged according to the lunar month. In the Works reference is made... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Xenophon, Oeconomicus: A Social and Historical CommentaryAlison BurfordSarah B. Pomeroy. Xenophon, Oeconomicus: A Social and Historical Commentary. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1994. xii + 388 pp. 3 pls. 1 fig. Cloth, $75.00.Xenophon has often been dismissed as a light-weight essayist of considerable charm but limited analytical capacity. His dialogue, Oeconomicus, tends to be perceived primarily as a ragbag for social historians in pursuit of a reference. (...) Both deserve better, and this Sarah Pomeroy’s new commentary now provides. As its full title promises, it constitutes an invaluable supplement both to the study of Xenophon and to ancient social history. Discussion is well informed throughout, and many fundamental questions arise for consideration regarding modern perceptions of the ancient economy, Xenophon’s own economic viewpoint, and the true nature of the dialogue. The introduction, while inevitably addressing all the familiar topics, stands on the far less familiar premise that Xenophon pursues a coherent, consistent, and in some ways quite radical agenda, and that what has been widely regarded as episodic or anecdotal in nature is a unity in style and argument (5ff. and 14–20). Oeconomicus is for P. a combination of philosophical dialogue and agricultural treatise (263). The central theme, therefore, remains the obvious topic of household and estate management, with this difference that Xenophon intends an analysis of the domestic economy—its nature and what makes it tick, not a mere exposition of “how to run” a marriage, a house, and an estate—as his own dismissive remarks on manual-writers (xvi.1), and the sharp Socratic character of the dialogue might suggest. But the complex literary style and the telling dramatic character of the dialogue, of which her comments make us aware, are such as to suggest that Xenophon’s argument is even more authoritative than she allows.Amidst the commentary’s great wealth is the discussion of Ischomachus’ role. How historical a figure is he? P. gives a succinct account of the matter (259–64), and deals with Xenophon’s use of humor which has been variously interpreted. Some see the portrayal of Ischomachus’ marriage as a satirical joke against the historical figure, but P. while allowing for humor within the conversation between husband and wife considers that Xenophon’s overall intention is [End Page 492] serious, if not necessarily factual, and the ideal marriage is integral to the idealisation of the past which is part of the overall design. P. points out that the dramatic date of the dialogue is fixed very imprecisely within the later fifth century (18f.). At the same time Xenophon moves between past and present from the good old days to the less glorious now when, P. and others have argued, Athenian society had been irrevocably altered by the effects of the Peloponnesian War (47). She observes (31) that institutions may only elicit overt comment on the inception of their decline, so that Xenophon can be understood as recording the fading-away of traditional mores in marriage and the self-sufficiency of the household. Yet the existence of a written account need only signify a new interest within narrow literary circles in certain subjects—power-politics surely outlasted Thucydides’ time.Is it a problem that Xenophon appears both as a conservative traditionalist and as an analytical observer of Athenian society and domestic economy in its present state? We may simply regard the apparent contradiction as intentional on Xenophon’s part in this multifaceted and many-layered work, as P. does, or we can make additional assumptions. One might be that the war’s effects were less severe than P. supposes, and that Xenophon is both responding to a need to reenforce traditional values, rather than to recommend them to an age which has lost them, and commenting on the enduring good practices which have always produced beneficial results. Another might be that Xenophon certainly is playing many games here, the most complex of which is to refer to his real concerns by analogy, and that what seems to be the big picture (the domestic economy) is only the reflection. He does indeed idealise the past, as P. points out, particularly in his Persian section (iv, her commentary on... (shrink)

On p. 118 I said that the injunction of Pythagoras παρà θνσíαν μxs22EF xs22EFννχíζον, quoted by Goettling with a false reference, might be illuminating in its context but that I suspected it of being a figment. My suspicions were unfounded. The reference, as Mr. A. B. Cook has kindly pointed out to me, is Iambl. Protrept. 364 K.; but Iamblichus's explanation—that ‘nails’ stands for one's remoter kinsfolk, οíον xs22EFνεψιáδαι xs22EF πατραδxs22EFλφων γαμβρονοτιδεîς xs22EF τοιοντοí τινες, with whom one should renew relations (...) on festal days—does not seem very helpful. (shrink)

In Science and Religious Anthropology: A Spiritually Evocative Naturalist Interpretation of Human Life, Wesley J. Wildman has awakened work in religious anthropology to a new day and a new kind of light. No one who works in religious anthropology, or in religion and science studies more generally, should be taken seriously who has not read, digested, and contended with Wildman’s work. Indeed, if one is looking for an education in genuine interdisciplinarity, in rigorous scholarly analysis and argumentation, and (...) in the ways in which academic theology, religious studies, and the scientific study of religion can mutually inform one another, Wildman’s book is the ideal school. Wildman carefully analyzes, creatively .. (shrink)

