Category Archives: epicurus

Book Review of Epicurean Philosophy: An introduction from the “Garden of Athens”

Eikas cheers to all! The book Epicurean Philosophy: An introduction from the “Garden of Athens” was made public in the announcement related to this year’s annual symposium of Epicurean philosophy (the program for which is here), together with the following publications:

The educational efforts spearheaded by Christos, founder of the modern Epicurean Garden in Athens, and by some of the other Kathegemones (Epicurean Guides) in Greece, have yielded positive results, and documented the tangible benefits of philosophy in peer-reviewed studies. This is quite exciting, as it paves the way for future experimentation with similar curricula elsewhere. We are very proud of the work that has been done by the Epicureans in Greece.

I was most excited to hear about the English-language book that was published by the Epicurean Gardens in Greece, which harvests the wisdom gained by our friends for the benefit of the international community. In this essay, I review the book Epicurean Philosophy: An introduction from the “Garden of Athens”.

Epicureanism as a Scientific Humanism

The belief that exists about the nature of the divine as well as its influence on the world and humankind is also wrong and dangerous, creating fear and unrest as it attributes natural phenomena, human situations and behaviors to dark powers and divine intervention.” – Leonidas Alexandrides, Tetrapharmakos essay, p. 122

Throughout this book, we find an Epicurean conscience, perspective, and narrative of history, which inevitably includes a reaction against the terrors and errors of Christianity and of Christian hegemony or fascism. The editor refers to the Cristian Dark Ages (which, he admits, were not entirely dark since Epicurus was known to some intellectuals during the Middle Ages), calls the Christian Era “an interruption of 1,000 years of barbarism”, and frequently accentuates the scientific nature of Epicurean Humanism. Some people may be bothered by this characterization, but we must remember two things:

  1. The characterization is, frankly, accurate, and Epicureans have always been known for their parrhesia (frankness), both private and public, and
  2. The Greek Orthodox Church is just as toxic as the Evangelical Churches in the US. In 2018, the state in Greece stopped paying a salary to its priests only AFTER the considerable economic difficulties that Greece had faced in recent years, which were related to bankruptcy and chronic debt. According to this source, this decision was later reversed by conservatives, and the priests are now again on state payroll in spite of the continuing economic difficulties that Greece faces. This shows us how entrenched the church is in the power structures in Greece. Christos accentuates the virtues of secularism, of Enlightenment values, and of Epicurean philosophy against this background.

The point of this is that the liberating and enlightened way of thinking that Epicureans epitomize is clearly worth celebrating, when seen against the backdrop of the restrictive and harmful obscurantism that is prevalent still today because of Christian hegemony.

The Principle of Emergence

Among the trivia points that I found interesting in Christos’ presentation of philosophy, I found this in page 59:

Each composite body possesses properties that the particles comprising it do not possess (principle of emergence, the basis of chemistry). – 13th principle of atomic physics

The earliest instance of the emergent or relational properties of bodies is expressed in Epicurus’ Epistle to Herodotus. Later in page 88, Christos says that Epicurus

described the law of conservation of matter during chemical reactions, as Lavoisier rediscovered and named two millenia later. Therefore, Epicurus laid the foundations of the basic notions of chemistry.

In page 89, Christos quotes Lucretius to further accentuate how he discusses atoms binding together to form molecules (much of DRN is believed to be based on Epicurus’ 37 books On Nature):

Things which seem to us hard and compact are made of particles more hooked one to another, and are held together close-fastened at their roots, as it were by branching particles. – De rervm natvra, Book 2, 444-446

On Conceivability

Conceivability is one of the advanced or difficult concepts that I first encountered in Philodemus’ scroll On Methods of Inference. This book helped to contextualize the historical origin of this concept. In page 60, we read:

Epicurus, like the atom(ist) philosophers Leucippus and Democritus, accepted the Eleatic principle of ontological identification, which states that there is no reason why every real thing should not be conceivable.

Epicurus’ Influence on Modern Medicine

One of the most fascinating points made by the book is the claim (in page 92) that the modern medical division of acute pain versus chronic pain originates in Epicurus’ Principal Doctrine 4.

(the Epicurean) Asclepiades of Bithynia spoke of the pathology of molecules (the modern term is molecular medicine), overcoming Hippocrates’ theories of “the four fluids” …

He was the first physician to formulate the separation of diseases into “acute” and “chronic”, as an analogy with the fourth Principal Doctrine of Epicurus on acute and chronic pains. Asclepiades spoke of tiny invisible animals that live in stagnant waters and may cause diseases (microbes). He was the founder of Methodic Medicine (“methodos” implies systematic scientific investigation), which for half a millennium had been the only rational and scientific school of medicine in the ancient world that did not pollute medical practice with metaphysical beliefs based on divine intervention, astrological influence, and dream therapy.

Later, in page 100, we read that Asclepiades brought a scientific and compassionate approach to medicine:

Asclepiades adopted and applied friendly treatment and psychological support to patients … Influenced by an Epicurean quotation of acute and chronic pains, Asclepiades realized that some diseases are short-lived and should be treated immediately for healing. In contrast, others are chronic and incurable, and the best thing a physician should do is make the patient’s life more tolerable.

One reason why I love this passage is because it places before the eyes the actual utility and praxis of the very misunderstood Principal Doctrine 4, and in general of all the Kyriai Doxai. Many people forget that Epicurus himself suffered from chronic pain, that (true to his experimental and pragmatic canon) he tested Kyriai Doxai in his own body and experience, and that he primarily conceived of true philosophy as therapeutic. Asclepiades’ approach reminds us of the correct way to make use of Kyriai Doxai, which in this case helps us to proactively organize ourselves around our approach to and practice of pain management.

A Tetrapod or a Tripod?

Since the Canon (our epistemological system) is one of the most difficult aspects of Epicurean philosophy to explain to others, it’s beneficial to read how others understand and explain it. Christos comprehensively describes the Canon as a methodology, which includes two principles of confirmation (epimartyresis and antimartyresis). Christos says this is the source of the scientific method. We are still studying this at SoFE, but one source we found for this is in Sextvs Empiricvs, as preserved in a fragment known as Usener 247:

According to Epicurus, some opinions are true, some false. 

True opinions are those which are attested by and not contested by clear facts, while false opinions are those which are contested and not attested by clear facts

Attestation is perception through a self-evident impression, that the object of opinion is such as it once was thought to be—for example, if Plato is approaching from far off, I form the conjectural opinion, owing to the distance, that it is Plato. But then he has come close, there is further testimony that he is Plato, now that the distance is reduced, and it is attested by the self-evidence itself. 

Non-contestation is the conformity between a non-evident thing which is the object of speculation, and the opinion about what is apparent—for example, Epicurus, in saying that void exists, which is non-evident, confirms this through the self-evident fact of motion. For if void does not exist, there ought not be motion either, since the moving body would lack a place to pass into as a consequence of everything being full and solid. Therefore, the non-evident thing believed is not contradicted by that which is evident, since there is motion.

Contestation, on the other hand, is opposed to non-contestation, for it is the elimination of that which is apparent by the positing of the non-evident thing—for example, the Stoic says that void does not exist, something non-evident; but once this denial is put forward, then that which is evident, namely motion, ought to be co-eliminated with it. For if void does not exist, then motion does not occur either, according to the method already demonstrated. 

Non-attestation, likewise, is opposed to attestation, for it is confirmation through self-evidence of the fact that the object of opinion is not such as it was believed to be—for example, if someone is approaching from far off, we conjecture, owing to the distance, that he is Plato. But when the distance is reduced, we recognize through self-evidence that it is not Plato. This sort of thing turns out to be non-attestation.

So attestation and non-contestation are the criterion of something’s being true, while non-attestation and contestation are the criterion of its being false. And self-evidence (enargeia) is the foundation and basis of all [four] of these.

Unlike most of the Western Epicureans I know, Christos accepts a Tetrapod or four-legged epistemological system (four criteria in their Canon, mentioned in page 71) as opposed to our more familiar Tripod (three sets of faculties consisting of the five senses, the pleasure / pain faculty, and the prolepsis faculty).

The third criterion is the hardest to explain. One easy way to explain prolepsis is as a natural faculty for conceiving of abstractions (although my favorite explanation for it is the one found in García Gual’s book, which is only available in Spanish). Christos mentions “images from the subconscious”, and links prolepsis with Jungian archetypes. The point is that this is a natural, physical, and organic faculty, and not images from a Platonic or supernatural idealist realm. Some additional canonical remarks:

  • The fourth criterion of truth is mentioned as epibole tes dianoias (focusing of the mind) in Laertius’ Book Ten, which Christos associates with mental focus.
  • Christos discuses the method of multiple explanations (in page 76) as a process of hypotheses gathering.
  • He mentions modern contemplative studies (page 87) and compares them to Epicurus’ assertion that gods are perceived only by mind.

Jefferson

Panagiotis Panagiotopoulos wrote a chapter on the life of Thomas Jefferson, where he celebrates that Jefferson was the first in human history to write the right to happiness into a social contract when he wrote “life, liberty, and pursuit of happiness” into the Declaration of Independence (page 163 of the book).

I’d go further and say that Jefferson was practicing Kyriai Doxai when he wrote this. He was practicing the Epicurean doctrines on justice based on what is useful for mutual association, since he was steeped in Enlightenment values and wanted to create a society where, even if not everyone was Epicurean, at least those of us who were, would be able to thrive as Epicureans.

Conclusion

Some final notes:

  • Christos’ (in page 95) invites us to study these scientists: Lavoisier, Boyle, Dalton.
  • His chapter on the biography of Pierre Gassendi was fairly complete, engaging and enjoyable.
  • The book includes notes on some of the Epicurean ideas that contributed to the Islamic Enlightenment, of which I was not aware, although I had heard the name of Omar Khayam and the Mutazilites.
  • Babis Patzoglou (one of the contributors) shows signs of Hellenic nationalism, and gives a description of the Garden as a type of classless society (page 176). These ideas may not resonate with everyone.

The book has small editorial mistakes, which are in great part due to the fact that English is not the first language of the Kathegemones (Epicurean Guides) of the Gardens of Athens, Thessaloniki, and elsewhere in modern Greece. However, overall, I am stoked that this book was published in English. It’s a much needed intersection that allows for those of us who do not speak Greek to be able to harvest the wisdom of our Epicurean brethren in Hellas and to benefit from their expertise. 

Educational Content Update:

Epicurean Philosophy: An introduction from the “Garden of Athens”

Happy Eikas! – Lucian’s 10 Assertions on the Kyriai Doxai

Eikas cheers to all our readers! To members of Society of Friends of Epicurus, Eikas of February is officially our Gregorian-calendar Hegemon Day, which celebrates the birth of the first Epicurean in history. Epicurus of Samos elaborated a fully natural cosmology based on atomism, paved the way for our modern Western scientific worldview, and taught his friends an ethics that consisted in learning the art of living correctly, pleasantly, justly, and prudently. We invite our readers to learn more about our Hegemon by studying his own Code of Ethics: the Kyriai Doxai and the Epistle to Menoeceus.

Lucian of Samosata is poetically a “spirit of laughter” among our ancestors. He was at one and the same time an artist, an engaging storyteller, a clown, a satirist, and a comedian. Lucian practiced VS 41 when he chose to live with laughter, and to impart laughter while being true to the Kyriai Doxai. In portion 47 of Alexander the Oracle Monger, a satirical novel from the 2nd Century of Common Era, Lucian of Samosata gives a full book review of the Kyriai Doxai.

In this connection Alexander once made himself supremely ridiculous. Coming across Epicurus’s Accepted Maxims, the most admirable of his books, as you know, with its terse presentment of his wise conclusions, he brought it into the middle of the market-place, there burned it on a fig-wood fire for the sins of its author, and cast its ashes into the sea. He issued an oracle on the occasion: The dotard’s maxims to the flames be given.

The fellow had no conception of the blessings conferred by that book upon its readers, of the peace, tranquillity, and independence of mind it produces, of the protection it gives against terrors, phantoms, and marvels, vain hopes and inordinate desires, of the judgment and candor that it fosters, or of its true purging of the spirit, not with torches and squills and such rubbish, but with right reason, truth, and frankness.

Lucian says many things in this small passage, and I’d like to highlight ten assertions that he makes–in part because Epicureans have always been known for concise speech, and his choice of words looks like the product of a careful editorial process.

