~by David Aiken~
§ 2
“Ench”, 1.16.1.1
TRANSLATION (AIKEN)— Whenever you happen
to see someone weeping loudly in sorrow, either because his child is absent and
travelling far from home, or because his personal circumstances are in desperate
straits, (2) be on your guard not to be carried away by ‘appearances’—thereby
concluding that the person is in those sorrowful or dire circumstances because he
is the victim of actions that are outside of himself. (3) Rather, let us be first
ready to think, with respect to this person and his distress, that (4) it is
not the outside event that is afflicting
him (for it is not afflicting anyone else), but rather, that it is the personal
attitude one has about these things, which is causing the sorrow.
So, (5) while you
certainly should not hesitate to sympathize with this person in words, nor
should you be afraid to engage in conversation with him, and even, should it so
happen, to commiserate together. But continue nevertheless to be on your guard (7)
so that you do not also grieve, as
well, from within yourself.
2 “Ench”, 1.16.1.1
(1) Ὅταν κλαίοντα ἴδῃς ἐν πένθει ἢ ἀποδημοῦντος τέκνου ἢ (1)
ἀπολωλεκότα τὰ ἑαυτοῦ, πρόσεχε μή σε ἡ φαντασία συναρπάσῃ
ὡς ἐν κακοῖς ὄντος αὐτοῦ τοῖς ἐκτός, (3) ἀλλ’ εὐθὺς ἔστω πρόχειρον
ὅτι “τοῦτον θλίβει οὐ τὸ συμβεβηκός (ἄλλον γὰρ οὐ θλίβει), ἀλλὰ
τὸ δόγμα τὸ περὶ τούτων.” μέχρι μέντοι λόγου μὴ ὄκνει συμπερι- (5)
φέρεσθαι αὐτῷ, κἂν οὕτω τύχῃ, συνεπιστενάξαι· πρόσεχε μέντοι μὴ
καὶ ἔσωθεν στενάξῃς.
ἀπολωλεκότα τὰ ἑαυτοῦ, πρόσεχε μή σε ἡ φαντασία συναρπάσῃ
ὡς ἐν κακοῖς ὄντος αὐτοῦ τοῖς ἐκτός, (3) ἀλλ’ εὐθὺς ἔστω πρόχειρον
ὅτι “τοῦτον θλίβει οὐ τὸ συμβεβηκός (ἄλλον γὰρ οὐ θλίβει), ἀλλὰ
τὸ δόγμα τὸ περὶ τούτων.” μέχρι μέντοι λόγου μὴ ὄκνει συμπερι- (5)
φέρεσθαι αὐτῷ, κἂν οὕτω τύχῃ, συνεπιστενάξαι· πρόσεχε μέντοι μὴ
καὶ ἔσωθεν στενάξῃς.
16. When you see anyone weeping in grief because his son has
gone abroad, or is dead, or because he has suffered in his affairs, be careful that the appearance may not misdirect you. Instead,
distinguish within your own mind, and be prepared to say,
"It's not the accident that distresses this person.,
because it doesn't distress another person; it is the judgment
which he makes about it." As far as words go, however, don't
reduce yourself to his level, and certainly do not moan with him. Do
not moan inwardly either.
§
A note on Ms. Carter’s translation
Ms. Carter’s translation of the opening phrase gives
us a choice between two reasons for the person’s grief, either he is “weeping… in
grief because his son has gone abroad,” or because his son is dead. However, there does not seem to be any second-level or metaphorical
sense behind ‘his son has gone abroad’ in our Epictetian text (ln. 1= apodemountos
/ ἀποδημοῦντος), which would
justify adding the phrase “or is dead.” Apodemountos has the sense of: to
be away from home, be abroad or on one’s travels; of foreign service; or
metaphorically, simply to be absent (but not necessarily in the sense of ‘dead
absent’). Epictetus’ use of ‘grieving’ (en
penthei = ἐν πένθει) seems to be in a
true and original Greek cultural sense of a parent who grieves that his child
is traveling far from home in foreign climes. A more emphatic second-level
reading, of grieving for the death of a son, although the expression would remain
the same, seems an unjustified, because unnecessary conclusion from this text.