The relation between the opening section of Plato’s Laws and Xenophon’s Constitution of the Lacedaemonians usually goes unnoticed. This paper draws attention to its importance for understanding Plato’s project in the dialogue. It has three sections. In the first, it will be shown that the view proposed by Plato’s Athenian visitor that Lycurgus made virtue in its entirety the goal of his statecraft was anticipated in Xenophon’s treatise. It has to be treated as an interpretation of the Spartan politeia, alternative (...) to that advanced by Cleinias and Megillus, and accepted by Aristotle, which Plato could expect or at any rate hope to be taken seriously as such. In the second, the argument will focus on the contents of the legislative programme the Athenian says he had hoped to hear Cleinias ascribe to the Cretan and Spartan lawgivers. The case will be made that Plato can expect recognition by the reader that the programme is properly Spartan and Cretan by virtue of its echoes of the programme attributed to Lycurgus by Xenophon. Finally, the third section will argue that in making law primarily concerned with fostering the proper development, conduct, and treatment of human beings at every stage of the life cycle, above all by provision for sound customary practices and the like, Plato adopts the approach to law making taken by Xenophon’s Lycurgus. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:The Task of Criticism: Essays on Philosophy, History, and Community, and: The Active Life: Miller's Metaphysics of DemocracyShannon KincaidJoseph P. Fell, Vincent Colapietro, and Michael J. McGandy, editors The Task of Criticism: Essays on Philosophy, History, and CommunityNew York: W. W. Norton, 2005. 366 pp.Michael J. McGandy The Active Life: Miller's Metaphysics of Democracy Albany: State University of New York Press, 2005. 231 pp.I must admit (...) that my first encounter with the philosophy of John William Miller was not a pretty one. I first read of him in these pages a decade or so ago, and even though I was thinking a lot about pragmatism and democratic theory, and shared many of his interests, I didn't much like his philosophy. While I liked his style, the vocabulary seemed awkward. His finite idealism confused me. I had problems with his ontology, and his tendency towards historicism seemed odd. I even wrote an essay critical of The Midworld (New York: W. W. Norton, 1982), though I never made an aggressive effort to publish it. [End Page 289]This is a good thing, because I would have regretted publishing that essay. I say this because both Michael J. McGandy's The Active Life: Miller's Metaphysics of Democracy, and the new edited collection of Miller's writings entitled The Task of Criticism, do an excellent job of revealing the contemporary significance of Miller's work. Collectively, they have convinced this skeptic that the midworld and its ontology of functioning objects are an important contribution to contemporary American philosophy.The Task of Criticism faces several challenges. First, George P. Brockway supervised the publication of five volumes of Miller's collected works, and Fell himself edited a 1990 volume on Miller's philosophy (The Philosophy of John William Miller, Lewisburg: Bucknell University Press), followed by Stephen Tyman's Decrying the Ideal (Carbondale: Southern Illinois University Press, 1993). Colapietro published Fateful Shapes of Human Freedom: John William Miller and the Crises of Modernity (Nashville: Vanderbilt University Press) in 2003. Do we really need another volume? Second, Miller's brand of idealism is not very fashionable these days. Is there any hope that pragmatic idealism can inform contemporary social theory, and make a contribution to the very real and concrete problems faced by modern democratic institutions?I believe that the answer to both of these questions is "yes." Recognizing the importance of previous volumes devoted to Miller's philosophy, the editors present The Task of Criticism as the first comprehensive introduction to Miller's philosophy, and it attempts to cut a middle ground between a complete collection of essays and a "best of" anthology. The editors want to provide a framework for understanding Miller's philosophy, and in this attempt they succeed admirably.Why? Because the editors have provided a structure for Miller's thought that was lacking in earlier collections, and by focusing on the issues of philosophical method, historiography, and community, they have provided a framework for understanding Miller's philosophy. In so doing, they have also firmly established the continuing relevance of Miller's work. The recent revival of pragmatic idealism (as evidenced by a recent surge in publications on idealists like Royce and Hocking) is an important development in contemporary American philosophy, and I think Miller deserves a significant role in this movement.One of the things I like about this collection is its presentation as a work of three generations of Miller's students, all indebted to the work of Brockway, and all dedicated to the task of demonstrating the fundamental importance of Miller's work. The text itself not only includes a variety of Miller's writing on a wide range of topics, but also a very effective introduction to Miller's philosophy, short introductory passages for each essay, and a comprehensive index, as well as a bibliography of works by and about Miller. This is, in short, the first textbook of Miller's philosophy, and it does a fine job of capturing the breadth and depth of his philosophy.The scope of Miller's philosophical interests is made even more remarkable by the fact that Miller himself showed little interest... (shrink)

This paper discusses an important phase in Ludwig Wittgenstein’s analytic philosophy through a comparative examination of the profound correspondences that exist between his concept of silence and the poetics of another crucial authorial figure of the 20th century: James Joyce. Based on the hypothesis that there are striking resemblances between their early works, that is, between Joyce’s realistic short-story collection Dubliners and Wittgenstein’s Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus, the article employs mostly close-reading, analytical-interpretative and comparative methods. It argues that silence was an (...) intentional intellectual, aesthetic and ethical choice of both these authors, their way to preserve the autonomy of metaphysics and to honour the beauty of the unspoken. Starting from their common critical treatment of the habitual and largely alienated speech, the discussion connects Wittgenstein’s philosophical attitudes regarding the imprecision and inadequacy of every-day language and Joyce’s notion of ‘spiritual paralysis’ of the city-life, which he saw as the main motive for writing his collection about fin-desiècle Dublin. On the grounds of their shared views about the limits of words, behind which there are worlds that cannot be properly uttered, the idea of silence – or the highly significant narrative absence – grows to permeate the work of both. In the case of Wittgenstein, it is a call for a new philosophy, or anti-philosophy, which in negating metaphysics in effect preserves its independence from a discursive speech which cannot express it, whereas in the case of Joyce, correspondingly (and almost simultaneously), it is a quest for a new literary mode that will foreground a particular Modernist allusiveness, rhetoric of omission and deliberately incomplete, gnomonical narrative structures. (shrink)