  1. That whoever insults or burns the Kyriai Doxai is “supremely ridiculous” (worth laughing at). This is how a laughing philosopher praises the Doxai.
  2. That Kyriai Doxai is the most admirable of Epicurus’ books.
  3. He chose the words “as you know”. This implies that Celsus (to whom he is writing the novel) already “knows” these things about the Kyriai Doxai, and we may infer that Celsus must have either been an Epicurean, or that they perhaps had studied the Kyriai Doxai together. In Laertius, Book Ten, we read that a sage will give public lectures, but only upon request. Lucian may have been applying this same logic to his Epicurean testimony. By mentioning that Celsus specifically requested the work, he sought to excuse himself from the accusation of preaching in public, and/or of being a demagogue (since Epicurus forbids public preaching). I believe that the mention of Celsus in this manner may have been a way to certify his fulfillment of the rules on passive recruitment. In this way, he is applying the Laertian loophole (of work being produced “upon request”) to his own missionary work, creating an analogy between public lectures and comedic literature. This analogy is appropriate, in my view, and in fact we have discussed it in our own Koinonia, and concluded that we consider it valid (that both lectures and written works produced by invitation fulfill the rules of the founders concerning passive recruitment). If he is indeed applying some form of the Laertian standard, then Lucian is aware that he’s engaging in missionary work when writing this.
  4. Lucian mentions the “terse presentment of wise conclusions”–this means clear, concise, to the point, polished, sparing. Philodemus of Gadara also praised Epicurean writings’ conciseness, precision and clarity.
  5. Lucian says that the Doxai confers blessings upon its readers, and goes on to mention them. It is here that he creates a depiction of Kyriai Doxai as a dynamic force within the psyche of students, and in the circle of friends that study together.
  6. Among these blessings, he mentions peace and tranquility, a claim which could be justified by Doxai 1-4, 6, 17, 35, and many others.
  7. He mentions the independence of mind KD produces, a claim which could be justified by our recent meleta on KD 14.
  8. He mentions protection, or in some translations liberation, specifically, from five named evils. The five evils mentioned by Lucian are “terrors, apparitions, portents, vain hopes, and extravagant cravings”. In other translations, I’ve seen them numbered as: “terrors, phantoms, and marvels, vain hopes and inordinate desires”. Concerning terrors and apparitions, these claims are justified by KD 1, 2, 10-14, and others. Vain hopes are destroyed in KD 2, 21, and 7, among others. Concerning portents or omens, this claim is justified by KD 16. These evils can be divided into two types: specific types of fears and specific types of unnatural desires. Lucian’s five evils remind me of the four “roots of all evil” in Diogenes’ Wall.
  9. Lucian says Kyriai Doxai fosters judgment and candor (open and honest expression).
  10. The term “TRUE purging” (sometimes translated as “purifying”) reminds me of the philosophical religiosity and spirituality espoused by Empedocles in his “Purifications”. Here, however, Lucian is using the term to differentiate Epicurus from the main character in Alexander the Oracle Monger, which is a parody of a false prophet and charlatan. He is saying that, unlike this charlatan, Epicurus does indeed truly purify the understanding by straight thinking (which I believe refers to the clarity bestowed by the canon, Doxai 22-25), and by Truthfulness and Frankness / Parrhesia.

Some translations of this passage use the verbs “create, engender, develop, liberate and purify”–all creative, life-affirming, and sustaining verbs. These actions are attributed to the Kyriai Doxai, and give the impression of the Kyriai Doxai as an active, dynamic force in the psyches of the readers. We have no way of knowing whether Lucian is writing his own testimony, or whether he is co-editing this with Celsus or another Epicurean Guide or mentor, but this does not affect how thought-provoking this passage is.

Lucian’s testimony concerning Epicurean philosophy does not end there. On Epicurus himself, Lucian wrote earlier in the same work:

[17] And at this point, my dear Celsus, we may, if we will be candid, make some allowance for these Paphlagonians and Pontics. The poor uneducated ‘fat-heads’ might well be taken in when they handled the serpent—a privilege conceded to all who choose—and saw in that dim light its head with the mouth that opened and shut. It was an occasion for a Democritus, nay, for an Epicurus or a Metrodorus, perhaps, a man whose intelligence was steeled against such assaults by skepticism and insight, one who, if he could not detect the precise imposture, would at any rate have been perfectly certain that, though this escaped him, the whole thing was a lie and an impossibility.

… [25] A time came when a number of sensible people began to shake off their intoxication and combine against him, chief among them the numerous Epicureans; in the cities, the imposture with all its theatrical accessories began to be seen through. It was now that he resorted to a measure of intimidation; he proclaimed that Pontus was overrun with atheists and Christians, who presumed to spread the most scandalous reports concerning him. He exhorted Pontus, as it valued the God’s favor, to stone these men. Touching Epicurus, he gave the following response. An inquirer had asked how Epicurus fared in Hades, and was told: Of slime is his bed, And his fetters of lead.

The prosperity of the oracle is perhaps not so wonderful, when one learns what sensible, intelligent questions were in fashion with its votaries. Well, it was war to the knife between him and Epicurus, and no wonder. What fitter enemy for a charlatan who patronized miracles and hated truth, than the thinker who had grasped the nature of things and was in solitary possession of that truth? As for the Platonists, Stoics, Pythagoreans, they were his good friends; he had no quarrel with them. But the unmitigated Epicurus, as he used to call him, could not but be hateful to him, treating all such pretensions as absurd and puerile

Notice here the assertion that Epicurus alone was in solitary possession of the truth about the nature of things. That the entire novel was written in solidarity with the numerous Epicureans that he also mentions in this passage is confirmed towards the end of the novel:

[61] My object, dear friend, in making this small selection from a great mass of material has been twofold. First, I was willing to oblige a friend and comrade who is for me the pattern of wisdom, sincerity, good humor, justice, tranquillity, and geniality. But secondly I was still more concerned (a preference which you will be very far from resenting) to strike a blow for Epicurus, that great man whose holiness and divinity of nature were not shams, who alone had and imparted true insight into the good, and who brought deliverance to all that consorted with him. Yet I think casual readers too may find my essay not unserviceable, since it is not only destructive, but, for men of sense, constructive also.

Here, Lucian again emphasizes that Epicurus was alone among the philosophers in terms of not being a sham, being truly holy, benefiting others, and having true insight and knowledge. Lucian is clear, emphatic, and unequivocal in all his statements about both Epicurus and his Principal Doctrines. Based on the reading of these passages, it seems to me that Celsus must have been a fellow Epicurean, because

  • as Lucian mentions early in the text, Celsus requested the collection of jokes, perhaps mixed with this defense of Epicurus–with the added benefit that in this way, Lucian evades breaking the Epicurean community’s rules against preaching in public when uninvited, and
  • Alexander the Oracle Monger was put into writing as a token of friendship between two Epicureans of the Second Century of Common Era, when Christians had become a visible minority and Epicureans were numerous in what is today Western Turkey. Lucian says “as you know” when praising the Kyriai Doxai, and “you will be very far from resenting” (that Lucian is striking a blow for Epicurus). These expressions indicate that Lucian and Celsus either studied philosophy together, or celebrated Eikas together, or in some other way had enjoyed Epicurean camaraderie. The dedication to Celsus makes me imagine that they had such sweet friendship, having spent innumerable hours laughing together at these things, that the compilation of jokes and stories was a testament of their fruitful and happy friendship in some way. Writing this work rendered immortal some of the best parts of their friendship. Their friendship and their laughter practice still benefits all the future generations who have since enjoyed reading “Alexander the Oracle Monger”.

Lucian is writing a comedy, but suddenly and emphatically he wants the reader to know that he is serious about Epicurus and the Kyriai Doxai. Lucian’s Epicurean testimony is a serious moment in the midst of a comedic work, although it’s entirely relevant and woven with ease into the rest of the narrative. For all these reasons, I see Lucian of Samosata as a great role model in placing before the eyes the practice of the laughing philosophers that is found in VS 41: at one and the same time, Lucian laughs, uses his talent to entertain friends, and finds his voice as a philosopher.

One must laugh and seek wisdom and tend to one’s home life and use one’s other goods, and always recount the pronouncements of true philosophy. – Epicurean Saying 41

This Month’s Literary Updates:

 Living for Pleasure: An Epicurean Guide to Life is a book review of a new friendly introductory book by Emily Austin

“Living for Pleasure: an Epicurean Guide to Life”: a SoFE Book Review

Boys and men are lonelier than ever. What can we do about it.

Further Reading:

Kyriai Doxai

Alexander the Oracle Monger

What’s so Funny About Lucian the Syrian?

The Lucian of Samosata Project

“Living for Pleasure”: a Book Review

Living for Pleasure: An Epicurean Guide to Life by Emily Austin is one of the latest books propagating Epicurean philosophy as an answer to modern philosophical questioning. It is non-academic, written in a style that is friendly and easy to follow, and most modern Epicureans who have read the book seem to have a positive opinion of the book, as do I.

One of the ideas I appreciate (because this is such a prominent problem today) is her treatment of anxiety and how it relates to taraxis / perturbation. Epicurean philosophy helps us to diagnose (by signs) hindrances to happiness, and to tackle them rather than be avoidant. Epicureans do not use philosophy to escape nature, but to thrive in it and live pleasantly. This book discusses the many issues that are tackled directly by Epicurean therapeutics, and how Epicurus and the other Epicurean Guides act as life-coaches, helping us to address all the important philosophical projects related to our happiness.

Paraphrasing the Kyriai Doxai

One didactic method utilized by Philodemus of Gadara (most famously, in the Tetrapharmakos) is the practice of paraphrasing the Kyriai Doxai. This is different from repeating them, and is a way of memorizing them and gaining full cognitive assimilation of them.

One valid criticism of the Tetrapharmakos is that it risks oversimplifying the first four of the Principal Doctrines. But the truth is that we have no reason to supposed that the Tetrapharmakos ever meant to replace in-depth study of the first four, or to diminish the importance of the other 36 of the Kyriai Doxai. On the contrary, I believe that Philodemus is teaching us the method of paraphrasing, using the Tetrapharmakos as an example that we can apply to the other Kyriai Doxai. This is a point that Philodemus himself insists on in Scroll 1005. In fact, the most brilliant extant work by Philodemus is an extensive elaboration of the second of the Four Cures, which takes up an entire book titled Peri Thanatos (On Death), where he lists in detail all the pragmatic repercussions of the second Principal Doctrine.

Having cleared this out, let us delve into how Emily Austin uses the Philodeman technique of paraphrasing a Doxa in order to better cognitively assimilate it. In this case, she paraphrases Principal Doctrine 29 (“the hierarchy of desires”), which says:

Among desires, some are natural and necessary, some are natural and unnecessary, and some are unnatural and unnecessary (arising instead from groundless opinion).

Austin re-labels the three categories as natural (natural and necessary), extravagant (natural, unnecessary) and corrosive (neither natural nor necessary) desires. She uses this terminology throughout the book. I believe this technique of paraphrasing works well, and is a great way for Kyriai Doxai to adapt and become native to our modern, English language discourse.

Reading and Writing Epicurus

Austin argues that in addition to studying the Epicurean sources, the student should also write his own epitomes and essays of Epicurean philosophy, rehashing and expressing Epicurean ideas in her own vernacular. This is one way of practicing Vatican Saying 41, which instructs us to “utter out loud” the words of true philosophy, rather than merely be a passive recipient of them.

In my experience, gathering our thoughts after we have spent time becoming experts in some aspect of EP by writing down what we’ve learned, as if this was our final homework, is one of the best ways to demonstrate that we have assimilated what we are learning, and also a great way of potentially benefiting our Epicurean friends. When we articulate what we have learned, we have proof of profiting from our didactic process.

Therefore, this practice of reading and writing about Epicurus and his teachings is a great auto-didactic method. It was used in the days of the founders, who encouraged their pupils to keep outlines and summaries of the teachings. Much later, in Roman times, the Epicurean Guide Philodemus of Gadara instructed his own students to keep an outline of the doctrines on wealth. This demonstrates that the reading-and-writing method has been used to help students become experts in both the general points of the philosophy, and in the specific aspects.

Meleta on Friendship

I found the following quote thought-provoking. It adds practical observations to our meleta on PD 27, on the importance of friendship, that are helpful in our choices and rejections. Perhaps some of my readers can add their own criteria to this list.

Using Epicurean standards, we might locate beneficial friendships and weed out harmful relationships along the following lines:

  • If someone makes us insecure bout our intellect, taste, status, or attractiveness, jump ship.
  • If someone abandons us or others in crisis, they cannot be trusted.
  • If we do not like who we become around someone (e.g., we become petty, mean, judgmental, gossipy, or status-conscious), the relationship does not benefit us.

Our friends should not measure us by the metrics of corrosive desires, give us the sense they will abandon us when we become inconvenient, or bring out the worst in us.

Conclusion

Overall, this book is a great new addition to the modern study of Epicurus, and makes a great gift to a friend that we wish to introduce to the practice of Epicurean philosophy.

Further Reading:
Living for Pleasure: an Epicurean guide to life, by Emily A Austin

Liber Tertivs: On the Nature of the Soul

Eikas cheers to all! We recently became aware of the book Epicurean Philosophy: An introduction from the “Garden of Athens”, edited / written by Christos Yapijakis, Panagiotis Panagiotopoulos, and others from the Epicurean Gardens in Greece.

The book Epicurus and His Influence on History, by Ben Gazur is available for pre-order. He has, in the past, written the essays An Epicurean Cure and Why Epicurus Matters Today.

This month, Revista Horizonte’s YouTube channel published the lecture “Perspectiva política de la filosofía epicúrea” by Estiven Valencia Marín. This is in Spanish, and the facilitator argues that Epicurean philosophy does not strictly forbid political engagement.