That said, for an entertaining and truly second-level
illustration of this expression, Metrodorus, the grammarian (ca. 6th
AD), tells a story about a certain Diophantus who grieved for the loss of his
son who died (Greek Anthology 126, pp.
93-95; Loeb, trans. WR Paton, Vol. V, London: Heinemann 1918). Metrodorus relates
famously, in a mathematical riddle, this ‘other’ death-related grieving
that is afflicting Diophantus! Per the Wikisource, the riddle goes like this:
'Here
lies Diophantus,' the wonder behold.
Through
art algebraic, the stone tells how old:
'God
gave him his boyhood one-sixth of his life,
One
twelfth more as youth while whiskers grew rife;
And
then yet one-seventh ere marriage begun;
In
five years there came a bouncing new son.
Alas,
the dear child of master and sage
After
attaining half the measure of his father's life chill fate took him. After
consoling his fate by the science of numbers for four years, he ended his
life.'
This puzzle implies that Diophantus' age x can be
expressed as x = x/6 + x/12 + x/7 + 5
+ x/2 + 4, which gives x a value of 84 years. However, the accuracy of the
information cannot be independently confirmed.
Which
brings us back again full circle to Ms. Carter’s unnecessary and gratuitous addendum.
Our text from Epictetus reads simply: “Whenever you happen to see someone
weeping loudly in sorrow” for either of the following two reasons: “either
because his child is absent and traveling far from home, or because his
personal circumstances are in desperate straits,” then be on your guard.
The image in line 2 is luscious: “be on
your guard not to be carried away by ‘appearances’ [prosexe me se e
phantasia sunarpase = πρόσεχε μή σε ἡ φαντασία συναρπάσῃ].”
(2)
be on your guard not to be carried away by ‘appearances’—thereby concluding
that the person is in those sorrowful or dire circumstances because he is the
victim of actions that are outside of himself.
After
the ‘be on your guard not’ bit [= πρόσεχε μή σε], the subject of the sentence
is phantasia [ἡ φαντασία]. So, the image here is that, if you are not
paying careful attention, your phantasia will literally pick you up and cart
you off unceremoniously like one of the unfortunate Sabine women of Roman lore.
So, a literal ‘don’t let the phantasia carry you away’ yields in Phrontisterionese,
“be on your guard not to be carried away by ‘appearances (phantasia).”
Phantasia is a big word for Stoics in general, which
Phrontisterion has treated more extensively elsewhere. But to encapsulate:
Ҥ A Fantastical
Excursus. On the question of phantasion,
a genitive plural from phantasia [φαντασία], and which means appearances or surface level, its use is rather straight-forward in
our text here from Epictetus, in that it is juxtaposed with the deeper, more
radical and fundamental sense of kata
phusin [kata» fu/sin].
Essentially, phantasia has everything to
do with superficiality and appearances – what one perceives or sees; the
external and transient aspects of a thing; its accidental versus its essential
qualities, to put a dandy Aristotelian spin on it.
That
said, however, phantasia is a rather magnificent word all in all, and covers lots of territory
in Greek literature, from the philosophically rich to the quotidian and
banal, encompassing phenomena such as ghosts, things invented, imagination,
etc. Were he to have translated himself into ancient Greek, for example,
Immanuel Kant would definitely have used phantasia to translate his
noumenal sense of Verstandeswesen or Hirngespinste (Prolegomena
zu einer jeden künftigen Metaphysik, 13: 292).
