These are very helpful posts. If folks want to address the grave deficiencies of modernity, something in the way the Ressourcement movement looked to patristics for inspiration should happen with regards to the living medieval legacy. (Or perhaps better, the dormant, but still vital seed.)
A few brief observations: I think critics like Eric Voegelin and D.C. Schindler have astutely noted the role Plato assumes as visionary poet in key places in the dialogues, such as the myth of Er that concludes The Republic. It is the merely mimetic poet who lacks discernment for metaphysical depths that is banished, because too easily coopted by sophists to derail the search for wisdom. A wiser poetics is subtly recommended by the philosopher’s performance.
Your thoughts on the original poetic diction mirror those of Vico and Barfield. Finally, I hope you will address the romances of Chrétien and my favorite, Wolfram von Eschenbach, at some point.
Thank you for this insightful comment, and for the topic suggestions. I'll add those to my list of ideas for future posts.
If I understand you correctly, we're both of the opinion that Plato's condemnation of poetry is widely misunderstood or exaggerated (and perhaps also taken out of context, since the attitude expressed in the Republic differs from that in the Laws and the Ion). Plato himself was a poetical philosopher who explored ideas through engaging, lively dialogues rather than technical treatises (Aristotle actually viewed Plato's dialogues as poems, not in the sense of finely crafted metrical verse, but in the sense of discursive thought expressed through imaginative literature). The Renaissance poet and scholar Sir Philip Sidney recognized long ago that Plato was concerned primarily about the _abuse_ of poetry:
"Plato’s name is laid upon me, whom I must confess, of all philosophers I have ever esteemed most worthy of reverence; and with great reason, since of all philosophers he is the most poetical.... Plato found fault that the poets of his time filled the world with wrong opinions of the gods, making light tales of that unspotted essence, and therefore would not have the youth depraved with such opinions. Herein may much be said; let this suffice: the poets did not induce such opinions, but did imitate those opinions already induced.... So as Plato, banishing the abuse, not the thing, not banishing it, but giving due honor unto it, shall be our patron and not our adversary."
Superb. The folks who misread Plato are the same ones who accuse him of fascism. Of course, they also think God is the supreme fascist. You probably know it, but Josef Pieper’s Divine Madness is a wonderful little book. Certainly, Plato’s art derives from ecstatic experience of transcendent beauty.
It wasn’t enough to craft a story that was humorous, or action-packed, or romantic, or filled with clever plot twists, or equipped with a surprise ending. The language itself had to be crafted...
This is very important. Following up on our discussion about beauty and form, I wonder if our forefathers were right to be suspicious of novels --
Some of our forefathers were _very_ suspicious of novels. There are various reasons for this, but in the earlier (eighteenth-century) novels especially there was a striking difference between novelistic prose and older forms of poetic literature, or what you call "constrained writing" in the post that you linked. Eighteenth-century novels tend to feel very "unconstrained," and the effect must have been disconcerting for people accustomed to verse drama, sonnet sequences, epics, and so forth.
A note in the commentary by Robert Alter on his translation of Genesis that I've been rereading, at chapter 2:23: "The first human is given reported speech for the first time only when there is another human to whom to respond. The speech takes the form of verse." He then points out that in Hebrew, each of the parallel clauses begin with a "feminine indicative pronoun" [which he translates "this one"], and the poem ends with that same pronoun. The first recorded human to human speech in the Bible is beautifully structured poetry.
(PS. I had to go grab Boethius, and find this: "Now when she saw the Muses of poetry standing by my bed, helping me to find words for my grief, she was disturbed for a moment, and then cried out with fiercely blazing eyes: 'Who let these theatrical tarts in with this sick man? Not only have they no cures for his pain, but their sweet poison they make it worse. These are they who choke the rich harvest of the fruits of reason with the barren thorns of passion. They accustom a man's mind to his ills, not rid him of them. ... Get out, you Sirens, beguiling men straight to their destruction!" -- which always delights and puzzles me a little. Of course there are all the wonderful poems prefacing each section of the Consolation ....)
"The first recorded human to human speech in the Bible is beautifully structured poetry"—is this not simply extraordinary, and deserving of much more commentary and reflection than it receives? As for Boethius, he was a transitional figure between the Ancient and medieval worlds, and I think it was mostly the _pagan_ Muses he was worried about. (And I'll point out that other translations use language that is a bit harsher than "theatrical tarts"....) He surely understood how powerful poetry is, and he must have feared the destructive power of unedifying poetry (which the classical world certainly did produce).
That's helpful, thank you. It does seem like an exacerbation or indulgence of clouding passion is especially what Philosophy is angry about -- an adulteration of Boethius' mind and faculties -- with those unmentionably bad muses. I love her :-). At least in my Loeb translation, it feels there is something inherently feminine in her presence, even in her sternness, like Wisdom in Proverbs. (And in Proverbs too, there's also a contrast quite literally but surely also spiritually/symbolically with a more destructive "feminine" influence.)