In Mahsa Amini: the new Iphianassa, we discussed that Lucretius opens his poem De rerum natura by giving various reasons for writing the poem, among them the perceived need for a new social contract that was not oppressive because of the corruption of religion. Near the opening, he also mentions that death and the nature of the soul are serious enough threats to human happiness, that they too were reasons for writing his poem.

For what the soul may be they do not know,
Whether ’tis born, or enter in at birth,
And whether, snatched by death, it die with us,
Or visit the shadows …
– Lucretius, De rerum natura, Liber Primus

Ergo, clarifying the nature of the soul is one of the intended purposes of De rerum natura. In the third of the six books, after summarizing Books 1 and 2 (verses 31-33), Lucretius introduces Liber Tertivm, the entirety of which (like Philodemus of Gadara’s wonderful scroll “Peri Thanatos” / “On Death”) contains meleta on Principal Doctrine 2, and which deals with both death and the nature of the soul. In fact, there are some parallels with the Philodeman scroll, and around verse 884 we see Lucretian criticism of being angry that one has to die and of worrying about various ways of dying, which is reminiscent of Peri Thanatos. The reason why he chose this particular subject (as per verses 36-93) is that he says that fear of hell and death lead to degrading or fear-based forms of religion, zeal (fanaticism), evil, greed, murder, and the quest for fame and of other vain and empty desires.

In verse 55, Lucretius says that when men are in doubt or in anger, we get to see what they’re made of, because they tend to use “the mask” of religious zeal. This is a profoundly insightful commentary on the nature of religiosity, and applies a Philodeman logic–where we diagnose some neurosis or what he calls “disease of the soul” based on signs.

Will hate of living and beholding light
Take hold on humankind that they inflict
Their own destruction with a gloomy heart-
Forgetful that this fear is font of cares,
This fear the plague upon their sense of shame,
And this that breaks the ties of comradry
And oversets all reverence and faith …

For just as children tremble and fear all
In the viewless dark, so even we at times
Dread in the light so many things that be
No whit more fearsome than what children feign,
Shuddering, will be upon them in the dark.
This terror, then, this darkness of the mind,
Not sunrise with its flaring spokes of light,
Nor glittering arrows of morning sun disperse,
But only nature’s aspect and her law.

Defining the Natural Soul

Further Reading: The Concrete Self
Lucretius Book 3 – Death of the Soul, and Other Good Things

Epicurus instructs at the opening of his Epistle to Herotodus, that we must first define the object of our investigation, before we begin any discourse. We generally think of the natural soul as the condition of the living flesh that gives us life and sentience. As Epicureans, we are unconcerned with any supernatural or Platonic conception of the soul. Instead, we speak of the nature of the soul, even of the health of the soul, in wholly physical terms. Lucretius defined the soul as part of the body, and connects it with the head or the intellect from where the organism governs itself.

The mind (animus / sometimes translated as soul) which oft we call the intellect (mentem), wherein is seated life’s counsel and regimen, is part no less of man than hand and foot and eyes are parts of one whole breathing creature. – Liber Tertivs, 94-95

In Liber Tertivs, Lucretius is expounding the same theories that Epicurus expounds in his Letter to Herodotus (portions 63-68), and in more detail. To be clear, the soul is physical. Lucretius explains that the soul is mortal (416, 603-614) and that it gets sick and ages with the body (445-491), that wine gets the soul drunk, and that the soul’s diseases can be treated with medicine (510-525). We also learn that the soul has no weight (230), that the five senses are among the soul’s faculties (624-633), and that the first atomists imagined that the atoms of the soul were particularly subtle or tiny because neural activity happens so fast (177-205), and in this he uses the analogy of how water moves faster than honey because it’s less dense.

Must we not grant that mind and soul consist of a corporeal nature? – 167

The Head, the Chest, and the Belly

Mind and soul (animum atque animam), I say, are held conjoined one with other, and form one single nature of themselves; but chief (caput) and regnant through the frame entire is still that counsel which we call the mind, and that cleaves seated in the midmost breast.

“Caput” means “head”, and indicates that the soul is the head of the body. He may have been working with, and translating from, the Greek word “psyche” in his sources.

Lucretius argues (147-160, and again in 395-415) that the mind is stronger than the flesh. This idea of the soul as the head of the body echoes the logic of Principal Doctrine 20, which we also find in the Wall Inscription of Oenoanda.

Emotions in antiquity were associated with the chest, so it’s not surprising that the ancient Epicureans believed the soul was partially in the chest. This is likely based on the process of “reasoning by signs”, and the observation that strong emotions increase the heart rate and that the heart stops beating at the moment of death. In reality, as Lucretius explains elsewhere, the soul or animating power is found embedded throughout the entire bodily frame.

The focus on the chest as seat of the natural soul might be part of the Epicureans’ insistence that man is more than a rational animal, that he has irrational faculties that are just as important as reason. Lucretius mentions some of these non-rational feelings and faculties of the soul (joy, terror, dismay, etc.)

There are many instinctive psychological processes that happen in the belly, and we know that many of the so-called “happiness hormones” are synthesized in the belly as well. Some yoga instructors teach focused exercises for what they call the “solar plexus”. Some (like Osho)–in a manner that may remind some of Metrodorus’ arguments with his brother–insist that we must “befriend the belly”. Current research shows that the belly has enough neurons to constitute a “second brain”

I do not wish to digress much into Taoism, but I wish to accentuate that one of its founders–Yang Chu, who was hugely influential among the Seven Sages of the Bamboo Grove and many other later thinkers–based his entire philosophy on the body as our ultimate ontology. He is the author of several chapters of the second most important classic in Taoism, the Zhuang Tzu. The lack of a Platonic split between body and soul in Taoism has produced a vibrant philosophy that expresses itself in bodily practices related to preventive health, movement, and martial arts, with no boundary whatsoever between the so-called spiritual world and the body.

In Taoist martial arts and meditative practices, the belly is the focus of attention and breath-work, and considered an important means of grounding an stabilizing oneself. The belly, together with certain dietary practices, are important in other cultures’ regimens of self-care.

Treatments for Fear of Death

The main utility of studying the nature of the physical soul is to produce a theory and practice that works, and that can provide treatments for fear of death. These treatments, for the Epicureans, usually focus on arguments, repetition, placing before the eyes, and other similar techniques.

One such argument from Liber Tertivs (verse 904) consists of comparing death to being asleep. Another one is the symmetry argument, which compares the time after death with the time before birth of which we remember nothing, and so there is nothing to fear.

Other arguments are less therapeutic, and more about giving a more complete account of the nature of death in the context of our inter-existence with the other bodies that make up the cosmos. For instance, Lucretius says (in 970) that one thing grows from another, and since all bodies need the particles of other bodies in order to subsist, therefore we must accept that life is a loan.

Lucretian Reassessment of Myths

A naturalist redefinition of the soul and of death has the domino effect of dismantling much of the vulgar mythology that our ancestors have built around them. Lucretius argues that hell is on Earth, that Tartarus is not a place under the ground but represents fear of the gods and of fate, that Tityus is about the dangers of quick care and vague desire, and that the Sisyphus myth (which we discuss below) is about the tendency to seek power even if it does not add pleasure, which feels as if we were pushing a boulder up a hill.

The bottom line is that there is NO other world or afterlife, and that the only relevance of these myths is found in this world.

The Jar Parable

Although the Punctured Jar parable is treated in Liber Sextvs, in the third book we see that the imagery of the jar is an ongoing theme in Lucretius. Here, the body is compared to a jar that cracks open at the time of death and releases its vitality (verses 434-444). Around verse 793 we read that the mind requires the body as a “vessel”, again refuting the idea that a soul may exist without a host body. That the mind needs the body as a vessel is again mentioned around verse 555:

And just as hand, or eye, or nose, apart,
Severed from us, can neither feel nor be,
But in the least of time is left to rot,
Thus mind alone can never be, without
The body and the man himself, which seems,
As ’twere the vessel of the same- or aught
Whate’er thou’lt feign as yet more closely joined:
Since body cleaves to mind by surest bonds.

It seems like the punctured jar parable was part of a long string of meditations and parables on the physical nature of the soul, which in Liber Sextvs culminates in a salvific teaching.

Around verse 1000, while discussing the myth of Sisyphus, Lucretius makes another reference to the idea of the soul as a jar when he compared Sisyphus’ pushing a stone uphill to the behavior of someone who “feeds forever a thankless heart with good things yet never fills it”.

Here in this life also a Sisyphus
In him who seeketh of the populace
The rods, the axes fell, and evermore
Retires a beaten and a gloomy man.
For to seek after power- an empty name,
Nor given at all- and ever in the search
To endure a world of toil, O this it is
To shove with shoulder up the hill a stone
Which yet comes rolling back from off the top,
And headlong makes for levels of the plain.
Then to be always feeding an ingrate mind,
Filling with good things, satisfying never-
As do the seasons of the year for us,
When they return and bring their progenies
And varied charms, and we are never filled
With the fruits of life- O this, I fancy, ’tis
To pour, like those young virgins in the tale,
Waters into a sieve, unfilled forever.

In the jar metaphor, Lucretius is using poetic imagery as an expedient means to instruct us on the nature of the soul and its need for philosophy, while still employing poetry, parables, and myths. He does not dismiss these cultural devices, but employs them according to the study of nature. In doing this, Lucretius helps to construct a new spirituality, one that is fully physical and consistent with the scientific worldview and with the study of nature, but yet does not reject storytelling, poetry, imagery, parables, etc. In other words, he’s continuing Epicurus’ project of elaborating a complete worldview and cosmology–from the elemental particles all the way to the innumerable worlds–that yet satisfies and cares for the soul and all of its existential needs.

Further Reading:

The Concrete Self

The Punctured Jar Parable

Happy Twentieth! Nietzsche and Kyria Doxa Deka-Tessera

Happy Holidays and Happy Twentieth! Daily Philosophy recently published Epicurus: a Guide to the Principal Doctrines, which is different from another KD Study Guide recently published by Philosophy Break and our own Kyriai Doxai Study Guide.

In solitude there groweth what any one bringeth into it–also the brute in one’s nature. Thus is solitude inadvisable unto many. – Nietzsche, Thus Spake Zarathustra, Fourth Book, 73

Kyria Doxa Deka-Tessera

The positive value of fruitful solitude (which the recent pandemic enforced upon many of us), of individuality, and the accompanying challenge of thinking for ourselves and by ourselves have been on my mind recently, as I have been focusing on the study and praxis of Kyria Doxa Deka-Tessera (PD 14), which says:

Although some measure of safety from other people is based in the power to fight them off and in abundant wealth, the purest security comes from solitude and breaking away from the herd.

τῆς ἀσφαλείας τῆς ἐξ ἀνθρώπων γενομένης μέχρι τινὸς δυνάμει τε ἐξερειστικῇ καὶ εὐπορίᾳ, εἰλικρινεστάτη γίνεται ἡ ἐκ τῆς ἡσυχίας καὶ ἐκχωρήσεως τῶν πολλῶν ἀσφάλεια.

Principal Doctrine 14

The word translated as solitude (sometimes as quietude) is ἡσυχίας (hesuchias), which is the same word used today for the tradition of the Greek Orthodox Christian monks. However, Epicurus’ earlier form of hesuchía belongs to the laughing philosophers. Nietzsche’s Zarathustra, too, follows a tradition of laughing hermits. The word translated as “breaking away from the herd” is ἐκχωρήσεως (exchoriseos or exiting the chorus, literally).

I can think of at least two ways of practicing this Doxa, based on these words. If we can’t parrot whatever everyone else is saying blindly, then one option is to find our own voice. It will never be 100 % unique to us (because all communication originated in socializing processes), but insofar as it’s authentic, I think it fulfills the exchoriseos part.

If we can’t parrot what everyone else is saying, we can also stay silent. Therefore, a second way to practice this is via what the Taoist sages would call silent mastery. Silence does not have to be passive: it can be an act of power and health, just as speech is. It can be vitality that does not have to overflow to others, or the contented knowing that does not require external consent. In many wisdom traditions (Taoism, Yoruba, the Havamal) elders have observed that those who run their mouths tend to be ignorant, while the wise tend to choose their words carefully and are sparse with words. Philodemus addresses in Rhetorica some of the ways in which silence can be a philosophical practice.

Someone could argue that silence, solitude, and quietude can happen in the midst of society. That is possible. I think that this Doxa instills the value and the dignity of independent thinking, of privacy of thoughts (which I think must accompany freedom of thought, and without which freedom of thought would be meaningless), and of autarchy.

A more fruitful meleta on this Doxa might arise if we go down the rabbit hole of asking the following thought-provoking conversation-starter: “How do I set up the criteria to decide the means, the methods, and the techniques by which I will think for myself, and by myself?” (Nietzsche does much “philosophizing with his hammer” on this). In this way, the Doxa acquires the power to inform the choices and rejections by which we manage our inner life, and its insights become stronger. We may choose to think logically, or empirically, or practically … or playfully. Any of these ways of thinking for ourselves and by ourselves might pass hedonic calculus and be an outlet for the expression of our personal sovereignty–because this Doxa is, ultimately, an initiation into a PRACTICE of self-rule, of autarchy.

