Reading Art Book Club: Boethius' Consolation of Philosophy, Book 2

In this week's recap + discussion, Philosophy deals with the fickleness of Fortune, humanity's fair-weather friend

This is the second recap post in the first-ever round of the Reading Art Book Club, where we’ll be reading Boethius’ Consolation of Philosophy a book at a time. Please keep reading for a full summary, or scroll to the bottom for the TLDR + some discussion questions. Thank you so much for being here!

Congratulations on finishing TWO weeks of Boethius Book Club! It’s pretty easy to start a philosophical text and then quickly give up (just me?), so good for you for continuing on.

And—I hope—you didn’t regret persisting with Boethius and Philosophy. As much as I loved Book 1 and Philosophy’s dramatic entrance into Boethius’ prison cell, Book 2 is where things start to get really interesting.

For this week, the major overarching theme of Book 2 is Fortune and her role in human life. Which feels very on point for modernity as well! Since, as we all know, nobody on this earth has ever experienced a life that is 100% wonderful and joyful all the time. We don’t need to be locked in a tower awaiting execution at the hands of a tyrant to benefit from the simple truths that Philosophy discusses in this week’s reading.

Let’s just jump right in. As we know, Boethius was very much experiencing a downturn of fortune compared to the earlier parts of his life, in which he enjoyed prestige, wealth, and power. What should he do now that things have so utterly changed? Before Philosophy can give him the most effective medicine possible for his spiritual and emotional afflictions, she decides to lead with something gentler: a discussion of the mutability of all things, and particularly of human fortune.

Like Philosophy, Fortune too is personified as a woman, and one whom many people rely on their entire lives to guarantee their happiness and prosperity.

But Fortune never likes to stay in one place for too long—she’s always turning the wheel of fate, bringing good and bad in turns to human lives.

I love this manuscript illumination of the Fortune described in the Consolation, turning the wheel:

Getty

As you can see, there’s a man in a crown at the top of the wheel, but he’s going to tumble down to the bottom in due course, all according to Fortune’s whims. This is the subject of Poem 1, spoken by Philosophy: no matter how much havoc she causes, Fortune is happy; she views human life as a mere “game” for her enjoyment.

Speaking of Fortune, Philosophy remarks (Watts pg. 23):

Change is her normal behaviour, her true nature. In the very act of changing she has preserved her own particular kind of constancy towards you. he was exactly the same when she was flattering you and luring you on with enticements of a false kind of happiness…if you shudder to think of her unreliability, you must turn away and have nothing more to do with her dangerous games.

So—we can opt out of Fortune’s fickleness? How could this possibly be the case? After all, a lot of things in life are arguably unavoidable, like being falsely accused of plotting against the king.

Before Philosophy can answer this critical question, she has to help Boethius understand how he got into this mess in the first place. In order to do so, she imagines what Fortune would say to Boethius (Watts pg. 25):

“You have been receiving a favor as one who has had the use of another’s possessions, and you have no right to complain as if what you have lost was fully your own. You have no cause to begin groaning at me: I have done you no violence. Wealth, honours, and the like are all under my jurisdiction…Shall man’s insatiable greed bind me to a constancy which is alien to my ways?”

When good things happen to us in life, we cannot count them as our own—and, when we get hooked on good fortune, nothing is ever satisfactory: we always want more and more good fortune! This is the topic of both Poem 2 and Poem 3. Nothing in nature is permanent: storms rage and then fall calm, the seas churn and then rest in tranquility, roses bloom and then die and then bloom again. When we feel an excessive greed for the best parts of life, we become unable to enjoy them, and to keep the needed perspective to stay strong during the more challenging seasons.

In turn, Fortune’s mutability is GOOD, because it means that in bad times we have hope of brighter days ahead. Deep down, humanity knows this to be true. So, says Philosophy, “Why behave like a stranger newly arrived on the stage of life?” (Watts 28), forcing Boethius to admit that she is correct: if things always stayed the same, the odds of getting stuck in a miserable condition would be much higher.

But he makes the point that of all terrible sufferings, the worst is “once to have been happy,” i.e. to have been happy in the past, but no longer (Watts pg. 29).

This too is a misunderstanding of how to look at the things that happen in our lives.

The real blessings of God, says Philosophy, are Boethius’ family, who are safe and who love him and who are aggrieved for him in his current wretchedness (Watts pg. 30). This is the first time in the book that God makes a significant appearance, and this is the point where Philosophy really starts instructing Boethius in how the divine intended for humans to live: a life that is grounded in not focusing on the external, but on the internal (Watts pg. 31):

Why then do you mortal men seek after happiness outside yourselves, when it lies within you? You are led astray by error and ignorance.

This line of thinking is heavily indebted to Stoicism, which theorizes that, although many good and bad things happen to humans, we cannot actually count the turns of fortune as good or bad: they are simply neutral. The only true good is virtue, and the only true bad is vice. All else is ambiguous—neither good nor bad.

Indeed, in Poem 5 (Watts pg. 32-33), Philosophy recommends that people basically opt out of the chaos of human affairs, and weather storms with equanimity, all the while keeping a safe distance emotionally. This is what will allow us to “lead a life serene/ and smile at the raging storm.”

This sounds to me a little bit easier said than done, but maybe it’s like ripping off a Bandaid—once you do it, then it feels better, but the buildup to that moment feels impossible. But I have to say that I found myself nodding in agreement with many of Philosophy’s points.

Things like wealth, power, and even natural beauty really have nothing to do with human striving and everything to do with Fortune—and, moreover, since wealth inherently involves taking something away from others (if you hoard it, others can’t have it, and if you give it all away, you can’t have it either), it is no true source of either virtue or happiness either. In fact, wealth often harms its owners; back in the good old days, before all that, humans were much happier, a point Philosophy goes on to make expressly in Poem 6 (Watts pg. 36-37).