All
of that mouthful rehashed, however, the use of phantasia here
in Enchiridion §16 does not seem to be especially formal or
epistemologically restrained. Rather, its use seems to be precociously
phenomenological: from the point of view of the simple human observer to any
given situation, we tend to draw conclusions about what it is we think we are
observing. The issue, then, if issue there is in this text, is whether our
conclusions are overly hasty, and thereby incorrect, because we have
interpreted inappropriately the event to which we have been privy. So, in the
line-up of imperatives:
1. Ln. 2. “Be on your guard not…” [prosexe me se = πρόσεχε μή σε] is
a 2nd person
singular present active imperative. And we are asked to watch that we do not
allow ourselves to become persuaded [to be snatched and
carried away; to be carried
clean away; metaph., carry away with or by persuasive arguments] “not to
be carried away by ‘appearances’ [e
phantasia sunarpase = ἡ φαντασία συναρπάσῃ].]
2. Ln. 4. “Rather, let one be simply/directly/immediately ready
[let it be easy = ἀλλ’ εὐθὺς ἔστω πρόχειρον ὅτι…]
3. Ln. 5-6. τὸ δόγμα [feeling / judgment] ; do not hesitate [imperative] ; [adapt yourself;
accommodate] ; [but do not be afraid to engage in
conversation with him]
4. Ln. 7. “be on your guard” [πρόσεχε μέντοι μὴ = 2nd sg pres
imperat act]
TRANSLATION
(AIKEN)— Whenever you happen to see someone
weeping loudly in sorrow, either because his child is absent and traveling far
from home, or because his personal circumstances are in desperate straits, (2) be on your guard not to be carried away by
‘appearances’—thereby concluding that the person is in those sorrowful or dire
circumstances because he is the victim of actions that are outside of himself.
(3) Rather, let us be first ready to think, with
respect to this person and his distress, that (4) it is not the outside event that is afflicting him
(for it is not afflicting anyone else), but rather, that it is the personal
attitude one has about these things, which is causing the sorrow.
So, (5) while you certainly
should not hesitate to sympathize with this person in words, nor should you be afraid to engage in conversation with him,
and even, should it so happen, to commiserate together. But continue nevertheless to be on your guard (7) so that you do not also grieve, as well, from within yourself.
(1) Ὅταν κλαίοντα ἴδῃς ἐν πένθει ἢ ἀποδημοῦντος τέκνου ἢ (1)
ἀπολωλεκότα τὰ ἑαυτοῦ, πρόσεχε μή σε ἡ φαντασία συναρπάσῃ
ὡς ἐν κακοῖς ὄντος αὐτοῦ τοῖς ἐκτός, (3) ἀλλ’ εὐθὺς ἔστω πρόχειρον
ὅτι “τοῦτον θλίβει οὐ τὸ συμβεβηκός (ἄλλον γὰρ οὐ θλίβει), ἀλλὰ
τὸ δόγμα τὸ περὶ τούτων.” μέχρι μέντοι λόγου μὴ ὄκνει συμπερι- (5)
φέρεσθαι αὐτῷ, κἂν οὕτω τύχῃ, συνεπιστενάξαι· πρόσεχε μέντοι μὴ
καὶ ἔσωθεν στενάξῃς.
ἀπολωλεκότα τὰ ἑαυτοῦ, πρόσεχε μή σε ἡ φαντασία συναρπάσῃ
ὡς ἐν κακοῖς ὄντος αὐτοῦ τοῖς ἐκτός, (3) ἀλλ’ εὐθὺς ἔστω πρόχειρον
ὅτι “τοῦτον θλίβει οὐ τὸ συμβεβηκός (ἄλλον γὰρ οὐ θλίβει), ἀλλὰ
τὸ δόγμα τὸ περὶ τούτων.” μέχρι μέντοι λόγου μὴ ὄκνει συμπερι- (5)
φέρεσθαι αὐτῷ, κἂν οὕτω τύχῃ, συνεπιστενάξαι· πρόσεχε μέντοι μὴ
καὶ ἔσωθεν στενάξῃς.
§
On the nature of World.