Of course, thinking for and by ourselves does not mean we know it all: we sometimes find it prudent to yield to the opinion of experts in certain fields. So we must also prudently discern even the limits of our self-reliance.

Free FOR What?

In Thus Spake Zarathustra, Nietzsche frequently refers to the lonesome ones, the seceding ones, and makes other references that remind me of Kyria Doxa Deka-Tessera / Epicurus’ Principal Doctrine 14.

TSZ is an encyclopedic volume, so I will focus only on chapter 17 of the work, which is titled “The Way of the Creating One” (the full work is here). The title and content of the chapter makes me think that to be free, the philosopher must be an artist. He must have creative resources, and if he does not cultivate creativity, he will not be practicing freedom but acting out patterns and programs born in the heads of others. And he will never be able to give a full and honest account of those others’ psychological profiles, histories, agendas, etc. Here, Nietzsche is philosophizing with his hammer!

Free, dost thou call thyself? Thy ruling thought would I hear of, and not that thou hast escaped from a yoke.

Art thou one ENTITLED to escape from a yoke? Many a one hath cast away his final worth when he hath cast away his servitude.

Free from what? What doth that matter to Zarathustra! Clearly, however, shall thine eye show unto me: free FOR WHAT?

Canst thou give unto thyself thy bad and thy good, and set up thy will as a law over thee? Canst thou be judge for thyself, and avenger of thy law?

Here, Nietzsche is teaching an active nihilism, and rejecting a passive one. I love this passage because setting up their will as a law (social contract) over themselves is exactly what Epicurus and his companions did when they authored, edited, and established the Principal Doctrines as authoritative for their circle of friends. In this way, the Kathegemones are a case study for this. Nietzsche later in this chapter goes on to warn the lonesome ones who have chosen to “exit the chorus” and to stop parroting the “manufacture of consent” pushed by the herd. He says:

And be on thy guard against the good and just! They would fain crucify those who devise their own virtue–they hate the lonesome ones.

Be on thy guard, also, against holy simplicity! All is unholy to it that is not simple; fain, likewise, would it play with the fire–of the fagot and stake.

I will not delve into the many other instances where Nietzsche speaks to the lonesome ones. I invite you, my readers, to get on his magic carpet by reading his works on your own, if you are inclined to visit the mountains of Zarathustra to gather this wisdom. It’s enough for my readers to accept the challenges of PD 14 and of TSZ 17, and practice with these insights for long enough and with a sustained enough effort to begin to see the inner revolution these words mean to incite in our souls.

If you seek yet another role model for learning to think and speak for yourself, for originality and creativity, consider Lucretius (this is from De rerum natura, Liber Qvartvs):

None before have walked where I walk.
I love to find new founts and drink;
I love to gether fresh new flowers
and seek the laureate’s crown whence Muses
never ere now have veiled the brow of any man …

Conclusion

Many moons ago, I had the delight of reading AC Grayling’s Good Book: a Humanist Bible, and wrote various book reviews and memes (like the Sheeple Meme) based on it. Having grown up Catholic, I have always enjoyed the idea of non-theistic literature that fulfills the role of scripture–not in the sense of being infallible, or inspired and aesthetically-pleasing literature, but in the sense of being a matrix of traditions, and a compilation of philosophical wisdom. Philodemus (when discussing the Pragmateia) added that true philosophical literature must help us to “walk forward in sweetness”. De rerum natura, and the Kyriai Doxai, have come to fill that role. But they’re not the only philosophical writings that I derive pleasure from.

Thus Spake Zarathustra reads like a Bible or other scripture, has almost the same number of chapters (80) as another non-theistic scripture, the Tao Te Ching (81 chapters), but its ardor, zeal, and passion make it feel more like a life-affirming atheistic Bible that vehemently rejects otherworldly beliefs. Like the Gospel or the Lotus Sutra, it has parables that have the power to shake the foundations of what we think we believe.

While TSZ is not perfect, and neither is Nietzsche, it can sometimes provide thought-provoking conversation-starters for our meleta, and its ideas can have strong synergy with some of the ideas in Lucretius and in the Doxai.

Further Reading:

SoFE’s Kyriai Doxai Study Guide

Friedrich Nietzsche – Thus Spake Zarathustra: A Book for All and None (Entire Book Online)

Why Passivity Breeds Mediocrity and Mental Illness  (or, “Free For What?”)

Mahsa Amini: the new Iphianassa

Eikas cheers to everyone! An Eikas program given many moons ago on Epicurus’ Sermon On Moral Development is live on our YouTube channel. Please enjoy, comment, and share. Also, I wish to thank Anthony, Caleb, Thomas, Tom, Ron, Steve & Carmel for their continued Patreon support, which encourages me to keep creating content.

Simon Knutsson has published A defense of ataraxia: Undisturbedness as the hedonic ceiling. George Washington University published Are the modern Stoics really Epicurean?

The following essay is dedicated to the memory of Mahsa Amini, and is written in solidarity with the Iranian people, and in particular with Iranian women’s struggle for secular values and for the attainment of non-religious law and order.

I fear perhaps thou deemest that we fare
An impious road to realms of thought profane;
But ’tis that same religion oftener far
Hath bred the foul impieties of men:
As once at Aulis, the elected chiefs,
Foremost of heroes, Danaan counsellors,
Defiled Diana’s altar, virgin queen,
With Agamemnon’s daughter, foully slain.
She felt the chaplet round her maiden locks
And fillets, fluttering down on either cheek,
And at the altar marked her grieving sire,
The priests beside him who concealed the knife,
And all the folk in tears at sight of her.
With a dumb terror and a sinking knee
She dropped; nor might avail her now that first
‘Twas she who gave the king a father’s name.
They raised her up, they bore the trembling girl
On to the altar- hither led not now
With solemn rites and hymeneal choir,
But sinless woman, sinfully foredone,
A parent felled her on her bridal day,
Making his child a sacrificial beast
To give the ships auspicious winds for Troy:
Such are the crimes to which Religion leads.
Lucretius, De rerum natura, 1.80-101

The human sacrifice of an innocent girl by her father to the Goddess Diana is cited by Lucretius, from the onset of his poem, as an example of why we need philosophy. To those of us who grew up under the yolk of Abrahamic religiosity, the sacrifice of Jephthah’s daughter in Judges 11 is a Biblical equivalent. But murderous religion is still a problem today: hildren are killed or burnt after being accused of witchcraft by Christian animists in Africa, and the Iranian regime is known for killing young girls and protestors. One could even argue that a comparable compulsion to offer youth and vitality in the altar of reactionary, conservative religious and political ideology is the Russian Orthodox patriarch’s promise to wipe out the debt of all sins for young men who fight in Putin’s “holy” war.

Lucretius mentions Iphianassa in the opening portions of his poem, shortly after praying to Venus for “peace in the land”, as a way to justify his call for a non-superstitious social contract, one that is not tainted by the terrors of religion. Similarly, a Kurdish woman that was murdered by the Islamic regime is being used by Iranians as a symbol of their resistance, and her death seems to have marked the beginning of the end for the Islamic Republic of Iran.

A Kurdish Iphianassa

Mahsa Amini–an innocent 22-year old woman who was beat and executed by the “morality police” in Iran back in September for not covering her hair properly–has by now become an icon of the ongoing Iranian revolution, which registers the post-Muslim secularism that exists among the youth. Due to the totalitarian nature of the current regime and its disinformation campaigns, it’s impossible to know with certainty how many people still identify as Muslim in today’s Iran, but according to this source, less than a third of all Iranians consider themselves adherents to the official Shia doctrine of the state, while

22.2% identified as non-religious; 8.8% identified themselves as atheist; 7.1% as spiritual and 7.7% as Zoroastrian

A new generation ripens, surrounded by dangers, but made fierce by its struggles. Their slogan is “Jin Jiyan Azadi” (Woman, Life, Freedom). It represents a life-affirming doctrine by which people hope to rid themselves of the current official ideology. This new doctrine is born from the Kurdish independence movement and from the recent struggles against ISIS.

In adopting this slogan, part of what the nationalists are saying is that it’s not worth fighting for independence if they’re going to fall into Islamic totalitarianism, like their neighboring countries. After fighting the Islamic State, they know that a land of endless religious oppression would not be worth fighting and dying for. This is why they feel the need to articulate a new, secular, democratic social contract that includes women’s rights that are unacceptable for ultra-conservative Muslims. 

Ocalan and the New Kurdish Social Contract

One of the masterminds of the “Woman. Life. Liberty.” slogan is (Kurdish-Turkish political prisoner) Abdullah Ocalan–an anti-capitalist, anti-patriarchal proponent of federal democracy and of a local brand of feminism known as jineology–which translates into women’s wisdom, or women’s science. 

The female gender is a central theme in both Ocalan and in Lucretius. By placing women at the heart of the revolution and of the social contract, Ocalan made a similar plea as Lucretius in The Opening of DRN: they wanted a type of new peace in the land that made freedom for women (from religious oppression) non-negotiable. Both call for a social contract that is rid of religious errors and terrors.

We may or may not agree with Ocalan’s anti-capitalism, but there is a certain tactical validity to this ism. The people of Kurdistan have already voted for independence from Iraq, and are in the process of building a nation. This requires healthy cooperative and grassroots networks. They need values that unify them, and the ability to form federations is essential to help them overcome tribalism. In a way, Ocalan and his partisans are successfully creating a similar intertribal peace to the one that Muhammad had achieved in Medina, but in the name of a secular worldview adjusted to his particular historical and social reality. Conservative politics in the Middle East are almost always informed by religious fascism, so a unifying secular ideology must almost inevitably originate on the left.

As if echoing Lucretius’ argument that only Venus is able to tame the belligerent “Mars” energies in the land, Ocalan says that only FREE and educated women can tame the belligerent energies that threaten Kurdistan (from ISIS, as well as from Islam, Syria and Turkey). Let us remember how valiantly Kurdish women fought ISIS when demented men of God from all over the world gathered in Syria to enslave and rape women and girls, and to massacre anyone who was not aligned with their radical, violent form of Islamist ideology. 

Women. Life. Freedom. is a call to arms against theocracy in the Middle East, and a useful case-study that helps us to place before the eyes many thought-provoking aspects of the Epicurean doctrines concerning natural justice and the social contract. By placing liberty and women at the forefront as non-negotiable, the resistance posits a new social contract that cannot be reconciled with the Islamist theocratic one or with shari’a law. They are both mutually exclusive to each other.

With the clear intention of unifying people in order to reverse the spread of Islamist theocracy in the region after ISIS, Ocalan created a new grassroots feminism in the heart of the Middle East: an indigenous, secular doctrine of Liberty, one that calls for a new social contract that does not impose Islam, or religion, on people. This the first modern, native, Middle Eastern humanist philosophical, cultural, and social movement that wishes unequivocally to eradicate Islamic theocracy and enshrine liberty on its constitution and way of life, as far as I know, without blindly copying Western models of secular values. This indigenousness is important in a region where such great distrust of foreign ideologies prevails, and also in light of the fact that most pundits believe that Kurdistan will most likely become a new independent country in the coming decades

The slogan of the French Republic (“Liberté, Egalité, Fraternité”), and some of the foundational slogans of the American Republic (“Life, Liberty and Pursuit of Happiness”) are still fashionable statements of the values of our countries. Will the slogan of the new Republic of Kurdistan and of the hoped-for future secular, democratic Republic of Iran last 200+ years in a region surrounded by religious authoritarianism?

Women Warriors and the Channeling of Martial Energy

Natural justice is an expression of utility, to prevent one person from harming or being harmed by another. – Principal Doctrine 31

Not everyone will be harmless to the women and men of Iran and Kurdistan if they adopt a secular constitution. Principal Doctrine 39 reminds us that there will always be people who fit within our social contract, and others who do not. This is why virtually all societies tend to enforce conformity to their social contract, and must defend it from hostile forces. Hence, the women warriors of Kurdistan.

Notice that the Opening of DRN does not call for the censorship or the emasculation of Mars, of manhood, or of aggression; rather, it advises a pleasant outlet for Mars’ aggression, even as it recognizes its dangers. Aggression, when channeled correctly, is made pleasant or made to serve a pleasant existence. We can think of certain physical exercises, sports, or sex as healthy outlets for aggression.

In Iranian and Kurdish societies, we see that aggression is being used in self-defense by the defenders of secular values. Let us remember that this is the generation that had to fight ISIS and see with its own eyes the terrors of religion, and of tribalism. Woman, Life, Freedom is the ripened fruit of moral development gained in Kurdistan from having to confront the reality of what the Islamic state was and did. Kurds’ sense of peoplehood helped them to repel ISIS. As a result, public disgust at the Islamic State became part of the collective psyche and memory of Kurds, and rectifying the crucifixions, beheadings, human trafficking and rape of the Islamic State is a matter of self-respect and dignity for Kurds.

ISIS showed them the urgency to diminish the forces of Mars / belligerence in the land mentioned in the Opening of De Rerum natura. This, and Ocalan’s insistence that women must be in leadership positions in their new social contract, also reminds us of the Venus over Mars theme.