This seems like an even more significant idea in today’s world! I was struck by the terms in which Philosophy puts it. I have to admit also that this little philosophical tune-up did in fact make me feel better as I’m in the midst of job hunting post-PhD graduation. But I digress.

Although Philosophy doesn’t put it in these terms, what she’s getting at is the age-old Stoic adage to live according to nature, and not to concern oneself with things outside of one’s control (Watts pg. 35-36):

Other creatures are content with what is their own, but you, whose mind is made in the image of God, seek to adorn you superior nature with inferior objects, oblivious of the great wrong you do your Creator. It was His will that the human race should rule all earthly creatures, but you have degraded yourself to a position beneath the lowest of all. If every good is agreed to be more valuable than whatever it belong to, then by your own judgement when you account the most worthless of objects as goods of yours, you make yourself lower than those very things, and it is no less than you deserve. Indeed, the condition of human nature is just this; man towers above the rest of creation so long as he recognizes his own nature, and when he forgets it, he sinks lower than the beasts.

Humans may be like God in all the important ways, but this is easy to forget, just as Boethius has done.

[A brief side note to say that this is an early Christian thinker, and Christian theology is going to be even more prominent in the rest of the books. In the ancient world, and indeed well into the Middle Ages and Renaissance, philosophy and science were in many cases deeply entwined with religious practice and devotion. If you’ve read this far, you know all this, but I wanted to flag it if this is the first week you’re joining!]

Next, Philosophy moves onto the topic of power, which Boethius had in spades before his downfall. Because power causes arrogance and pride, it too cannot be counted as something good, or something that really belongs to humanity at all. If anyone has power in the universe, it is God, not humanity.

One thing to highlight here is that Philosophy brings in the example of Zeno, who was tortured by the tyrant Nearchus. In an act of defiance, Zeno bit off his own tongue and then spat it out at Nearchus. You can see the clear parallels that, perhaps, Boethius wishes to make with his own situation. Even in his time of maximal desperation and despair, Boethius still cares about setting himself up as a philosophical authority, and puts himself in an intellectual lineage among Socrates and other intellectuals who essentially became martyrs for philosophical (and, in Boethius’ case, Christian) wisdom.

So, now we’ve established that Fortune “has nothing worth pursuing, and no trace of intrinsic good” (Watts pg. 40). In Poem 7, Philosophy recalls the mad emperor Nero, whom Fortune laid low—notably, Nero was the one who ordered the death of his tutor, Stoic philosopher Seneca the Younger, an episode of history that is not mentioned here expressly but is another subtle instance in which Boethius wants to make himself part of this long line of philosophers who died for their ideas.

For a long stretch, Boethius and Philosophy go back and forth. Boethius never meant for his power to be a detriment; he intended only good, and a noble legacy.

But fame and power cannot create true immortality, Philosophy rebukes him, reminding him in prose and in Poem 8 that death is the “leveller” (Watts pg. 43) of all, and moreover nobody can guarantee that he or she will be remembered at all.

To sum up, Philosophy states (Watts pg. 44):

For bad fortune, I think is more use to a man than good fortune. Good fortune always seems to bring happiness, but deceives you with her smiles, whereas bad fortune is always truthful because by change she shows her true fickleness. Good fortune deceives, but bad fortune enlightens.

Well, maybe that makes us feel a little better about terrible things happening. It makes us stronger, anyway!

Next, Philosophy offers more tangible advice for weathering life’s storms. In life, the most precious thing of all is our relationships with friends and family. This is a key point that Boethius must seek to remember.

Indeed, in Poem 9 Philosophy finally reveals the true guiding force of the cosmos: Love.

After a book in which God has featured quite prominently, it’s more than reasonable to read Love as a metaphor for God, or a reference to the idea that God is Love. Still, the poem is reminiscent of the ideas set forth by pre-Socratic philosopher Empedocles, who believed that all things in the universe happened because of the opposing forces of Love and Strife. In this way, Boethius continues to draw on both Christian and pre-Christian thought to style himself as “one of the ancients,” yet also a pious believer.

It might sound cheesy, but I found Poem 9 to be really touching, as was the timely reminder that love is the most important thing of all in this life. No matter what happens, the only thing that really matters is the love we both receive from others and send out into the world.

Onwards to Book 3! We’ll see how Boethius responds, and whether or not he’s finally starting to feel some sense of consolation.

…

TLDR

1. Fortune is unreliable, and our own greed for pleasant experiences, wealth, power, and more makes us miserable, because we do not accept Fortune’s inherent fickleness.

   1. God is steadfast and constant. It is best to stop worshipping good fortune and turn inward to where true virtue and happiness lies.

2. Bad things can actually be thought of as a benefit to humans, as it allows them to become stronger and more grounded in a state of virtue.

3. Love guides all things in the cosmos. When we remember that truth, things become easier to bear.

DISCUSSION QUESTIONS

1. Why does Philosophy portray Fortune as a fickle woman who loves causing chaos? (Or is this not a fair representation of what she meant?) How might ideas about predestination or free will factor into this discussion about fate/fortune?

2. Do you agree with Boethius’ statement that the most miserable person is one who has BEEN happy in the past, but is no longer happy now? What about Philosophy’s assertion that remembering the good things and blessings in our life is helpful?

3. How, if at all, does the fact that Boethius actually never got out of prison and was executed change our interpretation of Philosophy’s words? What does that sense of dramatic irony do for the text?

Thank you so much again for joining me on this journey through Boethius’ classic philosophical text! I would love to hear your questions, comments, and thoughts in the discussion below. And if you know of anyone who would like to join us, please share this series with them!

Take care until next time,

MKA