The articles analyzes the original concept of immortality, presented by F.M. Dostoevsky in a handwritten sketch written on April 16, 1864, the day after the death of the writer’s first wife. The authors argue that this concept was created under the influence of the ideas of German romantic natural philosophy, in particular G.T. Fechner’s work of The Book of Life After Death (1836). According to the pantheistic ideas of Dostoevsky and Fechner, every person after death continues to exist in (...) the earthly world. Having lost a limited biological body in death, a person can get a more extensive “cosmic” body, covering significant areas of the material universe. His personal spirit continues to exist in mankind, and the degree of his influence depends on what kind of spiritual success he achieved during his lifetime. In the concept of Fechner and Dostoevsky, posthumous life can be very different: great personalities (Goethe, Shakespeare, Napoleon, etc.) acquire an even more significant being than during life, and they continue to influence humankind, which, developing in history, strives for an absolute “synthesis” -the merger of all people into an organic whole and at the same time the merger with the universe. Individuals who, during their lifetime, confined themselves to their selfish interests can even disappear. In this concept, God is defined as “universal Synthesis,” i.e., the goal of the world process and the final merging of everything with everything. Jesus Christ is understood as an absolute, perfect man who, after death, does not resurrect in his previous bodily form, but completely dissolves in humankind and acts as a force guiding it toward unity and synthesis with the material world. (shrink)

There have been many famine incidents in the human history. Some of these have resulted in the disaster of the people. Muslims have also suffered from these famines. There have been countless famine examples from the time of the Prophet. One of the most significant of these famines is the famine incident that was effective in Madinah and its surroundings during the khalīfat of Umar bin al-Hattab (d. 23/644). This famine, corresponding to the 6th year of the khalīfat of Umar, (...) had negative consequences. In this period when the rains were not falling and the soil almost turned to ash, creatures were harmed, and some deaths occurred. When the opportunities in the city were insufficient to eliminate the shortage, the khalif asked for help from the surrounding provinces. The coming help eased the situation for the people. In this famine year, which is known as the Remade year, Umar did not collect zakat from the public, nor applied a sentence to theft in this period. Umar did everything in his power but as the effects of the famine did not lessen, Umar went to the rain prayer for the drought to disappear. When the rain came, life took its normal course and the people who came to Madinah from the rural parts due to the famine were sent back home by the khalīfa.Summary: There have been famine incidences in different geographies throughout human history. The Hejaz region in Saudi Arabia was also affected by these natural disasters. Mecca, which has a particularly dry climate, has witnessed countless famines from pre-Islamic times to the present day. Madinah, which became a center of attraction with the Prophet's migration, struggled with famines in the times of the Prophet as well as in later periods. Among these famines, the famine experienced during the khalīfat of Umar had considerably heavy consequences.The year of the famine in Madinah was recorded as Amurremade, which means the year was given that name because there was no rain at all, and the soil turned int the color of ash and was swept easily by the wind. The famine, which began in the late 17th year of the Hejira and continued until the beginning of the 18th year, lasted approximately nine months. During this time, the soil dried up, the crops did not grow green and the animals perished. The public was exposed to starvation and misery and had nothing in their hands. The bazaars and markets got empty, there was nothing left to buy and sell. People dug in the ground to find food and ate the lizards and moles they found.The famine had an harder impact on the rural areas of Madinah. Those living in the desert had to take refuge in Madinah when they could not find anything to eat. The severe drought even caused deaths in some tribes. The survivors had to eat whatever they could to stay alive. The animals they butchered had no meat, too. Thus, people removed the skins of dead animals and cooked them and gnawed on them or broke the bones of dead animals and ate the crumbs.When the famine continued for a long time, the living conditions of many people changed. Khalif Umar took some precautions to overcome the troubles of the people. First, he gave the food in the central treasury (Beytulmal) in Madinah to the service of those who suffered from famine. When the food in the Beytulmal did not suffice, he called for his governors to send aid to Madinah and its surroundings. The call was answered. Abundant aid was sent to Madinah from Damascus, Kufah, Basra, Egypt and Yemen. Thanks to the help sent, people were relieved. The aid sent from the provinces was planned to be distributed equally to both the people of Madinah and the people who came from outside and settled around Madinah. For this, Umar tried to determine the number of people in need by assigning some people. After the number of people was determined, he prepared a list showing the names and needs of those who suffered from famine. Documents bearing the seal of Umar were given to the public so that they could buy food. The aid also helped to decrease the prices. Because the prices of almost everything, particularly the basic necessities, had reached very high levels.Khalif Umar thanks to donations supported by governors founded also flour silos for those in need. Those who came to Madinah got food such as flour, bread, dates, grapes etc. In addition, some days, twenty camels were butchered and those who suffered from the famine were invited to get hot meals. For those who could not come, food was sent. This practice was continued regularly every month until the famine ended. When Umar could not find anything to distribute, he designated one family that had food to host another family that could not find food. After the rains started, the Khalif sent the Arabs, who came to Madinah in time of the