Another way to interpret or consider the Venus-Jinology connection is based on the fact that religious social contracts tend to be anti-woman. Perhaps we can also consider it in terms of how a “matriarchal” instinct may emerge in some societies as a refuge from or a counter-balance to violent patriarchal excesses.

Finally, let us concede here that what Lucretius depicts in poetic, archetypal form, expresses itself in history as a revolution brewing before our eyes which requires many sacrifices. It’s not a theory or contemplation, but a brutal struggle. Our comparison of women’s struggle with Lucretian philosophy, while insightful, cannot do it full justice.

The Burning of the Hijab

An ateshgah, or fire shrine.

The Mahsa Amini protests were inaugurated with ecstatic images of women dancing around bonfires, some of them like Sufi swirling dervishes, and burning their hijabs.

The Zoroastrian connection here is very easy to miss by most Westerners. Zoroaster was a laughing philosopher, and dancing is forbidden in the Islamic Republic of Iran. Although the right to happiness has not made it into their slogans, it is clear that this is part of what Iranian women and youth are yearning for.

Fire is sacred to Zoroastrians and ancient Iranians. It’s a symbol of the Zoroastrian God, and the main ceremonial technology tied to Zoroastrianism. Furthermore, Zoroastrians have suffered near-genocide and are on the verge of extinction in the land of their birth as a result of the centuries of violent Islamization of Iran.

Therefore, when dancing women burn the hijab–a symbol of Islamic oppression–at the altar of their ancestral, pre-Islamic God, this is not just a protest. This is a ritual. They are returning to their pre-Islamic spiritual and philosophical roots, and conjuring ancestral powers and ideas to come to their aid at this junction in history.

In Solidarity

If Iran is ever able to overcome Islamic theocratic totalitarianism and become a secular democracy, this will greatly increase my optimism about humanity. Even more so if Kurdistan becomes a new, sovereign, democratic state. This would mean that there would be two new non-theocratic countries with kindred humanist values at the heart of the Middle East, spreading and defending secular ideas. I hope they succeed, and win for themselves a life that is free and happy.

Eikas and Ancestor Reverence

Eikas cheers to everyone! Last Sunday, October 16th we had our first live-libation Eikas in Chicago. For years, the Society of Friends of Epicurus has hosted a virtual Eikas program, and this month was no different, except that I had the pleasure of being visited by Alan / Harmonious–one of our most active members, who many moons ago performed Lumen Inlustrans inspired by De rerum natura and whose most recent Eikas presentation was on Epicurean guidance of the soul. We enjoyed the virtual program, as well as lentil soup, cheese, crackers, salami, and wine.

In addition to the Eikas experience, the previous day we had a delightful Ethiopian restaurant experience and visited the beautiful grounds of the Bahá’í temple just north of Chicago. Although we have no affinity with the religion, the temple itself is an architectural marvel (there’s only one temple of its kind per continent) and the Gardens were lovely, and there we recorded In the Garden: An Interview with Hiram Crespo. It was a perfectly sunny day with no clouds, as you can tell from how shiny my bald-head was during the interview!

Since the Principal Doctrines enjoy ease of reference and are authoritative, they act as a type of social contract among us, and are a source of ongoing study, practice, and discussion. This month, Philosophy Break published Epicurus’s Principal Doctrines: 40 Aphorisms for Living Well. It continues Erik Anderson’s meleta about the Kyriai Doxai, which he organized into an eight-fold path based on the narrative he perceived in them. Anderson was the curator of a couple of webpages, including the Epicurean wiki. I had the pleasure of exchanging a few emails with him before he passed away a few years back. I’m thrilled to see this type of invitation and guide to study the Doxai with the aid of a recent philosophical ancestor like Anderson. It’s an invitation to profit from his wisdom, long after he’s gone. It honors his memory, and his original intention, since he clearly wanted others to benefit from his organized way of doing meleta.

Young was I once, I walked alone,
and bewildered seemed in the way;
then I found me another and rich I thought me,
for man is the joy of man.

– Havamal, Stanza 47

Eikas and Epicurean Collective Memory

Every month on the weekend closest to the Twentieth, we celebrate Eikas. We offer a libation to the memory of our Hegemon, Epicurus of Samos, and another one to the memory of the first Epicurean Guide (Kathegemon), Metrodorus of Lampsacus. We then proceed to an educational program, where we continue the friendly conversations of Epicurus, Metrodorus, and their companions.

The tradition of Eikas predates Epicurus’ Final Will and Testament, where he mentioned “the rules now in force” concerning how to celebrate it. This means that the Hegemon and his friends started the tradition in memory of Metrodorus (who died first), and these traditions were likely influenced by the practices and values that were instilled on Epicurus by his mother (Chaerestrate), who had a keen interest in Greek folk healing and shamanism–which involved familial piety and ancestor reverence. Epicurus also honored the memory of his family members and his dear friend Polyaenus.

Two hundred years later, during the time of Philodemus of Gadara, we read in his scroll “On Piety” about Eikas as a sacrificial meal, and as a Festival of the Sacred Table. This makes me imagine that Eikas probably felt like a communion meal in the first century BCE. Today, Eikas is (usually) a virtual event that furnishes a chance for “meleta with others of like mind“, and it’s part of our toolkit for community-building.

Since October is a month that our culture dedicates to remembering our dead, in this essay, I’d like to evaluate some memorial aspects of the Eikas tradition in order to help us attain a deeper grounding on the theory and practice of Eikas. In my view, Eikas is the most essential Epicurean ceremony and the key to stabilizing and securing the continuity of our tradition, since we have observed that good Epicurean friends become a steady and helpful presence in each other’s lives through loyalty to the Eikas tradition.

Filial Piety Versus Blind Obedience

While there exists always some danger of excessive conservatism in ancestral reverence traditions, there are also benefits in the rootedness and grounding they offer.

Respect, love, and filial piety is not the same as tyranny of the old over the young, and does not imply blind obedience to elders. The Xiao Jing–the Chinese classic on filial piety, mentions that there should be “no ill will between superiors and inferiors“, and teaches: “Do not disgrace those who gave you birth“. Yet here, we find an embrace of tradition and strong social bonds, together with a rejection of blind obedience and the instruction to practice a form of parrhesia for the benefit of one’s elders described as “remonstrance” (defined as “a forcefully reproachful protest”):

Hence, since remonstrance is required in the case of unrighteous conduct, how can (simple) obedience to the orders of a father be accounted filial piety? – Xiao Jing

Epicurus’ Piety

The biographer Diogenes Laertius, in portion 10 of Book Ten of his “Lives of Eminent Philosophers“, cites Epicurus’ own character and filial piety (in the form of gratitude) towards Chaerestrate and Neocles:

… his gratitude to his parents, his generosity to his brothers, his gentleness to his servants … and in general, his benevolence to all mankind. His piety towards the gods and his affection for his country no words can describe.

Piety as a Technique

We can easily imagine how ancestral reverence traditions provide education, structure, and discipline to children and young people, and help to form their character, and also how “making our ancestors proud” may serve as an incentive for personal development, both in terms of our moral character and in terms of our achievements.

Since bodies of ancestors dissipate after death, they are not believed to intervene, therefore the theory behind Epicurean piety is not based on intervention from the spirit world. Filial piety techniques are meant to benefit the practitioners, not to reach the ancestral spirits.

The honor paid to a wise man is itself a great good for those who honor him. – Vatican Saying 32

The techniques of filial piety are much more efficient in forming the character if carried out with attention. In the Analects, Confucius argued that people should perform the sacrifices as if the ancestors were really there in the shrine, and similarly the ancient Epicureans used to say: “act as if Epicurus were watching“.

The object of piety should be someone worthy and wholesome, someone who was a helpful and loving presence in our lives. If their influence was degrading, piety is not due. In cases such as these, many ancestor reverence traditions incorporate therapeutic methods to help people work through these familial wounds.

The Libation as an Expression of Greek Piety

Having established the theoretical framework to consider Eikas in terms of filial piety, we’re also faced with the fact that Epicurean doctrines are at odds with much of what is traditionally associated with ancestor cults.

Philodemus, in his scroll Peri Thanatos (On Death), criticizes those who worry about whether a corpse was properly buried, and argued that it makes no distinction if one is unconscious in the water or under the ground. Ancient Greek tradition insisted that the dead had to be properly buried, but the Epicureans instead focused on the quality of the life lived, rather than the dignity of the corpse.

Ancestor reverence in Greece was tied to the Eleusinian mysteries and other mystery traditions and chthonic cults, where libations were poured for the dead in a consecrated pit dug into the ground. This is because the mysteries focused on nature deities, and the dead were believed to dwell underground. The members of the ancient Garden may or may not have strictly followed their culture’s filial piety traditions in this regard (perhaps they had an ancestral libation pit in their backyard, or perhaps not). Libations were offered using a phiale or patera (a consecrated ceramic or metal libation plate), and included milk, honey, wine and water.

After wine was poured from the phiale, the remainder of the oinochoē’s (wine jug) contents was drunk by the celebrant.

Since the social contract is a key concept in the Principal Doctrines of Epicurus, we must also consider the role of libations in sealing pacts. Libations were used for marking the act of entering into a covenant or social contract, or as a sign that one is fulfilling a pact previously made.

The Greek verb spéndō (σπένδω), “pour a libation”, also “conclude a pact” … spondaí marked the conclusion of hostilities, and is often thus used in the sense of “armistice, treaty.”

Nietzsche’s “New Fountains”

Attempts to create modern models of Epicurean community and practice remind me of a passage from Nietzsche’s Zarathustra where he discusses the reemergence of ancient ideas in “the fountains of the future”. He mentions that, after the death of God, new peoples would emerge.

He who hath grown wise concerning old origins, lo, he will at last seek after the fountains of the future and new origins.—O my brethren, not long will it be until new peoples shall arise and new fountains shall rush down into new depths. For the earthquake—it choketh up many wells, it causeth much languishing: but it bringeth also to light inner powers and secrets. The earthquake discloseth new fountains. In the earthquake of old peoples new fountains burst forth.

Thus Spake Zarathustra: A Book for All and None, Third Part, LVI. Old and New Tables, 25

I love this passage because our generation is seeing the emergence of many new peoples and new tribes. In addition to Epicurean communities, we are seeing Stoics, secular and religious Buddhists, every flavor of Paganism, and many other new sects and communities emerging in the post-Christian era. We can expect this trend to continue. I won’t dwell much on this so as to avoid going on a tangent, except to note that Nietzsche helps us to place the reemergence of EP within the context of the era in which we live, and that he does so with the use of poetry and art, which follows in the Lucretian tradition.

The Society of Epicurus Eikas

In our Koinonia, the libation is a mark of respect for tradition, and–for those of us who have made a formal resolution to practice Eikas–a mark of fulfillment of our word. But our virtual Eikas libation is of a secular variety, and our Libation is simply a toast in memory of Epicurus and Metrodorus, which pragmatically separates the initial period of informal introductions and conversations, from the time of discussion formally anchored in that month’s educational content.

But what is the utility of ceremony? There are several arguments. Confucian ceremoniousness is known as “Li“. According to that tradition, ceremony is used as a tool to impart harmony, stability, and order to social groups. The importance of ceremony was also accentuated by the Indianos in their Book of Community:

… That is why each community that wants to affirm its autonomy also has to face the creation of a ceremoniousness of its own … We not only need to tell the tale of what unites us, we need to represent it to feel like we are actors in the meaning of our lives.

As community we should be firm when faced with attitudes that strip away meaning, as this shows lack of self-respect.

The Taoists were not opposed to Li, but used to argue against excessive Li, since too much ceremony impedes naturalness (ziran). I believe this to be a legitimate criticism, which is why we only apply a minimal measure of ceremony at our Eikas.

A Word on Agreements and Oaths

Philodemus, in On Piety, says that Epicurus had strict rules concerning oaths (they must not be taken lightly, or in the name of trivial things). Oaths or agreements are a way to practice our Doctrines concerning justice. Organizing Eikas as a long-term tradition requires at least a small group of friends with the ability to collaborate effectively and fulfil their word. It’s considered unjust to break the agreements, except in cases where someone excuses themselves from Eikas via clear communication during a given month, with ample time for others to step in and carry the program that month.

Many human values are practiced through Eikas, in addition to the recipes or foods we may enjoy, the educational value we get, and sculptures/crafts we employ–like the traditional Double-Bust of Epicurus-Metrodorus, sometimes called a “double herm”. Eikas is a way of instilling the value of responsibility in young adults. The prolepsis of responsibility is linked to the ability to respond, to the act of answering to others for something we’re responsible for. Practicing this value produces the great advantage of having trustworthy members of a social unit. It glues communities together and helps them to accomplish concrete projects through teamwork. In any circle of responsible adults, people have a right to expect that each member will abide by their word–if we are to take our Doxai seriously.

Eikas as Medicine for Rootlessness and Nihilism

One final note comes from some of the ideas concerning recruitment of new Epicureans found in the book The Sculpted Word. This book deals with art-critique, but also with theories and practices related to our methods of passive recruitment, since Epicurus was avidly against preaching in public.

