. Spinning .

I’m reading this a bit harder now, resistant to its all-too-easy message.  I am questioning the logic, as if it is twisted to produce rather than by strict deduction.  I need go back–or simply be more cautious in the forward reading–and pay more attention to those qualms of doubt.

In my mind I realize the implications, and also that I need not accept these words of Boethius.  In my mind, I recall my stubborn inability to assume, but rather take the mark of incorrect:  Assume that all redheads are bad-tempered; Jane is a redhead; therefore, Jane is bad-tempered.

Every fiber of my being shouts NO! 

Maybe just my inability to take direction, but tendency instead to ramble, stumble through this lifetime trying to find my own.  I seek, I think, unhappiness or rather, exquisite happiness to be proven to exist. 

…is in God.

"Grant, Oh Father, that my mind may rise to Thy sacred throne.  Let it see the fountain of good; let it find light, so that the clear light of my soul may fix itself in Thee.  Burn off the fogs and clouds of earth and shine through in Thy splendor.  For Thou art the serenity, the tranquil peace of virtuous men.  The sight of Thee is beginning and end; one guide, leader, path, and goal."  (Part III, Poem 9, p. 54) 

As I suspected, a belief in something other-worldly must exist to accept the principles of happiness that can only be found in the perfection offered by a Supreme Being, and untainted by the way of man–as everything upon this earth appears to be.

To forego any belief and trust in happiness upon this earth except in that knowledge and firm conviction that there is a great beyond this lifetime…well, that takes faith.  Boethius probably has it. 

But then again, if this belief itself, this trust in soul that flies from earth to live forever on, brings contentment and true happiness to mortal man, what does it matter if it be true or false?  The happiness is here and now, and disappointment is impossible, as if no more exists, then that as well does not.

No lesson is learned the better than when lived.  And often that which seemed one way, becomes another when applying a different theory.  That which seemed most difficult to me of Philosophy’s logic was that of honor in striving for achievement. 

"But, when it comes to the location of the good which they desire, they are blind and ignorant.  They dig the earth in search of the good which soars above the star-filled heavens.  What can I say to show what fools they are?  Let them pursue their riches and honors and, when they have painfully accumulated their false goods, then they may come to recognize the true."  (Book III, Poem 8, p. 49)

While I have never had the opportunity nor the urge to accumulate great wealth, honor that comes with earning and hard effort has always been of great–and now I see, unjustified–importance.  For that which can be too readily conferred is not worth holding as a source of happiness.  The satisfaction is in the having done, but must be done with and one must move beyond. In understanding pride and honor,its transient nature need be seen as such.  Last night I learned to apply this reasoning to an event in a forewarning manner, instead of searching through memory to depend upon the understanding.  Lesson learned.

I see where Boethius, through Philosophy, is heading, and in wrapping up Book III, he starts to create the alternate lifestyle that can (he claims) offer true happiness.  Nature is but a foundation, but it is the false images given it by man that fool him onto the wrong paths.

"Therefore, that which is self-sufficient, which can do everything by its own power, which is honored and famous, is not this also most pleasant and joyful?

(…) "Then," Philosophy went on, "it must be granted that, although the names of sufficiency, power, fame, reverence, and joy are different, in substance all are one and the same thing."

(…) Human depravity, then, has broken into fragments that which is by nature one and simple; men try to grasp part of a thing which has no parts and so get neither the part, which does not exist, nor the whole, which they do not seek."  (Book III, Prose 9, p. 51)

The total package.  Let’s go for it.

Philosophy sums up the falseness of that which men seek as happiness, and gives her reasons for each being unable to bring true good and happiness to those who take these paths:

"There is no doubt, therefore, that these are the wrong roads to happiness; they cannot take anyone to the destination which they promise.  Let me briefly show you the evils within them.  If you try to accumulate money, you must deprive someone else of it.  If you want to cover yourself with honors, you will become indebted to those who can bestow them; and, by wishing to outdo others in honor, you will humiliate yourself by begging.

"If you want power, you risk the danger of your subjects’ treachery.  if you seek fame, you will become involved in difficulties and lose your security.  If you seek a life of pleasure–but who would not spurn and avoid subjection to so vile and fragile a thing as his body?  Indeed, those who boast of bodily goods are relying on weak and uncertain possessions.  For you are not bigger than an elephant, nor stronger than a bull, nor as quick as a tiger."  (Book III, Prose 8, p. 48)

Put like this, it would seem to be that we’re better off not coming out of the cave.  This all seems so negative–and very close to my own attitude it’s scary.  This "something will go wrong so don’t even try it" formed advice would seem to be anti-happiness in its fear of risk versus rewards.  But this is not truly the advice Philosophy gives, but rather in knowing the risks, know as well the need not to depend upon these things for happiness.