We do not have direct access either to the
truth or to the fact of worldliness. So, for Epictetus it is imperative that each
one of us pays attention to interpret, as carefully and correctly as we can,
events that we perceive. We players on the world stage evolve, individually,
inside the context of {worldliness—exteriority + perception—interiority}. And
in this complex and mostly muddled relationship we have with World, we discover
external events and situations that Life brings our way as they reveal
themselves to us in moments of internal emotional response. But appearances are
deceptive; and our emotions, for better and for worse, are very poor indicators
of accuracy, and unreliable teachers of truth.
The Stoicism of Epictetus is not unique in seeking
to discourage us from trusting in our emotional responses and our emotional
attachments to events. Equally, in its interest to lead us toward a spirit of
detachment, Buddhism speaks to us of tanha, which derives from a concept that
describes ‘thirst, desire, longing, and greed’, which can be both physical and
mental. According to Buddhist thinking, tanha is conceived of as an originating
link in the chain of inevitability leading to dukkha, which is to say suffering and pain, which
in turn commits us to the relentless cycle of samsara, repetitive becoming and
dying. Tanha, says our wiki-source,
reflects
a mental state of craving. Greater the craving, more is the frustration because
the world is always changing and innately unsatisfactory; craving also brings
about pain through conflict and quarrels between individuals, which are all a
state of Dukkha.
So,
there are both Western and Eastern thought traditions that seek to persuade us
not to be led astray or ravished by our emotional responses to World. Epictetus
expresses this idea as the mind’s philosophical liberation from tyranny. According
to Starr ("Epictetus and the Tyrant,” 23-24)
What Epictetus then gave to his students was the Stoic doctrine, very
much as Musonius and Seneca had given it in the past two generations; but the
emphasis of Epictetus was subtly different from that of his predecessors. He
was not concerned with death and wealth, as was the aging, wealthy Seneca; nor
did he echo Musonius' idealism and humanitarianism in discoursing on social
relationships. The issue before Epictetus was at once higher and narrower, that
of freedom. By Oldfather's count, the concept of freedom appears some one
hundred and thirty times in Epictetus, or six times as frequently as in the New
Testament. Epictetus' doctrine of freedom was again that of the Stoa, and we
can parallel much of what he says in Seneca or in Musonius; still, in Epictetus
the doctrine appears with a greater intensity than in any other Stoic. Freedom
lies within the individual; the ills of the world cannot assail that inner
freedom.
§ Appearances that deceive from outside.
The vast majority of the moral applications of this
idea in the West, such as those found in the NT or in the fabulizing literature
of Aesop and La Fontaine, revolve around the idea that someone or something outside
of ourselves, perhaps even something as abstract as Descartes’ concept of a mauvais génie, is attempting to
deceive us, about something, with some degree of deliberation. This is the
stuff of farce and tragedy; and entirely banal because unexceptional. In a
World full of appearances, it is in fact the quotidian of human perception to
mis-take.
In the Bible, for the pristine example, there are any
number of stories that seek, like our text from Epictetus, to put us on our
guard from intended as well as unintended deceptive appearances that come to us
from outside ourselves, when we misinterpret or misread the signs concerning events
that we see.
· In the OT book of I
Samuel (Chapter 1) Hannah is introduced as part of the family of Elkanah, one
of two wives, and unable to have children. The other wife, Peninnah, is
described as her rival (1:6), and she has had a number of children (1:2, 4).
This rivalry went on for a number of years, until on one occasion Hannah rushed
to the tabernacle to poor out her grief before the Lord (1:10). Although the
reader, the observer to this story, has the benefit of the narrative backstory about
Hannah, and thus knows that Eli the priest only knows what he sees and does not
have any of Hannah’s actual story. He sees only a desperate woman praying. So,
based on appearances, Eli jumps to the conclusion that Hannah is drunk, and he rebukes
her drunkenness (1:13-14). Hannah of course responds that she is not drunk, but
only lamenting and wanting to pour her soul out to the Lord (1:16). At which
point Eli offers her words of blessing (1:17).