The author of the book argued that during the Hellenistic Era, when Epicurus founded the Garden, many people were rootless cosmopolitans. Perhaps this is because many Barbarians had been captured in the conflicts and wars of the age, and were therefore foreigners living among the Greeks as slaves. Slaves made up a large proportion of the population of Athens. We know that slaves were allowed to study in the Garden. We also know that there were a few hetairai (sometimes compared to prostitutes, but many of whom were probably just free, single women) who frequented the Garden, and perhaps this is because the Garden attracted many men who were single, or alone and in search of association and amusement.

Epicurean philosophy values philia (friendship): through wholesome association, people who were rootless were able to set roots in a new community and feel grounded.

This reminds me of Afro-Diasporic religions whose founding elders instituted godparent-godchild relations and “houses” (known as ilé in Cuban Santeria, or terreiro in Brazilian Candomble) in order to create new ancestral lineages and preserve African communal order and cultural traditions in Cuba, Brazil, and other American countries. This helped the African slaves to deal with the trauma of enslavement, abuse, exploitation, displacement, and rootlessness once they were in the New World. I suppose a similar sense of “adopted family” is attained when people enter a Buddhist lineage, or a Sufi lineage. Many Hispanic immigrants in the US who convert to Santeria and create new communities are also healing rootlessness this way. In the Yoruba initiation system used by Santeros, one is “adopted” into a new ancestral lineage. This enabled African cultural systems to be more fully trans-planted in the Americas. The ilé (adopted religious House) becomes the adoptive family of the initiate. If the theory described in The Sculpted Word is correct, then ancient Epicurean Koinonias (communities) and Kepos (Gardens) functioned a bit like the ilés of Afro-diasporic faiths, building new connections and growing new roots.

Blacks in Cuba had been indoctrinated into the Catholic Church, and they had no choice but to respect it, even if it was a racially white religion that supported slavery. Hence, their insistence on having a parallel African alternative religious narrative based on Yoruba spirituality. Similarly, many of us today also question the moral authority of the institutions that we grew up respecting. The creation of an alternative social contract is a model that, in addition to affirming our true and authentic values, responds to a crisis in legitimacy–in this case, we often question the the values of Christianity and of our culture’s prevailing nihilistic consumerism.

The example of Afro-diasporic faiths makes me think of Eikas as a practice of adoption of new ancestors (in this case Epicurus, Metrodorus, and perhaps other Guides like Lucretius and Philodemus) in order to nurture new roots.

Conclusion

Filial piety promotes a certain amount of conservative ethos. This is neither good nor bad in itself, but it lends a certain stability to cultural practices, identities, and institutions. It’s possible that this stability is part of what Epicurus was trying to impart via his Eikas feast: a certain measure of being grounded in the midst of a rootless, restless, nihilistic society.

By adopting Epicurus and Metrodorus as philosophical “ancestors” when we celebrate Eikas, we slowly grow new roots in the Epicurean Gardens. Eikas is one of the ways in which philosophy becomes native to a new land and to a new soul. The Eikas feast makes philosophy tangible in our time and place, and provides a concrete vessel to practice Epicurean friendship, wisdom, culture and community.

How to Eikas – PDF

On Votive Images

Video: Eikas, the Feast of the Twentieth

On Votive Images

Diogenes Laertius reports that Epicurus said that “a sage will set up votive images”, and Philodemus of Gadara–in his scroll On Piety–insisted that Epicurus was pious, citing many examples from his biography and practices, including how the house of the Hegemon was piously decorated for Eikas (the feast of the Twentieth) every month. Piety was part of his art of living (techne biou), of his technologies of the soul.

I asked others in our forum: “Why would Epicurus state this? What do you guys think of this?”, and here are some of the replies:

I’ve always understood it to be a normal part of ancient piety. – Michael

I think it’s not a whole lot different than how we put photographs of loved ones up on the mantle. A votive doesn’t have to be anything other than a reminder to ourselves (and the gods) of what’s important to us. – Jason

If it’s used as a way of focusing on people or ideas that mean a lot to the people involved, I can understand it. – Richard

I’ve seen other translations that say “he will erect statues” (of himself? His friends? The gods?) but will be “indifferent if he has any or not” … I guess a statue could be a votive image, but the passage is unclear. – Marcus

I wonder if this practice links to methods of passive recruitment as per the book The Sculpted Word. – Hiram

Possibly. Maybe also to give members a sense of identity, or maybe as placing before the eyes exercises? – Marcus

Piety itself seems to be psychologically and socially beneficial. I think I saw a quote from Nassim Nicholas Taleb once to the effect that the purpose of religious worship was to prevent one from thinking that they were a god. – Doug

Depends. In some cases, the goal may have been to approach the divine, or free the divine spark within us, as with the mystery religions. In the case of Epicurus, the goal was to “live as a god amongst men” and to “rival Zeus in happiness”. – Marcus

This discussion about the role of the gods made me think of how Epicurus ends his Epistle to Menoeceus, saying that we may live like gods among mortals, but with the condition that we must surround ourselves with immortal goods. What ARE these immortal goods (ἀθανάτοις ἀγαθοῖς) that appear in the ambience, in the environment, in the spaces occupied by someone who lives a blessed life? We know from Vatican Saying 78 that friends are among those goods, and we know (from Principal Doctrine 5) that Pleasure, Correctness, Prudence, and Justice are all necessary for a life lived pleasantly and correctly–so we must suppose these four qualities must be, somehow, tokenized, represented, or present in our environment. These votive icons may represent values or reminders of some of the immortal goods that are necessary for living a pleasant, wise, and correct life.

The Prolepsis of Numen

The rest of soul, throughout the body scattered, but obeys, moved by the nod and motion of the mind. – Liber Tertivs, 143-144

Here is the only instance of the term numen, or the numinous, in the entire work of De rerum natura. Let us consider the prolepsis of this term. The secular meaning of the word is “nod”. It is noteworthy that the numinous is used in the context of the movements of our own minds, rather than to refer to the gods or spirits, which are often the ones to receive the attributes of “the numinous” in the Latin language.

I do not believe this is accidental on the part of Lucretius, but very purposeful. I believe that Lucretius means to link the numinous to movements of the soul, the movement of assent in fact, of a nod: a yay-saying movement.

If we consider epoche–the suspension of belief proposed by Skeptics–as representing a suspension of assent, then numen (both as a nod, and more broadly as an act of yay-saying and of affirmation of some value or some authority) might have an anti-Skeptic / philosophically dogmatic connotation. The act of nodding is a bodily act of assent or affirmation (the making-firm of something), of creating, choosing, or acknowledging some value. Numen and “the numinous” are created as a motion of the mind within the body. There is nothing supernatural about the numinous in the pen of Lucretius.

If we think of the Gods poetically as non-supernatural or non-realist metaphors, we can still see how Gods may represent the values of the Enlightenment. Athena is philosophy, wisdom, prudence, and science. Hephaistos represents industry, craftiness, and inventiveness. Prometheus embodies progress, humanist values, and secularism. Hermes is the eloquent God of the market, of opportunity, communication, trade and exchange, etc. A nod to these personified principles (in the form of a votive image) might represent a recognition of their meaning and influence, and an affirmation of their values.

And so one possible utility of the votive images might involve a technique of active rejection of radical skepticism and cynicism concerning values by giving a nod to the values embodied by the chosen images.

The Prolepsis of Cvltvs

Another way to consider the importance of votive images is to think of the prolepsis of the words cultivation, culture, and cult. Lucretius (in the First Century BCE) hailed Epicurus as a savior and as a man-god in De Rervm Natvra. Historians report that people in the Greco-Roman world organized a cult to Epicurus as a culture hero, and also honored the other Founding Fathers of the School (Metrodorus, Hermarchus, and Polyaenus)–and even the Founding Mother Leontion, since we know that she wrote books and that there was at least one bust to her. If a disciple insulted or profaned the founders, Philodemus compared this behavior with “parricide” (murder of one’s parent). The Roman Empress Plotina hailed Epicurus as the “Savior” (Soter) of her soul. The ancient cvltvs seems to have some of the features that we today still associate with cults, but we must be careful not to project our modern values and perceptions.

As a Spanish speaker, I find it interesting that the word “cult” has such negative connotations in English. This is not a universal attitude, and probably speaks of a deep awareness of how harmful religion can get from our vantage point in history in the English-speaking world.

In Spanish (which has a greater degree of continuity with Latin than the English language does), the term “culto”–when used as an adjective–is used to refer to someone who is highly educated, someone who has cultivated themselves. If you say a gentleman is “culto” or a lady is “culta”, you’re saying that they are refined, that they have deep cultural expertise. Perhaps they speak many languages, have a high level of expertise in some field, or are able to appreciate or play certain types of musical instruments. According to dictionary.com

1610–20; Latin cultus habitation, tilling, refinement, worship, equivalent to cul-, variant stem of colere to inhabit, till, worship + -tus suffix of v. action

and according to Merriam-Webster

Cult, which shares an origin with culture and cultivate, comes from the Latin cultus, a noun with meanings ranging from “tilling, cultivation” to “training or education” to “adoration.” In English, cult has evolved a number of meanings following a fairly logical path. The earliest known uses of the word, recorded in the 17th century, broadly denoted “worship.” From here cult came to refer to a specific branch of a religion or the rites and practices of that branch, as in “the cult of Dionysus.” By the early 18th century, cult could refer to a non-religious admiration or devotion, such as to a person, idea, or fad (“the cult of success”). Finally, by the 19th century, the word came to be used of “a religion regarded as unorthodox or spurious.”

When seen through the lens of the prolepsis of the word cvltvs, a cult to an ancestor or founding figure entails some form of self-cultivation, as well as the systematic cultivation of a particular set of skills, knowledge, arts, or character traits that were exemplified by the chosen moral example. For instance, in China, students who wish to excel in school honor the sage Confucius as a god of learning by bowing and offering incense. The cult of Confucius represents him as personifying education as a celebrated human value. To teach, encourage and practice the honoring of Confucius is to instill and to celebrate the value of education. This is a value which has given the Chinese community here in the US a good reputation as a model minority.

The honor paid to a wise man is itself a great good for those who honor him. – Epicurean Saying 32

When we honor a sage or ancestor by offering sacrifices and by praising, nourishing and celebrating their memory, we are recognizing, celebrating, nourishing and strengthening the part of our souls that is like them, and the values they represent in our own souls. In this way, we continue to be influenced by them.

Another definition of “culture” relates to biology (as in, a culture of bacteria that we would grow in a Petri dish):

to grow (microorganisms, tissues, etc.) in or on a controlled or defined medium.

If we apply the methods of the third stage of language evolution–where conventionally used words are re-appropriated for abstract or advanced concepts–, we see the great utility of a philosophical cult and culture, re-defined poetically in the Lucretian tradition. Celebrating and re-membering the Hegemon and Kathegemon at Eikas is as if we were taking the portions of our souls represented by Epicurus and Metrodorus, placing them in a Petri dish, and cultivating them (by celebrating them, by studying them, and also by continuing their conversations) so that they grow and become a culture. This prolepsis of culture insinuates a kind of inner alchemy in our psyche through the cultivation of philosophy.

Considering philosophy as an act of cultivation and tilling, in addition to involving labor, also implies harvesting the fruits of our cultivation. Human culture implies the production of art or of some other concrete cultural product (foods, clothing, songs, etc.), and this also relates to the prolepsis of colere when understood as tilling, which is defined as “to prepare and cultivate (land) for crops“. The activity of cultivation has an end, a harvest.

What cultural products are we harvesting as practitioners of Epicurean philosophy? In his sermon on moral development, Epicurus speaks of the mature moral character as “the developed product”. A refined character, of course, expresses itself concretely in friendly exchanges, clear and intelligent thinking, clear speech, and other concrete tokens and benefits. We also generate cultural expressions, artistic artifacts, and other products by the practice of philosophy.

Eikas is a memorial service to our founders. We know that the atoms in the bodies of Epicurus and Metrodorus dissipated, that they died, and cannot receive our praise or celebration. Therefore, a cvltvs to them does not concern the historical persons of the founders, except as a point of reference in history, and is more concerned with the philosophical descendants’ choice to purposefully and systematically cultivate certain traits and qualities with the intention of harvesting the corresponding fruits.

Conclusion

If votive images are a way to access the numinous (often associated with the divine, the sacred), the prolepsis of “numen” reminds us that a numen is a physical act of nodding or affirming–that there is nothing supernatural about the numinous. It’s just an act of saying yes, of assent. And if setting up votive images is a cultic act, the prolepsis of culture/cult (understood naturally, rather than supernaturally) reminds us that they’re about cultivating certain qualities and practices with the aim of harvesting some fruit or result.

This discussion is meant as a preamble to an upcoming essay about Eikas as it relates to ancestor reverence.