I like the connection to "Lady Wisdom" in Scripture. Another interesting connection, this time projecting into the future rather than the past: we hear echoes of Boethius' Lady Philosophy in Dante's Beatrice.
Not to forget that immediately following Lady Philosophy's banishment of the muses, she immediately sings. The entire work of the Consolation is the healing of the soul through the lyrical form (alternating between prose and poetry). Similar to the danger spoken of by Socrates, Boethius condemns the form of poetry that incites the passions away from order and truth.
I would subscribe to your substack as I think it is admirable - informative, uplifting and thought -provoking - but I am an elderly UK widow so my spare money goes to pro-life causes because they are so fundamental.
Thank you for your kind words! And currently all subscriptions to Via Mediaevalis are free, so for the time being you can read all the posts without paying anything.
I’m curious, Robert, is there an English version of the Psalms that you prefer? I am partial to the Coverdale Psalter and the original Grail Psalter, the latter most likely because of daily use in the Liturgy of the Hours (USA).
I also enjoyed the Grail Psalter when I prayed the Liturgy of the Hours, but over time I developed a preference for the archaic language and heightened poetry of the older translations. After much searching I settled on the Psalms of the Geneva Bible, which predates the King James Bible and happens to be the version that Shakespeare read. I prayed daily with the Geneva Psalter for a while before admitting that I still was not satisfied with the poetic qualities, and that's when I decided to compose my own translation of the Psalms (and several scriptural canticles). The goal was to transfer as much precise meaning and poetic richness as possible from the Hebrew text into a pleasantly archaic, metrical English rendering suitable for meditation, individual prayer, and communal recitation. I describe the style of the translation as "inspired by and adapted from English-language biblical literature of the Middle Ages."
So to answer your question, I now prefer my own translation, which currently is available only as part of a larger prayer book (https://www.amazon.com/Sacred-Poetry-Family-Prayer-Robert/dp/B0CVVP3FTL). In the future I plan to create a shorter, less expensive version that will consist almost entirely of the Psalms and their explanatory notes.
Wonderful post, it takes me back to Dreams of Gilgamesh, the epoch of all great poetry
So glad you enjoyed it Lauren, thanks for commenting!
These are very helpful posts. If folks want to address the grave deficiencies of modernity, something in the way the Ressourcement movement looked to patristics for inspiration should happen with regards to the living medieval legacy. (Or perhaps better, the dormant, but still vital seed.)
A few brief observations: I think critics like Eric Voegelin and D.C. Schindler have astutely noted the role Plato assumes as visionary poet in key places in the dialogues, such as the myth of Er that concludes The Republic. It is the merely mimetic poet who lacks discernment for metaphysical depths that is banished, because too easily coopted by sophists to derail the search for wisdom. A wiser poetics is subtly recommended by the philosopher’s performance.
Your thoughts on the original poetic diction mirror those of Vico and Barfield. Finally, I hope you will address the romances of Chrétien and my favorite, Wolfram von Eschenbach, at some point.
Thank you for this insightful comment, and for the topic suggestions. I'll add those to my list of ideas for future posts.
If I understand you correctly, we're both of the opinion that Plato's condemnation of poetry is widely misunderstood or exaggerated (and perhaps also taken out of context, since the attitude expressed in the Republic differs from that in the Laws and the Ion). Plato himself was a poetical philosopher who explored ideas through engaging, lively dialogues rather than technical treatises (Aristotle actually viewed Plato's dialogues as poems, not in the sense of finely crafted metrical verse, but in the sense of discursive thought expressed through imaginative literature). The Renaissance poet and scholar Sir Philip Sidney recognized long ago that Plato was concerned primarily about the _abuse_ of poetry:
"Plato’s name is laid upon me, whom I must confess, of all philosophers I have ever esteemed most worthy of reverence; and with great reason, since of all philosophers he is the most poetical.... Plato found fault that the poets of his time filled the world with wrong opinions of the gods, making light tales of that unspotted essence, and therefore would not have the youth depraved with such opinions. Herein may much be said; let this suffice: the poets did not induce such opinions, but did imitate those opinions already induced.... So as Plato, banishing the abuse, not the thing, not banishing it, but giving due honor unto it, shall be our patron and not our adversary."
Superb. The folks who misread Plato are the same ones who accuse him of fascism. Of course, they also think God is the supreme fascist. You probably know it, but Josef Pieper’s Divine Madness is a wonderful little book. Certainly, Plato’s art derives from ecstatic experience of transcendent beauty.
Actually I haven't heard of Divine Madness, but I have great respect for Pieper's work, so I'm glad you mentioned it!
It wasn’t enough to craft a story that was humorous, or action-packed, or romantic, or filled with clever plot twists, or equipped with a surprise ending. The language itself had to be crafted...