famine back to their countries. He also funded them form treasury so that they could reach their homes comfortably. The Arab tribes were delighted and thanked for the good treatment Umar showed during the famine.Umar did not collect zakah from the goods during the drought period. However, when famine weakened, he took the zakat of two years together. In the same way, he did not apply the punishment to those who fed themselves illegally because of necessity.Umar worked hard to resolve the people's hardship and took all precautions in the famine period. However, the famine maintained its hard impact. Therefore, Umar decided to go for rain prayer and asked his governors to go to rain prayer, too. When people learned that Umar would pray for the rain, they all joined him. Caliph Umar, taking Abbas with him, wished forgiveness from Allah. The prayers were accepted and plenty of rain came down in and around Madinah. So, the famine came to an end and the people took a breath.Umar, the ruler of the Muslims, did not eat anything different from the people during the famine and sometimes was in a worse situation than the others. Many times, he preferred the benefit of others until the famine ended. For this, he was often hungry. This seriously threatened the Caliph Umar's health. These conditions were not limited to the caliph's person but also affected his family. Because Umar’s family members lived in more misery than other families. The conditions continued in this way until the famine lost its effect. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:72 Reviews RUSSELL VERSUS THE HAPPINESS INDUSTRY Chad Trainer 1006 Davids Run Phoenixville, pa 19460, usa [email protected] Tim Phillips. Bertrand Russell’sThe Conquest of Happiness; a Modern-Day Interpretation of a Self-Help Classic. Oxford: Infinite Ideas, 2010. Pp. 118. 978-1906821 -27-2 (pb). us$11.95. German translation as Bertrand Russells Eroberung des Glücks in a “Business Classics” series (gabal Verlag, 2012). he popular writing Bertrand Russell undertook to make money has long roused (...) the indignation of those interested in his more technical specialized work, and his 1930 The Conquest of Happiness ranks among the more extreme examples of this pot-boiling genre. Ludwig Wittgenstein denounced Russell’s Conquest of Happiness as a “vomitive.” And the best ways of understanding Russell’s own assessments of his book are unclear, owing to the various sentiments his biographers report. According to Ronald Clark, he said: “… The Conquest of Happiness … I am not very proud of”;1 whereas Caroline Moorehead reports “he was later to say that, of all his books, he felt this had done the most good”.2 In his autobiography, Russell allows us how he wrote The Conquest of Happiness at a stage in his life “when I needed much self-command and much that I had learned by painful experience if I was to maintain any endurable level of happiness.”The emotional challenges to which he was subjected at the time he wrote the book “introduced an intolerable tension into every moment of daily life.” Beacon Hill School, which Russell had started with his second wife, Dora, in 1927, was in such dire straits financially by 1930 that Russell was compelled to resort to much popular writing and lecturing in order to remain solvent. In 1930, Dora gave birth to a daughter fathered by the American journalist Grif- fin Barry.This marked the beginning of the end to Russell’s marriage to Dora. Add to the foregoing Russell’s strained relations with Wittgenstein, when the ______ 1 The Life of Bertrand Russell, p. 448. 2 Bertrand Russell, p. 383. q= Reviews 73 former was asked to be one of the examiners for Wittgenstein’s phd at Cambridge. Although the phd was awarded and Wittgenstein secured a grant to conduct research at Trinity College, Cambridge for five years, Russell and Wittgenstein’s interaction at the time resulted in an end to their friendship. In general, however much control Russell may have had over matters at earlier points in his life, 1930 was a time he was largely at the mercy of unstable circumstances.The repose and leisure on which he had depended for his philosophic activity were not then available to him. Personal problems came to the fore and he was more prone to depression than usual. About The Conquest of Happiness, written primarily with the American market in mind, he remarked to the publisher Stanley Unwin: “I think they [Americans] mostly share Al Capone’s ideas of happiness, which are in a somewhat different vein from mine.”The book became a bestseller in America. Tim Phillips writes on business, technology, social change and innovation, and he has published more than a dozen expositions of other famous authors’ works. His book Bertrand Russell’s The Conquest of Happiness is a faithful tour through this Russell classic. Phillips provides a readable account of the original ’s lucid points. The treatment is certainly not pretentious or obfuscatory, as it abounds with examples of Russell’s points from contemporary pop culture. It features corroborating quotations from other authors and is salted with some results of modern surveys. Bertrand Russell’s The Conquest of Happiness has good reminders of the differences between the nature of Russell’s times and lifestyle and that of our own, the most notable being the absence during Russell’s day of a happiness industry. Nowadays, we are bombarded with “self-help” books “encouraging us to obsess about ourselves or manipulate others” (p. 9). Moreover, when Russell wrote The Conquest of Happiness, “the idea of an antidepressant pill was as likely as someone walking on the moon and the idea that people could ‘suffer from stress’ was thirty years into the future. For all... (shrink)

In Vietnam, patriotism is the highest value in the nation's spiritual value system. Patriotic feelings were formed from the very beginning of the founding of the country and continue to grow strongly to this day. It soon became the reason for life, the ideal, and the belief in the spiritual life of the Vietnamese people. The purpose of this paper is to provide a comprehensive and in-depth view of patriotism as a specific philosophy of the Vietnamese nation. To (...) that end, the paper focuses on analyzing what patriotism is and its expressions. It discusses the basic tenets of Vietnamese patriotism: the spirit of independence, self-reliance, the sense of national self-reliance, solidarity in national construction and defense and a humanistic spirit. The paper thus highlights the peculiarities of the patriotic philosophy of the Vietnamese nation and how it manifests in the rural villages. (shrink)