Happy Twentieth: The Twenty-Two Excellent Books on Empedocles

Eikas cheers to all! This month’s Eikas program was on Guidance of the Soul in Epicureanism. Nathan Oglesby published a video titled Epicurean Ecology in his YouTube channel Nathanology, and also published the essay The Epicurean guide to digital life, Big Think published Epicurus and the atheist’s guide to happiness, and Natalie Haynes facilitated Standing up for Lucretius. Speaking of Lucretius, the YouTube channel Eclectic Humanist has videos titled:

An Intro to Lucretius
Book I: the Material Cosmos, Book II: Fun With Atoms
Book III: Death the Soul, and Other Good Things
Book IV: How We Know Things
Book V: From Primeval Ooze to Poetry
Book VI: Concluding with a Plague

I’ve enjoyed following this YouTuber and strongly recommend his channel for its in-depth exploration and appreciation of Lucretius.

Tiny Epics published Aphrodite the Light Bringer, which mentions Lucretius at the closing of the video, reminding us that De rerum natura is in actuality a work of polytheistic piety. Lucretius offered and consecrated the poem as a libation at the feet of Venus when he, at the opening of the poem in Liber Primvs, invoked Venus for inspiration, declaring that it is Venus alone who rules all of nature (“sola gubernas“, verse 21) and who can assist peace (“tu sola potes tranquilla pace iuvare“, verse 31), and asking her to give an immortal charm to the poem.

Hermarchus, on Empedocles

Diogenes Laertius [tmíma/portion 25 in the Laertian numbering system] reports that Hermarchus of Mitilene, the second Scholarch of the Epicurean Garden and successor of the Hegemon, wrote 22 books on Empedocles which he described as “excellent”:

Next came Epicurus’s successor Hermarchus, son of Agemortus, a citizen of Mitylene, the son of a poor man and at the outset a student of rhetoric. There are in circulation the following excellent works by him: Correspondence concerning Empedocles, in 22 books …

This is an encyclopedic amount of literary output, and indicates that Hermarchus considered Empedocles to be a thought-provoking philosopher, and that Empedocles must have had a seminal influence on Epicurean philosophy and on many later generations of Epicureans. Philodemus later avidly encouraged his disciples to study a collection of all the writings of the founders titled “Pragmateia“, which must have included these 22 books.

Who Was Empedocles

Like Epicurus, Empedocles combined many of the ideas he inherited into his own system of thought, creating a new nexus in the evolution of the ideas that were circulating in his culture. 

He was a bit eccentric, and mixed mysticism with proto-scientific curiosity. He wrote two poems: “Purifications” (which contained his religious and ethical thought) and “On Nature”. He was heavily influenced by the Orphic mysteries, which taught liberation from the wheel of reincarnation (through initiation and purifications), and was seen as a type of medicine man. He was also reported to have been a disciple of Pythagoras, which makes sense in light of his belief in reincarnation.

He was against authoritarianism (abolished a council of life-long magistrates, instituted term limits, and included people of all social classes in the new council), helped the poor, and also (like the first prophet Zoroaster, who may have been an influence) defended vegetarianism and fought against cruelty to innocent animals. 

He had been revered as a living god while alive, and upon his death legends emerged about his manner of death. In Icaro-Menippus, a comedic dialogue written by the second century satirist Lucian of Samosata, Empedocles’ final fate is re-evaluated. Rather than being incinerated in the fires of Mount Etna, he was carried up into the heavens by a volcanic eruption. Although a bit singed by the ordeal, Empedocles survives and continues his life on the Moon, surviving by feeding on dew.

Why 22 Books?

We will never know with full certainty why Empedocles deserved 22 books by Hermarchus, or why the biographer chose to describe them as “excellent”. In this essay, I will speculate about what these books may have contained by comparing what we know about Empedocles with what Epicurus, Philodemus, and Lucretius later wrote. 

Arguments Against Reincarnation

Lucretius’ arguments against reincarnation may have been derived from, or inspired in, Hermarchus’ reactions to Empedocles in his 22 works. In his third book, he argues that we have no memory of previous lives, questions how a soul could slip into a body, and rejects and even ridicules the idea of souls waiting to incarnate (Liber Tertivs 670-782).

Against the Rhetors

Laertius reports:

Aristotle, in his Sophist, says that Empedocles was the first person who invented rhetoric.

This may have been an additional bone of contention for Hermarchus, evidence for which we would later find in Philodemus’ Rhetorica. There, Philodemus argues that rhetoric does not give true expertise in any field of knowledge other than rhetoric, and that experts in each field are best equipped to teach it. He also argues at length against the unethical practices of rhetors.

Theory of Vision by Emission

Empedocles believed that the eyes emit rays that allow for vision (sort of like how Cyclops from Xmen emits laser rays from his eyes), rather than light particles entering the eye from outside. The portion of Liber Qvartvs in De rerum natura that discusses the five senses may have drawn–in part–from Hermarchus’ refutation of this theory.

The Evolution of the Theory of Natural Selection

Empedocles had a primitive version of evolution by natural selection, but he believed in an “island of Doctor Moreau” version of it, where humans with heads of oxen and other hybrid creatures emerged, but did not survive because their shape was not conducive to survival. Ergo, we imagine that Hermarchus may have had an issue with this, and Lucretius’ insistence (in Liber Qvintvs 878-924) that each species produces offspring according to its kind may be a later attestation of this.

But Centaurs ne’er have been, nor can there be
Creatures of twofold stock and double frame,
Compact of members alien in kind …

… Wherefore, the man who feigns
Such beings could have been engendered
When earth was new and the young sky was fresh
(Basing his empty argument on new)
May babble with like reason many whims
Into our ears …

… each sole thing
Proceeds according to its proper wont
And all conserve their own distinctions based
In nature’s fixed decree.

While Lucretius is not quite Darwinian yet, his account is an improvement on the ideas that preceded him, and he may have been drawing from refutations in  Hermarchus’ 22 books on Empedocles.

The Four Elements

Empedocles had a theory of the four elements (which he called “roots”). He associated them with four deities–a fact which may have inspired Paul’s disparaging mention of the elements in his New Testament epistles.

Empedocles’ four elements idea was clearly a precursor to the atoms and void theory of Democritus and the atomists, who at once reacted against and built upon his ideas. This was probably an important part of Hermarchus’ arguments in his 22 books.

If four things make up the whole and in those four all things break up again, how can the four be called the stuff of things rather than the reverse: the things, of them? For one begets the other; They trade off colors and whole identities, every passing hour. – Lucretius, in DRN, Liber Primvs, 762-769

One of the key features of the primitive atomic theory was that primal atoms do not have complex properties, and that properties like color and such emerge only after they combine into more complex bodies.

The arguments by the atomists against the four elements, and in favor of the atoms and void theory, may have involved the case study of water. We know (from Lucretius’ detailed and accurate description of the rain and condensation cycles) that early Epicureans had carefully observed how water becomes vapor / gas when exposed to heat, and becomes ice when cold, and we see clearly that the solid, gaseous, and liquid states may exist within the same element at different temperatures. Therefore, it is inaccurate to say that these four “elements” of water, rock, air, and fire are the primal eternal particles, since we observe that particles change from one to the other elements.

Linked to these refutations is the argument along the lines that “nothing can come from nothing”. 

Something ever unchanging must survive, lest all the world be broken down to nothing. For whatever changes and leaves its natural bounds is instant death of that which was before. Now therefore, since those elements I just mentioned do go through changes, they must be composed of others which can nowhere suffer change, else all the world will be reduced to nothing. – Lucretius, in DRN, Liber Primvs, 790-797

Love and Strife

Empedocles taught that love and strife (attraction and repulsion) were two basic forces of nature similar to the Yin and Yang of Taoism. These forces were at once physical, ethical and cosmological. 

Speaking poetically, he associated Love with Aphrodite, which begs the question: might this add a layer of meaning to the initial portion of Lucretius’ poem, which shows Venus overcoming Mars? Might this be a way to say that love overcomes strife, that attraction overcomes repulsion? Lucretius’ choice to address Venus may have been, in part, inspired in Empedocles’s belief that Aphrodite represents “the great creative force in the cosmos”.

It should not surprise us that Empedocles–like other contemporary and preceding Greek philosophers–is believed to have studied with the magoi (Zoroastrian priests). This theory of love and strife / attraction and repulsion in nature and in ethics is quite reminiscent of Asho Zartosht’s explanation in his Gathas of the two primal mentalities that exist in the cosmos: the Constructive Mentality (Spenta Mainyu) and the Destructive Mentality (Angra Mainyu).

The two foremost mentalities, known to be imaginary twins, are the better and the bad in thoughts, words, and deeds. Of these the beneficent choose correctly, but not so the maleficent. When the two mentalities first got together, they created “life” and “not-living”. Until the end of existence, the worst mind shall be for the wrongful, and the best mind shall be for the righteous. – Avesta, Yasna 30.3-4

Perhaps Empedocles continued the lineage of the Magi in a Greek context? Like the Zoroastrian version, his belief in Love and Strife as primal cosmic principles led to a conception of time, ages, and cycles dominated by either Love or Strife, and he imagined a long-forgotten golden age where Love (Aphrodite) had ruled.

No Atoms and No Void

They posit motion, but remove the void from things; they leave their matter soft and porous … yet never admit void to their substances. – Lucretius, in DRN, Liber Primvs, 742-745

Lucretius elsewhere cites the example of sponges, and the argument that motion requires empty space for bodies to move into. Immediately after this passage, Lucretius says:

Then, of the cutting of things they make no end whatever, nor any stopping place for breakage nor any fixed “least size” in all the world … 

Which indicates that Empedocles denied the existence of a-tomoi (atoms, uncuttable particles), but atomism provides a better answer to the questions considered here than the model that posits four primal elements. These arguments must have occupied portions of Hermarchus’ 22 books. 

Empedocles’ Influence on Lucretius

Among the philosophers mentioned and criticized in DRN, Empedocles occupies a larger part than the rest. Lucretius, in Liber Primvs 714-715, argues against “those who think the world is made of four things, composed of fire and earth and air and rain. Chief in their ranks, Empedocles …”, and yet the poet praises Empedocles’ “godlike mind”, a term which he also uses for Epicurus. After praising both the land and the people of his birth, Lucretius says of Empedocles: 

“… yet (the land) had nothing to outshine this man, nothing more saintly, wonderful, beloved. Yes, more: the writings of his godlike mind declare and propound his brilliant theories, so that we scarce believe him born of man.” – Lucretius, in DRN, Liber Primvs, 729-735 

Lucretius then goes on to refer to all the other philosophers he has mentioned recently as “lesser men in a thousand signal ways, inferior far” to Empedocles, and yet all of these thinkers (Empedocles included) 

“… in basic doctrine they came crashing down–great men they were, and great was the fall thereof!” – Lucretius, in DRN, Liber Primvs, 740-741

Why is so much praise mixed into this criticism? I believe it’s because even if the ancient Epicureans were reacting against some of his ideas, we know that they also endorsed and developed some of his other ideas and considered them indispensable within the Epicurean system–as in the case of the belief that evolution occurs by blind natural selection, with nature taking its course as in Taoism, and with no Aristotelian teleology. Therefore, they had to recognize the important advance made by Empedocles when considered against preceding and contemporary thinkers, even if they criticize his errors elsewhere.

Frank Copley, in his translation of De rerum natura (page 18, note 9) goes as far as to argue that Lucretius probably modeled De rerum natura on Empedocles’ On Nature.

Conclusion

There must have been many more discussions in Hermarchus’ 22 books, perhaps criticizing the Orphic, Pythagorean, and mystical tendencies of Empedocles, and celebrating or elaborating some of his other ideas. However, the above should give us clues as to the evolution of ancient thought as it happened among the Epicureans, together with a sense that just as we continue the conversations of Epicurus, Metrodorus, Lucretius, Philodemus, and others when we gather at Eikas, similarly our predecessors were also continuing the conversations of their own predecessors, rejecting some ideas and expanding on their arguments elsewhere, and slowly perfecting their own theories in this manner.

Happy Twentieth: The Lucretian Parable of the Alphabet

Eikas cheers to all! Speaking of the Twentieth feast–this month, Paste magazine published the essay Eikas: The Dinner Party as Philosophy. The author makes the case that traditions like the Twentieth feast help to keep us human, rooted, and connected (particularly during the pandemic).

Our Friend Nate has added his compilation of multiple translations of the Kyriai Doxai in academia.edu as Key Doctrines of Epicurus. This is the most comprehensive compilation of translations of the PDs available.

Other literary updates include the Medium essay Epicurean philosophy as a way of life in Antiquity, and someone found a figurine from that Roman Era in England that they believe is Epicurus: Finds tray – Epicurus figurine.

The Lucretian Parable of the Alphabet

Nunc age dicta meo dulci quaesita labore percipe.

Come now and hear the words I chose with joy and care.

– Lucretius, De rerum natura, Liber Secvndvs, 730

In Atomic Poetics: Lucretius’ De Rerum Natura, Gwendolyn Gruber says:

Atoms are like letters, Lucretius explains in Book 2 of De Rerum Natura. The finite number of various atomic shapes combine to create all the different things in the universe, just as the letters of the alphabet can be recombined in a variety of ways to create different words … This analogy can also be applied to Lucretius’ poetic endeavor. Just as the atoms join to make objects, Lucretius puts letters together to create words, and words together to create poetry. Just as combinations of atoms join to make large things, including the universe, Lucretius connects words and verses to produce a grand epic. In writing De Rerum Natura, Lucretius mimics the activity of the atoms and the poem’s structure can be viewed as a metaphor for Epicurean atomic theory.