· In the NT Jesus
warns to ‘judge not, that you be not judged’ (Matt. 7:1); and the story of Eli
misinterpreting, and then taking the time to rethink, and to be willing to
reinterpret correctly the actions of Hannah, is perhaps the best illustration
of the meaning and purpose of that latter injunction. The story of Eli and
Hannah is a comedic illustration of Jesus’ command ‘to not judge’ in the sense
that it has a happy ending, because Eli admits his mistake, changes his
thinking, and goes on to form a lasting bond with Hannah and her family
(2:19-20). But it goes without saying that happy endings are not the necessary
or inevitable outcome for when we misread events.
There are any number of other biblical admonitions that agree with
Epictetus’ caution against jumping to hasty conclusions:
· “These have indeed
an appearance of wisdom in promoting self-made religion and asceticism and
severity to the body, but they are of no value in stopping the indulgence of
the flesh” (Col. 2:23).
· “Beware of the
false prophets, who come to you in sheep’s clothing, but inwardly are ravenous
wolves” (Matthew 7:15).
· “For such men are
false apostles, deceitful workers, disguising themselves as apostles of Christ.
No wonder, for even Satan disguises himself as an angel of light. Therefore, it
is not surprising if his servants also disguise themselves as servants of
righteousness, whose end will be according to their deeds” (2 Corinthians
11:13-15).
· “Do not judge
according to appearance, but judge with righteous judgment” (John 7:24).
There is also a plethora of other proverbial
wisdom literature that agrees in spirit with Epictetus’ warning to be
on your guard not to be carried away by appearances. The clear moral of the
story of one of Aesop’s fables, for example, The Ant and the Chrysalis, is that appearances are deceptive.
An Ant nimbly running about in
the sunshine in search of food came
across a Chrysalis that was very near its time of change. The
Chrysalis moved its tail, and thus attracted the attention of the Ant,
who then saw for the first time that it was alive. "Poor, pitiable
animal!" cried the Ant disdainfully. "What a sad fate is
yours!
While I can run hither and thither, at my pleasure, and, if I wish,
ascend the tallest tree, you lie imprisoned here in your shell, with
power only to move a joint or two of your scaly tail." The
Chrysalis
heard all this, but did not try to make any reply. A few days after,
when the Ant passed that way again, nothing but the shell remained.
Wondering what had become of its contents, he felt himself suddenly
shaded and fanned by the gorgeous wings of a beautiful Butterfly.
"Behold in me," said the Butterfly, "your much-pitied
friend! Boast
now of your powers to run and climb as long as you can get me to
listen." So saying, the Butterfly rose in the air, and, borne along
and aloft on the summer breeze, was soon lost to the sight of the
Ant forever.
In a variation on the same proverbial trope, Jean de la Fontaine reminds
us repeatedly that, “Of fables judge not by their face; They give the simplest
brute a teacher’s place” (The Shepherd and the Lion). For example, he
entertains us in this sense with his fable of THE ASS IN LION'S SKIN (V,21):
An
ass clad in a lion's skin,
Spread terror all around,
And though he was an ass within,
Each trembled at the sound!
A portion of Jack's ear by chance peeped through,
And the whole trick at once exposed to view.
Ralph with a cudgel did his office quick,
Wild stared the folks who did not know the trick.
They were surprised to see that Ralph, at will,
Could drive a lion to the mill.
Spread terror all around,
And though he was an ass within,
Each trembled at the sound!
A portion of Jack's ear by chance peeped through,
And the whole trick at once exposed to view.
Ralph with a cudgel did his office quick,
Wild stared the folks who did not know the trick.
They were surprised to see that Ralph, at will,
Could drive a lion to the mill.
Many great people famed in
France,
By whom this apologue's familial- grown,
By whom this apologue's familial- grown,
Are
chiefly for their courage known
By the bold equipage in which they prance.
By the bold equipage in which they prance.
A youthful mouse, not up
to trap,
Had almost met a sad
mishap.
The story hear him thus
relate,
With great importance, to
his mother:—
‘I pass’d the mountain
bounds of this estate,
And off was trotting on
another,
Like some young rat with
nought to do
But see things wonderful
and new,
When two strange creatures
came in view.