According to Xenophon, Socrates tried to persuade his associate Aristippus to moderate his excessive indulgence in wine, women, and food, arguing that only hard work can bring happiness. Aristippus wasn’t convinced. Instead, he and his followers espoused the most radical form of hedonism in ancient Western philosophy. Before the rise of the better known but comparatively ascetic Epicureans, the Cyrenaics pursued a way of life in which moments of pleasure, particularly bodily pleasure, held the highest value. In The Birth (...) of Hedonism, Kurt Lampe provides the most comprehensive account in any language of Cyrenaic ideas and behavior, revolutionizing the understanding of this neglected but important school of philosophy. -/- The Birth of Hedonism thoroughly and sympathetically reconstructs the doctrines and practices of the Cyrenaics, who were active between the fourth and third centuries BCE. The book examines not only Aristippus and the mainstream Cyrenaics, but also Hegesias, Anniceris, and Theodorus. Contrary to recent scholarship, the book shows that the Cyrenaics, despite giving primary value to discrete pleasurable experiences, accepted the dominant Greek philosophical belief that life-long happiness and the virtues that sustain it are the principal concerns of ethics. The book also offers the first in-depth effort to understand Theodorus’s atheism and Hegesias’s pessimism, both of which are extremely unusual in ancient Greek philosophy and which raise the interesting question of hedonism’s relationship to pessimism and atheism. Finally, the book explores the “new Cyrenaicism” of the nineteenth-century writer and classicist Walter Pater, who drew out the enduring philosophical interest of Cyrenaic hedonism more than any other modern thinker. (shrink)

While most scholarship in religious studies focuses on the past and present, the study of what the future may hold in store for religion deserves attention. Studying the treatment of religious themes and characters in science fiction provides one way of accomplishing this objective. From the possibility of time travel to key events in the history of religion, to the possibility of acquiring godlike attributes by technological or other futuristic means, science fiction regularly touches on topics such as the nature (...) and universality of truth or the nature of personhood and of divinity in ways that can be deeply theological, even if the authors of the tales are not theologians or even religiously inclined. In stories about contact with extraterrestrial sentient life forms, sci-fi tales can explore questions about diversity in the values and ideas we hold, but on a much larger scale than that provided by our own planet. Yet these stories reflect the convictions and concerns human beings currently have about our ability to understand one another and our sometimes seemingly incommensurable commitments. Such stories provide natural conversation partners for present-day religious communities. The study of such literature and film provides insight into how major conceptual and ethical questions are being explored and wrestled with even today. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:TROELTSCH'S TREATMENT OF THE THOMIST SYNTHESIS IN THE SOCIAL TEACHING AS A SIGNAL OF HIS VIEW OF A NEW CULTURAL SYNTHESIS * WENDELL s. DIETRICH Brown University Providence, Rhode Island WITH RESPECT TO the new Western cultural synthesis he envisages in the final phase of his authorship, Ernst Troeltsch counts the medieval Thomist synthesis both as a formal model and a source of content. That is the principal contention (...) of this essay. Or to look at the matter from the perspective of successive phases of Troeltsch's authorship, Troeltsch 's treatment of the Thomist synthesis in The Social Teaching of the Christian Churches 1 provides a signal of his subsequent view of a new cultural synthesis. In arguing that case, I propose to focus first on Troeltsch's exposition of the Thomist synthesis in The Social Teaching, taking into account as well that running commentary which Troeltsch simultaneously presents on the magisterially sponsored repristination of the Thomist synthesis in late nineteenth century neoThomism. That task completed, I will lay out briefly my under- *An earlier version of this paper was contributed as a presentation at the Nineteenth Century Theology Working Group, AAR Annual Meeting, 1991. I would also like to express my gratitude to the participants in my Brown University graduate seminar on Troeltsch's The Social Teaching, 1989-90: Vaughn Allen, David Aune, James Gubbins, Mark Hadley, and Richard Wright. They aided me immeasurably in clarifying my mind. 1 Ernst Troeltsch, Die Soziallehren der christlichen Kirchen und Gruppen, Gesammelte Schriften Band 1 (Scientia Verlag Aalen, 1965). Hereafter cited as Die Soziallehren. Ernst Troeltsch, The Social Teaching of the Christian Churches, trans. Olive Wyon, 2 vols. (London: George Allen and Unwin, 1931). Hereafter cited as The Social Teaching. 381 382 WENDELL S. DIETRICH standing of Troeltsch's conception of a new contemporary cultural synthesis, especially the version of that conception worked out in Der Historismus und seine Probleme.2 Furnished with this grasp of what Troeltsch means by a new cultural synthesis, I will assay an appraisal of how the treatment of the Thomist synthesis in The Social Teaching is a signal of things to come and an appraisal of the limited but genuine ways in which Troeltsch counts classic Thomism and neo-Thomism as formal model and source of content for his new cultural synthesis. But before the main thesis can be plausibly defended a major objection must be dealt with head on. On the face of it, it is highly improbable that Troeltsch should count the medieval Thomist synthesis as either a formal model or a source of content for a present-day Western cultural synthesis. After all, the medieval cultural synthesis articulated conceptually by Thomas is the culmination and classic statement of the " unitary conception of truth ", a conception Troeltsch repudiates in the name of modern historical consciousness and the awareness of a plurality of truths. On behalf of the Western medieval church, Thomas asserts that Christian truth is unitary, that the magisterium authoritatively teaches it, and that the truths of reason and revelation are one in a hierarchically ordered synthesis. Troeltsch rejects such claims. A comparable issue is at stake in the case of Troeltsch's appraisal of the magisterially sponsored revival of neo-Thomism in the nineteenth century. Troeltsch is very much aware of the disputes between the neo-Thomists and the Roman Catholic Modernists. He is positively attracted to the work of Alfred Loisy as a major representative of the Modernists and registers substantial agreement between Loisy and himself in their common espousal of "the modern historical conception of truth ".8 2 Ernst Troeltsch, Der Historismus und seine Probleme, Gesmnmelte Schriften, Band 3 (Scientia Verlag Aalen, 1961). Hereinafter cited as Der Historismus. 