Here is where she will bring in the answer.  Thing is, she’s run out of material things and would then I guess head in the direction of the spiritual, or the gaining of the knowledge.  I’m curious.

Perhaps I should read through to the end before I post on this or any other book, because I change with it as clarifications are made, but the arguments along the way are some fun too.  I don’t mind admitting when I’m finally convinced I’m wrong, nor balk at changing mind in view of it; in fact, it seems a lifting of the veil and sparks, I’m sure, a great Hurrah! among those who watch my faltering steps to gain my footing up the mountain.

Here, Philosophy uses the material form of wealth to illustrate her principle:

"And now let us see whether riches really drive away need.  Don’t the wealthy become hungry and thirsty; don’t they feel the cold in the winter?  You may argue that they have the means to satisfy their hunger and thirst, and to protect themselves against the cold.  Nevertheless, the needs remain, and riches can only minimize them.  For if needs are always present and making demands which must be met by spending money, clearly there will always be some need which is unsatisfied.  And here I do not press the point that, although nature makes very modest demands, avarice is never satisfied.  My present point is simply this:  if riches cannot eliminate need, but on the contrary create new demands, what makes you suppose that they can provide satisfaction?"  (Book III, Prose 3, p. 42)

This is a very pointed and logical way of reasoning.  And the only thought that I take issue with is the basis on which Philosophy claims that new demands are created.  The following is the pre-argument for the above. 

"Then wealth cannot give a man everything and make him entirely self-sufficient, even though this is what money seems to promise.  But I think it most important to observe that there is nothing in the nature of wealth to prevent its being taken from those who have it.

(…) "And why shouldn’t you agree, since every day those who are powerful enough snatch it from those who are weaker.  In fact, most lawsuits are concerned with efforts to recover money taken by violence or fraud.

(…) "Therefore, a man needs the help of others to protect his money.

(…) "But he wouldn’t need it, if he had no money to lose.

(…) "Well then, the situation is upside down; for riches, which are supposed to make men self-sufficient, actually make them dependent on the help of others."  (p.42)

I do understand the concept, and the bitter reality of it, but would argue that it not be a preassumed stand that "man needs the help of others to protect his money".  This is what Philosophy claims as the basis for its inability to promote self-sufficiency.  We must assume the evil nature of man who lusts after his neighbor’s wealth, or, in a more grassroots manner, even assume that if a man, let’s say, has wealth dependent upon his lands, he himself is dependent upon the work of others to bring it to fruition. 

But I argue none too emphatically as Philosophy is being practical and realistic rather than suiting her arguments to an idealistic world.

That’s okay; I’m sure I’ll find something else to question as I go along.

Let’s play with Philosophy a bit; pull Boethius away from my personal sphere and into Faulkner’s world of the Compson’s of The Sound and The Fury.  I won’t go into essay here, as I have with teaming up Aristotle and Steinbeck in a head to head, but just for giggles…

Fortune, according to Boethius’ Consolation of Philosophy (and here, we must assume the words of Philosophy, and thus the theories, are those put forth by Boethius himself, as author), whether it comes in the form of wealth or status is not to be held with any hope of bringing happiness, as it is by nature unreliable, and need be seen as such.  The characters of Faulkner’s novel hold these two gifts of fortune at their highest level of importance, and indeed are driven through life and to death because of them alone.

Mrs. Compson feels that misfortune has brought her the mental incompetence of Benjy, the willfulness of Caddy, the dourness of Quentin, the lack of respect by her husband in deference to his own family name.  Jason, who has little value for his family fights dishonor in its name (and too, dishonors its reputation and title by his own evil nature–another point made by Philosophy), and has an unhealthy and corrupt (see, Philosophy was right again!) view of wealth.  Caddy displays a genuine love for Benjy, and a caring for those around her, yet she lies her way into a marriage to assume an honorable name for her unborn child. 

This, I can see right here, can turn into an essay all in itself by the characters adhering to Philosophy’s theory of unhappiness and misery that the turn of Fortune brings to man.  Quentin is so consumed by his unhappiness that he commits suicide.  Thus, proving Philosophy’s point that fortune or misfortune is just as ably ended by man’s act at death, and so as fickle as Fortune herself. 

And what of Benjy?  He cares nothing for wealth, power or even reputation.  What is his own source of happiness but having Caddy near.  Is he then to be considered closest to the perfect happiness we all should strive to reach?  Or does Philosophy require the understanding that would come only of the knowledge of one’s plight?