The one was mild, benign,
and gracious;
The other, turbulent,
rapacious,
With voice terrific,
shrill, and rough,
And on his head a bit of
stuff
That look’d like raw and
bloody meat,
Raised up a sort of arms,
and beat
The air, as if he meant to
fly,
And bore his plumy tail on
high.’
A cock, that just began to
crow,
As if some nondescript,
From far New Holland
shipp’d,
Was what our mousling
pictured so.
‘He beat his arms,’ said
he, ‘and raised his voice,
And made so terrible a
noise,
That I, who, thanks to Heaven,
may justly boast
Myself as bold as any
mouse,
Scud off, (his voice would
even scare a ghost!)
And cursed himself and all
his house;
For, but for him, I should
have staid,
And doubtless an
acquaintance made
With her who seem’d so
mild and good.
Like us, in velvet cloak
and hood,
She wears a tail that’s
full of grace,
A very sweet and humble
face, —
No mouse more kindness
could desire, —
And yet her eye is full of
fire.
I do believe the lovely
creature
A friend of rats and mice
by nature.
Her ears, though, like
herself, they’re bigger,
Are just like ours in form
and figure.
To her I was approaching,
when,
Aloft on what appear’d his
den,
The other scream’d, — and
off I fled.’
‘My son,’ his cautious
mother said,
‘That sweet one was the
cat,
The mortal foe of mouse
and rat,
Who seeks by smooth
deceit,
Her appetite to treat.
So far the other is from
that,
We yet may eat
His dainty meat;
Whereas the cruel cat,
Whene’er she can, devours
No other meat than ours.’
And the moral of this
tale? Remember while you live,
It is by looks that men
deceive.
§ Deceptions from the inside and the philosophical moment.
As was suggested earlier, most of the moral
applications of this idea in Western literature revolve around the idea that deception
comes to the observer from the outside, from World. The world is a deceptive
place; its deception, or illusory nature, is banal because run-of-the-mill, the
stuff of farce and tragedy. Epictetus, however, does not seem here in §16 to be
solely concerned with those who try to deliberately mislead or gaslight us
concerning the meaning of what we think we are observing in the world. Rather,
he is additionally concerned with the much more philosophically rich idea that
we might also, in fact, be deceiving ourselves. As we observe the world flow
by, Epictetus encourages us not just to rely on what we think our body is
perceiving. “Rather,” he says in
line 3,
let us be first ready to think, with respect to this person and his distress,
that (4) it is not the outside event that is afflicting him (for it is not
afflicting anyone else), but rather, that it is the personal attitude one has
about these things, which is causing the sorrow.
So, (5) while you certainly should not hesitate
to sympathize with this person in words, nor should you be afraid to engage in
conversation with him, and even, should it so happen, to commiserate together.
But continue nevertheless to be on your guard (7) so that you do not also
grieve, as well, from within yourself.
The verbal phrase used by Epictetus here in line 3, which Phrontisterion
has rendered as let us be
first ready to think
(proxeiron [estin] = πρόχειρόν [ἐστι]), does not literally mean to think, as we who are accustomed to post-Kantian
categories of interpreting mental activities are commonly wont to understand
the expression. Rather, Epictetus uses here a 3rd person present active
hortatory or admonishing subjunctive of the ‘to be’ verb [esto = ἔστω], which invites us to ‘let it be’ (esto) instantly easy [ἀλλ’ εὐθὺς ἔστω πρόχειρον] (proxeiron
[estin] = πρόχειρόν [ἐστι]) that…. In other words, this, insists Epictetus, is the very first
interpretation that should instantly and easily ‘be
at our finger tips’, quite literally; this is the very
first thought that should readily come to mind when we observe whatever is
happening in front of us: that (4): the problem the grieving person is
lamenting is not out-there in the World (because no one else seems to be
reacting to the same event). Therefore, says E., the sorrow the individual is
experiencing does not come from World, but rather from that person’s own subjective
attitude toward what he is perceiving. And per normative Stoic thinking, the
individual certainly has control over his own personal attitude or feelings.