3 For a detailed analysis of Troeltsch's appraisal of the dispute between Loisy and Harnack over the "essence of Christianity", see Wendell S. Dietrich, "Loisy and the Liberal Protestants," Studies in Religion/Sciences Religieuses 14 (1985) : 303-311. TREATMENT (ff THE THOMIST SYNTHESIS 383 I. Troeltsch on the Thomist synthesis But despite rejection of a unitary conception of truth, Troeltsch does count the medieval Thomist synthesis both as a formal model and as a source of content for a contemporary cultural... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Journal of the History of Ideas 61.1 (2000) 115-132 [Access article in PDF] Schiller's Theory of Landscape Depiction Jason Gaiger This paper offers a critical discussion of the theory of landscape depiction which Friedrich Schiller developed in an important but neglected article on the work of Friedrich Matthisson, published in 1794. 1 The question of the value and status of landscape painting and poetry was far from settled at (...) the end of the eighteenth century, and Schiller's essay should be seen as making an important contribution to an ongoing debate. 2 The second half of the eighteenth century is marked by a profound ambivalence towards the natural world. On the one hand there is a remarkable "rediscovery" of nature, evidenced in such diverse but related phenomena as the vogue for English gardens and the appreciation of wild and "untamed places," such as the Alps and the Herz mountains. It is also the age of "sentiment," embracing a heightened sensitivity to all aspects of the physical world. And yet when we turn to the visual arts, we find landscape painting ranked far below history painting and portraiture. Precedence is given to the representation of human actions and emotions, and the depiction of the human figure remains the highest goal of ambitious art.The modern hierarchy of the genres was first established on a firm theoretical and practical basis with the founding of the French Royal Academy in the seventeenth century. The painter of living animals is ranked higher than the [End Page 115] painter of inanimate nature who depicts "choses mortes et sans mouvement." 3 The painter of human subjects, who imitates "the most perfect work of God," stands higher still. The highest achievement to which the artist can aspire, however, is history painting, the depiction of groups of figures in themes derived from biblical and mythical sources. To achieve this, the artist cannot depict what he sees but must employ both knowledge and imagination. The fundamental opposition here is between painting as a merely imitative or mechanical art, which is addressed to the eye alone, and painting as a work of "invention" or "imagination," which is addressed to the mind. Only the latter constitutes a properly liberal art, entitling the painter to stand alongside the poet as "un auteur ingénieux et savant" over and above the mere artisan or skilled laborer.The great popularity enjoyed by landscape painting in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries was not met by any comparable elevation in its status as a fine art. Addressing students of the Royal Academy in London in 1770, Joshua Reynolds could continue to dismiss landscape and still-life as the "meaner walks of painting" which require only "mechanical" expertise. 4 For Reynolds the status of painting as a fine art is established through its treatment of the great subjects of history painting, that is, the depiction of human passions and the intellect. Only in tackling such themes does the artist succeed in addressing the imagination, which Reynolds describes as the "great end of art." 5 Although of comparatively recent origin, the genre of "landscape poetry" remained equally problematic and could not easily be reconciled with classicist ideals. New categories seemed to be required to comprehend the work of poets such as Albrecht von Haller and James Thomson, in which the varied and ever-changing aspects of the natural landscape were made the central protagonists of the poetic drama. While traditional forms such as the bucolic, the Arcadian, and the pastoral allowed the depiction of rural existence, the new "descriptive poetry" sought to celebrate the life of nature independently of man's intervening presence: it is nature itself rather than man's relation to nature which is made the poet's primary concern.Schiller's review of the third, expanded edition of Matthisson's poetry appeared in two parts in the Jenaer Allgemeine Literatur-Zeitung, 11-12 September 1794. While the second half of the review is given over to a detailed discussion of Matthisson's poetry, the first part is reserved for an extended theoretical discussion in which Schiller... (shrink)

Xenophon’s Oeconomicusincludes an interesting treatise on married life, at the hearth of which is the figure of Ischomachus’ wife, such as she is described by Ischomachus’ words to Socrates. It is an almost innovative figure, because she shares the management of the oikosas being responsible for what is carried out within the oikos: her role is different from her husband’s, who runs and manages what is carried out outside of the oikos. Therefore husband’s and wife’s tasks are different, though (...) complementary. The difference in inclinations and, therefore, roles is shown as established by god, nature and custom. So Ischomachus’ wife is a collaborator and companion of her husband, even though she does not have an equal relation with her him: she manages the activities and people within the oikosaccording to her husband’s directives. Also in the sphere of sexual life she has to conform to his desires and convictions; her own status as a wife will be preserved only if she meets his expectations: paradoxically her own autonomy is other-directed. Even if she may be considered a “maîtresse de la maison”, nevertheless, as Foucault outlined with a very incisive expression, she is anyway the “maîtresse obéissante de la maison”. (shrink)