As an author and word-smith, I’ve always loved the parable of the alphabet in De rerum natura. In the pen of Lucretius, the elements of nature create poetry, art, medicine, knowledge, values, meaning, and all the other things that letters can create. Nature makes art in the pen of Lucretius. Nature (which includes us) makes culture and artifice in the pen of Lucretius. Here are the relevant passages:

Nay, here in these our verses,
Elements many, common to many words,
Thou seest, though yet ’tis needful to confess
The words and verses differ, each from each,
Compounded out of different elements-
Not since few only, as common letters, run
Through all the words, or no two words are made,
One and the other, from all like elements,
But since they all, as general rule, are not
The same as all. Thus, too, in other things,
Whilst many germs common to many things
There are, yet they, combined among themselves,
Can form new wholes to others quite unlike.

– De rerum natura, Liber Secvndvs, 708-720

And again:

Why, even in these our very verses here
It matters much with what and in what order
Each element is set: the same denote
Sky, and the ocean, lands, and streams, and sun;
The same, the grains, and trees, and living things.
And if not all alike, at least the most-
But what distinctions by positions wrought!
And thus no less in things themselves, when once
Around are changed the intervals between,
The paths of matter, its connections, weights,
Blows, clashings, motions, order, structure, shapes,
The things themselves must likewise changed be.

– De rerum natura, Liber Secvndvs, 1012-1022

Lucretius returned more than once to the metaphor of the alphabet. It had been mentioned casually in Liber Primvs 196-198:

Thus easier ’tis to hold that many things
Have primal bodies in common (as we see
The single letters common to many words)
Than aught exists without its origins.

Now, in order to understand how brilliant this Lucretian parable is, and how it relates to the physics of Epicurus, we must understand that in his Epistle to Herodotus (tmíma/portion 42 in the Laertian division system), Epicurus asserts that there is an infinite number of atoms, but that these atoms assume a finite variety and number of possible combinations.

Furthermore, the atoms, which have no void in them–out of which composite bodies arise and into which they are dissolved–vary indefinitely in their shapes; for so many varieties of things as we see could never have arisen out of a recurrence of a definite number of the same shapes. The like atoms of each shape are absolutely infinite; but the variety of shapes, though indefinitely large, is not absolutely infinite.

Later, in De rerum natura, Liber Secvndvs, 496-499, Lucretius reiterates this by arguing that if elemental particles had infinite varieties of shapes, some of them would be visible to the naked eye, which is not what we observe:

Therefore you have no right to think atoms may vary indefinitely in shape; else you may force some to assume portentous vastness–but this I’ve shown cannot be true.

These particular portions of the Epistle to Herodotus and DRN are the thought-provoking key to developing a clear understanding of the Doctrine of Innumerable Worlds, and Epicurean cosmology in general, but in this essay I’d like to focus on the parable itself.

Nature’s Grammar

Just as each alphabetical system only has on average somewhere between 20-30 letters (“the atomic elements” within the parable) which must be combined to make words, similarly the laws of nature only allow for certain types of particles, and certain forms of atomic combinations:

  • We see that the size and behavior of gas, ocean, and rocky planets depend on factors like access to solar light, pressure, distance from their star, mass accrued, and elements contained. Planets are not rocky if they grow beyond a certain size.
  • We see that each element behaves differently at diverse temperatures: water acts as ice or gas at certain degrees, and so do other elements, which is why on Earth we have a water-ocean and in Titan there are lakes of methane at freezing temperatures.
  • We see that different elements interact differently with each other, some joining together and others repelling each other, according to their properties, etc.

The limits of what is possible are set by the elemental particles and their possible combinations. In this way, the limits set by nature allow us to perceive order in the cosmos and to articulate scientific truths.

In Lucretius’ pen, nature has a grammar. Sometimes elements interact in a manner that is active or dynamic (forming something like a verb within a sentence, which carries the action). Sometimes two bodies interact so that they change each other, like an adjective changes a noun. Sometimes their interaction is so dramatic that they form a new compound word, in the same way that in lichen life-forms, fungi and algae become a single symbiotic life-form-system. The preceding simple nouns have combined.

The rules of nature’s grammar are pragmatically discernible just as our language faculty allow us to make words discernible to us. If you say “QYTP” to someone who speaks Spanish, that person will not make sense of what you’ve said because this particular combination of letters does not produce meaning in Spanish. If you say “sol”, or “luna”, that person will understand that you speak of the sun and the moon because this particular combination of letters produces those meanings. The natural elements are like these letters within the language in which we can read nature.

The idea of nature’s grammar reminds me of the four “letters” that we find in the double strand of DNA: G, T, C, A. They’re not “letters”, they’re molecules, but they operate like letters to create information in our cells, and scientists have always casually compared them to and treated them as letters. They’re only four, and their possible combinations are strictly limited, yet together they form a wonderful variety of life.

One of the things that Lucretius is saying in this parable, is that we can find “meaning” in  the study of nature and in the realism it unveils (since meaning can only be expressed in signs in some way, which are constituted by these elemental “letters”). When in Liber Tertivs, Lucretius explains how scents and chemicals travel in the air and are picked up by the nose, he poetically refers to these particles as “winged words”.

This parable aligns with the Epicurean Guides’ insistence that our words must correspond clearly with the nature of things. This insistence necessitates the conviction that it is indeed possible to express the true nature of things in human language. This belief is part of the philosophical foundation on which this parable stands, and is attested elsewhere in Epicurean writings, even if the methodology needed for this is sometimes admittedly problematic.

An Anti-Skeptic Commentary

Parables are useful, but they cannot replace the true nature of things. One difference between our alphabets and the elements is that, unlike the letters of the alphabet, the elements are not subject to cultural or philosophical relativism. Gravity will always pull our bodies down. H2O molecules will always behave and exist as water in nature’s grammar.

I read in this parable a positive statement of the possibility of pragmatic knowledge–an assertion that we can, indeed, articulate the nature of things with the use of conventional language. This makes it possible to have established scientific theories, as well as orthodox beliefs about the nature of things that are based on the evidence and the study of nature.

One ethically-significant value that is contained in this belief is intellectual honesty, which is essential in an evidence-based philosophical system like ours. To an Epicurean, defense of this belief constitutes a defense of intellectual honesty–which is to say, trust in the evidence of nature, and clarity of speech.

This belief in the possibility of knowledge was and is still rejected by committed Skeptics, who argue that words (signs, to linguists) are not the same as the things they name (signifiers). This is true: language is a cognitive means to apprehend the nature of things. But only mystics and magicians claim that the word is the thing meant: words are signs that refer to the things that are meant or signified. Notice that the prolepsis of the word “signify” (signi-ficare, “sign-making” in verb form) implies that the things that are meant are made into signs. Language is a sign-making technology.

The Epicureans have always insisted on clear speech. Language must be clear in order to fulfill its utility. The concrete signs we use must align clearly with the nature of things.

We also insist that our meaning-making faculty of conceptualization (prolepsis) is part of the Canon, or standard of truth. Since the prolepsis of words derives from an original attestation, words reliably denote something that was at one point empirically available to someone, and words therefore can have empirical and pragmatic origins.

This is not to say that we deny the difficulties we sometimes encounter in this challenge to speak clearly. Case studies concerning the incorrect use of language led the original Epicureans to a process of language reform in the service of clarity, and influenced a “third stage of language development” within the Epicurean theory of language, where philosophers, and experts in various fields of knowledge, develop methods by which they apply the prolepsis of common language to the coining of new words of specialized abstract, scientific, or ethical utility.

An Anti-Nihilist Commentary

Since Epicurus says that philosophy that does not cure the soul is no better than medicine that does not heal the body, we apply the therapeutic interpretation to our sources in order to gain insights about the utility of the Doxai of the Epicurean Guides. This parable contains, in my view, philosophical medicine for the type of nihilism that rejects all values. It argues an ontological realism that says that we have the faculty to discern truths and values in nature. Whatever difficulties we may find in this activity do not justify giving up on the task of articulating the nature of things using language.

Let us use a case study to see how the ethics and physics intersect in our system, producing ethical values from the study of nature that must be part of our hedonic calculus, of our choices and rejections. The value of water is undeniable for humans: we can live without food for 21 days, but we can only survive no more than three days without water. The “value” of H2O is, therefore, not culturally relative. In our bodies, the absence of H2O is experienced as a pain of lack (thirst, and other symptoms in an advance stage), while we observe that a natural measure of the presence of it is experienced as health, vitality, and pleasure. The pleasures and pains produced by H2O molecules in our bodies (or lack thereof) are not a matter of debate, but of physical observation. Access to water is a natural and necessary desire. Each human being needs a certain amount of water to survive. This is why all ancient civilizations emerged alongside water sources and rivers.

Valid and true philosophical and scientific statements that help us to form clear and unerring models of the nature of things have tangible, pragmatic value for how we live and how we plan our lives and communities. We are entering a dangerous time of restricted access to water resources in many places, where the distinction between the necessary desires and unnecessary or arbitrary ones will become painfully clear to many. There’s talk of water wars in the future (although the water wars have already happened in places like Bolivia), and access to this basic resource will increasingly become a prominent economic, ethical and political issue in the coming decades.

Thanks to the constitution of our bodies and our particular faculties, certain values exist in nature. In this way, the Epicurean “study of nature” has an acidic effect on nihilism (if you’ll indulge my chemistry metaphor), if nihilism is defined as the complete absence of definite and clear values.

The Elements of Right Living

There is another way in which this philosophical application of physics insights in the realm of ethics fights nihilism: it creates concrete pleasures, values, and meaning. Epicurus refers to the contents of his Epistle to Menoeceus as comprising the “elements of right living” … which–just like the elements of nature–must be incorporated and constituted together, so that we live ethical and pleasant lives.

Small things show the likeness of larger and the steps that lead to knowledge. – Lucretius, De rerum natura, Liber Secvndvs, 123-124

Elements combine to form bodies of greater and greater complexity, which in turn at greater magnitudes show specific emergent properties. Similarly, large projects must be tackled in the details, in the small things, day by day, moment by moment. Great works are not completed in a day. By applying this model of elemental combination–and the emergence paradigm–to our choices and rejections, to how we plan our lives, we may more efficiently accomplish great works in the long term.

Norman DeWitt ascribed the following proverb to Epicurean philosophy: “The unplanned life is not worth living“. Even philosophers of nihilistic tendency, like many Existentialists, argue that we can create meaning and value by enacting existential projects that render our lives pleasant, meaningful, and complete. Planning requires concrete combinations of many elements.

A Grammar of Salvific Pleasure

The self-referential comparison of the verses in De rerum natura to honey in Liber Qvartvs 9-25 means to sweeten the harsh medicine of philosophy, points to pleasure / sweetness as an ethical point of reference, and asserts that it is possible to combine elemental letters into philosophical and ethical medicine. Here is the Lucretian passage:

First, since I teach concerning mighty things,
And go right on to loose from round the mind
The tightened coils of dread religion;
Next, since, concerning themes so dark, I frame
Song so pellucid, touching all throughout
Even with the Muses’ charm- which, as ‘twould seem,
Is not without a reasonable ground:
For as physicians, when they seek to give
Young boys the nauseous wormwood, first do touch
The brim around the cup with the sweet juice
And yellow of the honey, in order that
The thoughtless age of boyhood be cajoled
As far as the lips, and meanwhile swallow down
The wormwood’s bitter draught, and, though befooled,
Be yet not merely duped, but rather thus
Grow strong again with recreated health:
So now I too (since this my doctrine seems
In general somewhat woeful unto those
Who’ve had it not in hand, and since the crowd
Starts back from it in horror) have desired
To expound our doctrine unto thee in song
Soft-speaking and Pierian, and, as ’twere,
To touch it with sweet honey of the Muse-
If by such method haply I might hold
The mind of thee upon these lines of ours,
Till thou dost learn the nature of all things
And understandest their utility.

This passage concerns the nature of true and therapeutic philosophy itself, which is concretely made up of these words that Lucretius has smeared in poetic honey. He elsewhere refers to Epicurus’ words as “Aurea Dicta” (golden words … worthy of immortal life), and compares them to ambrosia, the nectar of immortality.

In Vatican Saying 41, the Scholarch Hermarchus outlines a practice that involves concrete utterances being spoken out-loud (phonás aphientas, scattered sounds). Philodemus, too, said that the medicine of true philosophy is found in its healing words. Since the Epicurean Guides have an agenda of healing the souls, the parable of the alphabet is more than a passive contemplation of theory: it’s a dynamic part of a salvific toolkit. Epicurus and Lucretius are like shamanic guides who combine letters and words to make philosophical cures for the soul.

In the pen of Lucretius, poetry can be more than poetry. Art can be more than art. Some word combinations may heal nihilistic tendencies, or cure our fears. They may have a superior potency, a medicinal use, but there’s nothing mystical about them: they’re still made up of the same elemental letters as every other word.