For Epictetus, as for the Stoics in general, harm does not come at us from out-there
in the world; rather, it comes to us from ourselves and our own poor thinking
and poor choosing.
TRANSLATION
(AIKEN)— Whenever you happen to see someone weeping loudly in sorrow, either
because his child is absent and travelling far from home, or because his
personal circumstances are in desperate straits, (2) be
on your guard not to be carried away by ‘appearances’—thereby concluding
that the person is in those sorrowful or dire circumstances because he is the
victim of actions that are outside of himself. (3) Rather, let us be first ready to think, with respect to this
person and his distress, that (4) it is not the outside event that is
afflicting him (for it is not afflicting anyone else), but rather, that it is
the personal attitude one has about these things, which is causing the sorrow.
So, (5) while you certainly
should not hesitate to sympathize with this person in words, nor should you be afraid to engage in conversation with him,
and even, should it so happen, to commiserate together. But continue nevertheless to be on your guard (7) so that
you do not also grieve, as well, from within yourself.
Further reading: Phrontisterion’s
translation of Epictetus’ Handbook
·
Epictetus’ Enchiridion Expanded_Section §1.15.1.1_On Well-mannered
Dinner Parties. Or,
Living Courteously.
·
Epictetus’ Enchiridion Expanded_Section §1.14.1.1_If Wishes Were
Horses…. Or, How to
Avoid Being a Slave.
· Epictetus’ Enchiridion Expanded_Section §1.13.1.1_ More on Making Intellectual Progress; October
2018
· Epictetus’ Enchiridion Expanded_Section §1.12.1.1_Wrong Thinking About (Perhaps) Right Action;
September 2018
· Epictetus’ Enchiridion Expanded_§1.8.1.1, 1.9.1.1 and 1.10.1.1_Bits & Bobs of Fine Advice: Being
presumptuous; December 1, 2017
· Epictetus’ Enchiridion Expanded_§1.6.1.1.; On Receiving Compliments. On Possessions, & on What is Rightfully Yours. July 1, 2017
· Epictetus’ Enchiridion Expanded_§1.4.1.1. On Activities. BATHING HABITS…., AMONG OTHER THINGS; August 1,
2016
· More On the Question of Freedom_Or, How to be the Consummate Control Freak_Epictetus Expanded_§1bis; August 1, 2015
References and related reading:
· Nilsson, M.P. A History of Greek Religion. (Oxford:
Clarendon Press, 2nd edition, 1956).
· Hansen, William F.
"Greek Mythology and the Study of the Ancient Greek Oral Story." Journal
of Folklore Research 20, no. 2/3 (1983): 101-12.
http://www.jstor.org/stable/3814523.
· KURKE, LESLIE.
"Plato, Aesop, and the Beginnings of Mimetic Prose." Representations
94, no. 1 (2006): 6-52. doi:10.1525/rep.2006.94.1.6.
· Van Dijk, J. G. M.
"The Function of Fables in Graeco-Roman Romance." Mnemosyne,
Fourth Series, 49, no. 5 (1996): 513-41. http://www.jstor.org/stable/4432661.
· Bonhöffer, Adolf. Epiktet und das Neue Testament. (Berlin:
Alfred Töpelmann Verlag, 1964 (reprint))
· Starr, Chester G.
"Epictetus and the Tyrant." Classical Philology 44, no. 1
(1949): 20-29. http://www.jstor.org/stable/267078.
· Parker, Charles
Pomeroy. "Musonius the Etruscan." Harvard Studies in Classical
Philology 7 (1896): 123-37. doi:10.2307/310476.
· HERSHBELL, JACKSON
P. "Epictetus and Chrysippus." Illinois Classical Studies 18
(1993): 139-46. http://www.jstor.org/stable/23064441.
· Phrontisterion
on Aesop: https://nonimprimatur.blogspot.com/2016/12/the-tale-of-wolf-dog-and-collar.html
No comments:
Post a Comment