The last decades have shown that Nicander'sTheriaca(second centuryb.c.e.), a didactic hexameter poem of 958 lines on snakes, scorpions, spiders, and the proper treatment of the wounds they inflict, is a markedly more playful work than most readers thought. Rather than considering the poem as a vehicle of authentic learning, literary approaches to the nature of Nicander's strange poetic world have focussed on his eye for Alexandrian aesthetics, intertextuality, linguistic innovation, and awareness of the didactic tradition that started with Hesiod'sWorks (...) and Days, but also on his predilection for horror, voyeuristic sensationalism, and gory details. Although literary-minded readers have found it hard to disprove convincingly that Nicander may have hadsomeprofessional knowledge of his subject matter, a glance at his arcane language is enough to convince any reader that theTheriacacannot be concernedsolelywith its explicit subject. In this article I will make some additional observations on the way in which Nicander has turned theTheriacainto a work of literature, focussing on some of the choices that he has made with regard to his less than veracious depiction of snakes and animals. While Spatafora rightly points to Nicander's eye for detail when portraying floral beauty, I will argue that the poet's play with thetoposof thelocus amoenushas a darker side. Rather than creating an epic world of beauty, Nicander shows his talent for taking the reader along an unpleasant path of apprehension and negative feelings, portraying a choice selection of afflictions. Not only does he have many ways of giving his quasi-scientific account a markedly negative atmosphere, but his world may well be a deliberate reversal of that other well-known Hellenistic portrayal of the natural world, Theocritus' bucolics. (shrink)

In the ideology of capitalism, problems of standard of living and consumption are treated in isolation from the content of social relationships. An example of this is provided by the works of Galbraith, who speaks of the "affluent society," defined by the level and volume of consumption, as a higher level of social development. His interpretation - and it is shared by many bourgeois ideologists - does not deal with the question of on what the achievement of an abundance (...) of various goods and services, and hence abundance in consumption, is based. Left out of consideration is the fact that it is because of particular historical conditions that the capitalist states of our day have at their disposal a developed base in technology, while such a base is lacking over most of the globe, inasmuch as its creation is an as-yet uncompleted task in the so-called developing countries. If we were to judge the essence of social development without considering the concrete class structure of society and the vagaries of historical development, without analyzing the existing base in technology and science, etc., we would be unable to go beyond the bounds of very vague abstractions. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:The National Commission on AIDSDonald S. Goldman (bio) and Jeff Stryker (bio)A decade after the first cases were recognized in the United States, AIDS continues to vex policymakers and fascinate the public. It has been said that AIDS acts as a prism, refracting a spectrum of controversial topics. For bioethicists, these topics include: equity in the allocation of resources for treatment and research; forgoing life-sustaining care and proxy (...) decision making; informed consent in the context of HIV testing and screening; the ethical duties of health care workers to provide care for persons with HIV disease; and competing obligations of health care professionals to patients and to third parties who may be put at risk.The Role of CommissionsIf AIDS is the quintessential case study for bioethicists, it is a potential quagmire for politicians. The association of HIV disease with drug use and sexual behavior makes it a topic that all but the most courageous (or the most homophobic) politicians shy away from. A frequent political response is to form a commission.Alexander Capron, who was executive director of the President's Commission for the Study of Ethical Problems in Medicine, has described some roles commissions play: a watchdog, overseeing the work of particular government agencies; a crucible, providing a means for "publicly hammering out conclusions on controversial issues when consensus, both in the public and in the relevant disciplines, is not yet apparent"; and "a lightning rod for public concern—or viewed less charitably, dumping ground for an issue that is too difficult for the ordinary political process to handle" (Capron 1983, p. 9).Nearly every state has created a gubernatorial-level task force or commission on AIDS. The National Commission on AIDS was established under the Health Omnibus Program Extension (HOPE) Act of 1988, which was signed by President Reagan on November 4, 1988. The official charter of the commission was approved August 2, 1989 and its original two-year term was extended for a third year. The mission statement crafted by the commission to reflect its Congressional mandate reads: [End Page 339]The National Commission on Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome is an independent body of 15 members created to advise the President and Congress. The Commission seeks to build a broad public understanding on the magnitude, scope and urgency of the HIV/AIDS epidemic; provide and inspire leadership at all levels of both the public and private sectors; empower individuals and communities; and advocate for effective, cooperative and non-discriminatory resources required for prevention, comprehensive care, and the research necessary to halt the epidemic.As the mission statement implies, the National Commission on AIDS has viewed itself from the outset not only as a crucible for policy analysis, but also as a forum for those affected by HIV disease. In site visits and hearings the commissioners have met with hundreds of people living with HIV disease, and with caregivers on the front lines. This odyssey has taken the commission on visits to homeless shelters in New York City; to "shooting galleries" where intravenous drug users congregate in Seattle; to Native American communities in four states; to private homes in rural Georgia; and to hospitals, HIV antibody testing centers, drug treatment clinics, and hemophilia treatment centers throughout the nation. It quickly became clear during the commission's travels that HIV disease cannot be understood outside the context of the racism, homophobia, poverty and unemployment that provide the medium that fosters its spread. It also became apparent that issues of HIV prevention, care and treatment, and clinical research are inextricably intertwined and must be dealt with as such.Early InitiativesUnder the leadership of Chairperson June Osborn and Vice-chairperson David Rogers, the commission decided that the problems it saw in its first few meetings were too urgent to await a full-length annual report. Hence the commission entered the fray with a series of brief interim reports on particular aspects of AIDS. These reports enabled the commission to draw attention to urgent problems of limitations in access to health care and to underscore the plight of people with HIV disease who might otherwise garner little media attention, such as prisoners and drug users (National Commission... (shrink)