This is very important. Following up on our discussion about beauty and form, I wonder if our forefathers were right to be suspicious of novels --
https://fatrabbitiron.substack.com/p/be-prose
Some of our forefathers were _very_ suspicious of novels. There are various reasons for this, but in the earlier (eighteenth-century) novels especially there was a striking difference between novelistic prose and older forms of poetic literature, or what you call "constrained writing" in the post that you linked. Eighteenth-century novels tend to feel very "unconstrained," and the effect must have been disconcerting for people accustomed to verse drama, sonnet sequences, epics, and so forth.
A note in the commentary by Robert Alter on his translation of Genesis that I've been rereading, at chapter 2:23: "The first human is given reported speech for the first time only when there is another human to whom to respond. The speech takes the form of verse." He then points out that in Hebrew, each of the parallel clauses begin with a "feminine indicative pronoun" [which he translates "this one"], and the poem ends with that same pronoun. The first recorded human to human speech in the Bible is beautifully structured poetry.
(PS. I had to go grab Boethius, and find this: "Now when she saw the Muses of poetry standing by my bed, helping me to find words for my grief, she was disturbed for a moment, and then cried out with fiercely blazing eyes: 'Who let these theatrical tarts in with this sick man? Not only have they no cures for his pain, but their sweet poison they make it worse. These are they who choke the rich harvest of the fruits of reason with the barren thorns of passion. They accustom a man's mind to his ills, not rid him of them. ... Get out, you Sirens, beguiling men straight to their destruction!" -- which always delights and puzzles me a little. Of course there are all the wonderful poems prefacing each section of the Consolation ....)
"The first recorded human to human speech in the Bible is beautifully structured poetry"—is this not simply extraordinary, and deserving of much more commentary and reflection than it receives? As for Boethius, he was a transitional figure between the Ancient and medieval worlds, and I think it was mostly the _pagan_ Muses he was worried about. (And I'll point out that other translations use language that is a bit harsher than "theatrical tarts"....) He surely understood how powerful poetry is, and he must have feared the destructive power of unedifying poetry (which the classical world certainly did produce).
That's helpful, thank you. It does seem like an exacerbation or indulgence of clouding passion is especially what Philosophy is angry about -- an adulteration of Boethius' mind and faculties -- with those unmentionably bad muses. I love her :-). At least in my Loeb translation, it feels there is something inherently feminine in her presence, even in her sternness, like Wisdom in Proverbs. (And in Proverbs too, there's also a contrast quite literally but surely also spiritually/symbolically with a more destructive "feminine" influence.)
I like the connection to "Lady Wisdom" in Scripture. Another interesting connection, this time projecting into the future rather than the past: we hear echoes of Boethius' Lady Philosophy in Dante's Beatrice.
Not to forget that immediately following Lady Philosophy's banishment of the muses, she immediately sings. The entire work of the Consolation is the healing of the soul through the lyrical form (alternating between prose and poetry). Similar to the danger spoken of by Socrates, Boethius condemns the form of poetry that incites the passions away from order and truth.
Well said!
Thank you for this very inspiring article - which I have now posted up on Facebook in the hope that others will read it too.
I'm glad you enjoyed the article, and thank you for sharing it!
I would subscribe to your substack as I think it is admirable - informative, uplifting and thought -provoking - but I am an elderly UK widow so my spare money goes to pro-life causes because they are so fundamental.
Thank you for your kind words! And currently all subscriptions to Via Mediaevalis are free, so for the time being you can read all the posts without paying anything.
"But when the human spirit is freed from the frailty of the body and from the weight of sin, it doesn’t speak. It sings." I love this.
I’m curious, Robert, is there an English version of the Psalms that you prefer? I am partial to the Coverdale Psalter and the original Grail Psalter, the latter most likely because of daily use in the Liturgy of the Hours (USA).
I also enjoyed the Grail Psalter when I prayed the Liturgy of the Hours, but over time I developed a preference for the archaic language and heightened poetry of the older translations. After much searching I settled on the Psalms of the Geneva Bible, which predates the King James Bible and happens to be the version that Shakespeare read. I prayed daily with the Geneva Psalter for a while before admitting that I still was not satisfied with the poetic qualities, and that's when I decided to compose my own translation of the Psalms (and several scriptural canticles). The goal was to transfer as much precise meaning and poetic richness as possible from the Hebrew text into a pleasantly archaic, metrical English rendering suitable for meditation, individual prayer, and communal recitation. I describe the style of the translation as "inspired by and adapted from English-language biblical literature of the Middle Ages."
So to answer your question, I now prefer my own translation, which currently is available only as part of a larger prayer book (https://www.amazon.com/Sacred-Poetry-Family-Prayer-Robert/dp/B0CVVP3FTL). In the future I plan to create a shorter, less expensive version that will consist almost entirely of the Psalms and their explanatory notes.
Wonderful thoughts that provide much for reflection. Thank you.
You're welcome, Richard, thank you for commenting, and I'm truly glad that this essay gave you some material to reflect upon.