Faulkner, it would seem, knew well the failings of man in seeking happiness in Fortune.

While Book II ends with an exhortation of "O how happy the human race would be, if that love that rules the heavens ruled also your souls!"  (Poem 8, p. 35), Philosophy hints finally at my own hope that honor is sought in not titles nor wealth, but in self respect and care of fellow man.

"Fortune has separated your true friends from two-faced ones; when she left you, she took her followers with her and left you your own.  Think how much you would have given for this knowledge when you were still on top and thought yourself fortunate.  Now you complain of lost riches; but you have found your friends, and that is the most precious kind of wealth."  (Book II, Prose 8, p. 34)

So at least there is a goodness, a value placed on self respect and virtue as seen in one by others.  Philosophy is claiming to Boethius that while Fortune is temporary, corrupting, and not to be taken as a source of happiness, it’s dual nature of Misfortune does in fact have the saving grace of its lesson in understanding that nature, "often turns them around and forcibly leads them back to the true good."

I do not think she means to merely look back and appreciate the better times, but rather to understand that there is no stability to Fortune, and therefore time and effort would be wasted on it.  Philosophy, in considering the soul and its transcendence over life, directs Boethius to concentrate instead on aspiration and satisfaction beyond the immediate.  All well and good for Boethius, who is a believer.

For one thing that is vital to Philosophy’s theory is a belief in afterlife, and this is one thing she is sure of in her conversation with Boethius.  For if one does not believe, then knowledge and whatever true happiness she claims is found in state of mind is as lost at graveside as is the wealth of material things and men’s false crowns.

"In the end, we reach the same conclusion about all the gifts of Fortune.  They are not worth striving for; there is nothing in their natures which is good; they are not always possessed by good men, nor do they make those good who possess them."  (Book II, Prose 6, p. 30)

Philosophy would seem here to discount even the striving for that which is a) diluted in value by being attainable for the wrong reasons, b) bear no intrinsic value in and of themselves, but rather are perhaps the means to achieve good rather than the ends, and c) are not enduring.  While I can buy the understanding that they not only do not guarantee happiness nor goodness and they are not to be depended upon, that they should not be held as some goal within this lifetime is not quite clear.

In quick reading of Prose 7, this may become a bit clearer as to what this all means in the individual and to his world.

I’ve read a bit more on this same page.  Reread it, and still argue. 

Meanwhile, Storm Carson blows from east to west and west to east.  Somehow I think it’s just an inch that blows from neighbor’s yard to neighbor’s yard and lands in piled up drifts three feet in our own driveway. 

Sideways snow.  Like making up one’s mind by seeking truth from all directions.  If fair is what I want to get and give, how then can it be worthless.  If hurt is not worth averting as it should not be felt at all, how does one turn one’s back on stepping in and keeping one from stabbing to the heart another.  If fighting for myself and only worldly goods I’d back away.  But in my father’s name and in the sense of justice for all three remaining I take on the purpose.  But what is honor, what is pride, and what is justice?  And what reward but quickly aging towards an end that can’t be happy in this world, and may not exist at all beyond.

I just don’t understand.

Reading Consolation now is both a blessing and a sham.  Personal conflicts are so relative to the lessons, and so the close reading is closer still.  But is that its purpose, to help one understand the principles and so apply them to one’s own philosophy of life, or better, higher, to take it as it is between Boethius and Philosophy and expand it to humanity.

I feel so greedy and self-serving using this for personal purpose, and yet is that not a hope of Boethius himself?  Is he not teaching by the learning in his own experience? 

I keep falling off my soapbox in the fight against injustice in the justice system.  Black and blue I clamber up again, convinced the principle is worth the fighting for; or so it seems.  Maybe this is why I drag myself through Consolation; why I am not racing through to find the answer to contemporary plights.  Guilt at using wisdom in such secluded manner.  Questioning myself as much as Boethius.  Seeking likeness in the weakness of human nature, but seeking truth and reason as well.

Quiet reading today, and perfect for the contemplation.  I understood the measure to which Philosophy held Fortune, but seeing fortune as a state of being–aside from material things, which I well understand are transitory and little value in the long run:

"Moreover, if honor and power were by nature good in themselves, they would never be found in wicked men.  For opposites are rarely found together, and nature abhors the union of contraries.  Since there is no doubt that wicked men are often hnored, it is obvious that the kind of honor which can be ahieved by the wicked is not good." (Book II, Prose 6, p. 30)

At first reading of the above, it’s understood.  Then the doubts creep in.  Like saying that if money goes to evil men than money’s not worth having, in fact, is bad.  This isn’t quite the full truth.  Money, for all its bad connotations, is not in itself an evil thing.  It’s just a medium by which we must survive and use as barter.  And honor paid to the corrupt, is that not just by a hoodwinked crowd?  Does it lessen the honor to be abused? 