The modern tendency to treat all Greek Golden Age textuality as apolitical and escapist has contributed to the ongoing neglect of the first Western educational text, Hesiod's Works and days. Most commentators have missed the interplay of utopian and dystopian images in Hesiodic poetry for lack of the appropriate conceptual framework. Once the escapist prejudice is overcome, the Hesiodic text appears as the first extant Occidental coupling of political utopianism with emancipatory ethico-political education. Once freed of its (...) dated metaphysical-theological resonances, Hesiodic utopianism is compatible with a renewed political and ethical education for cosmopolitanism and justice because the embarrassingly detailed and teleological element of temporal modern utopias and the equally embarrassing rigid architecture of spatial utopias are absent. There is no strict utopian prediction and the message for change is articulated for the whole of humanity. (shrink)

This article examines the ambivalent treatment of Hesiod in Plutarch’s Symposium of the Seven Sages. A close examination of the relevant passages (153E–154C, 156D–E, 157E–158B) demonstrates that, while Hesiod’s authority, poetry, and wisdom are acknowledged, they are nonetheless marginalized and deemed of limited importance for the intellectual life of the Sages. The figure of Hesiod thus facilitates the self-definition of the Sages and their circle as an intellectual elite, a group that has appropriated and surpassed the (...) great authoritative figures of the past in its pursuits and accomplishments. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:BOOK REVIEWS 387 and contributed an important and helpful study. This dissertation is a model of its kind. One hopes the author will continue his scholarly efforts. The Catholic University of America Washington, D.C. WILLIAM E. MAY John Henry Newman: A Biography. By IAN KER. New York: Oxford University Press, 1990. Pp. xii + 764. $24.95 (paper). The Achievement of John Henry Newman. By IAN KER. Notre Dame: University (...) of Notre Dame Press, 1990. Pp. x + 209. $24.95 (cloth). Ian Ker has inherited the mantle of the late Charles Stephen Dessain as the finest textual expositor of the Newman corpus, and Ker's biography should become a standard reference tool in the field. Ker ap· prenticed under Dessain in the production of the monumental (31volume ) Letters and Diaries, and his biography shows his command of the materials of that as yet unfinished project. Ker's hook joins the biographies of W. Ward (1912) and M. Trevor (1962) as significant "lives of Newman" to consider, and it addresses their earlier shortcomings : Ward's inadequate appraisal of the Anglican Newman and Trevor's unconcern for Newman's theological writings. Of Newman's intellectual contribution, Ker's treatment is similar to Dessain's John Henry Newman, an exposition of the major themes and intellectual moves, and theologically-minded inquirers need read both. Ker offers the hook as a personal life, a literary appraisal, and an intellectual study. The personal life and literary analysis are ably carried off; Ker's background in English literature and his editorial work on the letters have served him well. The intellectual study takes the form of synopses of Newman's hooks and articles, which are woven into the chronological narrative of the life. This aspect of Ker's hook is by no means "the theological achievement of JHN" (cf. Tracy's work on Lonergan); such a project still awaits Newman studies and someone of the conceptual breadth of the late Jan Walgrave to achieve it. Ker provides accurate and readable summaries of Newman's writings, and if a biography is meant to introduce the sundry aspects of a person, especially a complex thinker like Newman, then Ker's treatment of the intellectual aspect offers a fine introduction. I shall consider these three dimensions of the biography, and first the personal life. Newman considered that a person's life is best told 888 BOOK REVIEWS through that person's correspondence. Ker's biography is approached chronologically, and Newman's published letters guide the tale. Newman 's advice is particularly apropos for his own biographer, since Newman 's hooks and articles often displayed a "reserve" in which his true feelings were couched and nuanced. His letters, especially to confidants, were candid and often hard-hitting, as when he described the Curia in these words: " And who is Propaganda? one sharp man of business, who works day and night, and dispatches his work quick off, to the East and West, a high dignitary, [perhaps an Archbishop], hut after all little more than a clerk... with two or.three clerks under him " (p. 519). (Ker displays some reserve himself, omitting Newman's episcopal aside.) Ker's use of the letters is most revealing during Newman's Roman Catholic period when he encountered opposition from Archbishop Manning and W. G. Ward in England, from Archbishop Cullen in Dublin, and from Cardinal Barnaho in Rome. One senses how the laity rallied round him. Some of Newman's most pungent thoughts on ·theological freedom, on the suspicious nature of the clergy toward educated laity, on the wherewithal to make an institution a genuine university, on the role of patience and.trust in God when authorities are hearing down, are to he found in Ker's choice of letters. With so much material to mine-Newman wrote 20,000 letters-it is understandable that Ker does not include, save rarely, what Newman's opponents were thinking. Ker's account of Newman's Anglican period is equally illuminating, and indeed it is a highlight of the biography. While the Apologia has provided the main lines of the story, Ker puts flesh and hones to Newman 's struggle with his conscience. In coming to Oxford, Newman... (shrink)