If publishing houses publish junk, is it less meaningful to the good works that are done as well?  Maybe so.  What should be strived for then, as goals and purpose?  In this life, I mean.  Or is this life, the gifts of which are given to both the virtuous and the evil, not meaningful at all?  Again, an unwavering trust in a life beyond the grave in which the body lies must be accepted.  How else to justify the inequalities on earth.

Further reading, I am sure, will clarify Philosophy’s advice and explanation.  Right now, I do not see the sense in smugness that acceptance of all on earth would bring if when the passing is nothing more than past.

"Although it is true that things which are subject to fortune can hardly be counted on, nevertheless, the last day of a man’s life is a kind of death to such fortune as he still has.  What difference does it make, then, whether you desert her by dying or she you by leaving?"  (Book II, Prose 3, p. 22)

Simply said, you can’t take it with you.  However, it doesn’t really address the immediacy of Boethius’ problem.  Sure, when he dies he won’t need or care about his current condition of loss and imprisonment.  But what of now?  What of the living? 

One must have, I would think, an absolute firm belief in an afterlife to forego the pleasures, to not mind the setbacks.  Then too, if the bad luck must not be worried over, then the good should neither be taken with great joy. 

Here however is where Philosophy may be leading:  Transitory circumstances are not to be given the importance.  Happiness should be hung upon a more stable post.

We’ll see.

Needless to say, Boethius is struck by his turn of fortune; from honored statesman to prisoner, and Philosophy renders Fortune’s argument:

"If free-handed Plenty should dispense riches from her cornucopia as plentiful as the sands cast up by the storm-tossed sea, or as the stars that shine in heaven on clear nights, men still would not stop crying their miserable complaints. (…)

"Even when he is filled with great favors, he burns with thirst for more.  No man can be rich who cries fearfully and considers himself to be poor."  (Book II, Poem 3, p. 21)

And Boethius’ reply:

"You have made a persuasive argument," I replied, "and presented it with sweet music and rhetoric.  But it satisfies only while it is being spoken.  Those in misery have a more profound awareness of their afflictions, and therefore a deep-seated pain continues long after the music stops."

To which Philosophy answers:

Still, you ought not to consider yourself completely miserable if you recall your many great joys.

Common sense on both sides of the argument; fate is fickle; man is greedy; nothing is ever enough; misfortune strikes at all. 

But are Boethius’ troubles the result of fortune or luck as one would call it and as Philosophy reports?  Hasn’t he instead bred within himself an honor and sense of justice that took some toll on him as well as gained him the glory and status he achieved?  Fortune here I take not strictly as material, but hold as does Boethius, his self and reputation, his purpose.

At this point, I am hoping that misfortune is being considered as only one level of sorrow, and one that as Philosophy points out, may be considered out of man’s control.  Then, her presentation is right in its argument for needless worry.  Rejoice in the good times, and though I suppose she feels we should not lament over the bad, I think what she is saying is not to depend upon it as its very nature is one of randomness. 

But what of that which has been earned?

Perhaps these two selections read now are out of sync with the space of time and place in which I do reside…

Faulkner is brilliant, but I’ve reached my breaking point of admiration and want to walk into the clearing.

Boethius presupposes the reader’s belief in God.

And all the meager creative efforts I can muster of my own are draining into the writing of my will.

"You are confused because you have forgotten what you are, and therefore, you are upset because you are in exile and stripped of all your possessions.  Because you are ignorant of the purpose of things, you think that stupid and evil men are powerful and happy.  And, because you have forgotten how the world is governed, you suppose that these changes of your fortune came about without purpose.  Such notions are enough to cause not only sickness, but death."  (Book I, Prose 6, p. 16)

Yes.  What Philosophy tells Boethius is exactly what I see.  But how can attitude alone cause change?  Does she suggest that there is a deception of perception of reality that can be modified by belief?  While I would agree that "I’ve been down so long it looks like up to me" is a turning point, it appears that Philosophy is insisting that while grief and sorrow over misfortunes clouds the mind and thus, the vision of truth–and this may be a natural reaction–there is something stronger that if not allowed to be lost to emotional reaction, would be enough to hold Boethius through his trials.

Is this possible?  She is not referrring to faith in God, I do not think, but a truth in human nature that can withstand the "wild south wind (that) churns up the sea, the waves which once were clear as glass, as clear as the bright days, seem muddy and filthy to the beholder." (Book I, Poem 7, p. 16)