“Guardians who want the reproduction of their animals to increase when it is time to mate take handfuls of salt and sodium carbonate and rub them on the genitals of female sheep, and goats and horses. From these [animals] get more eager for sex. Others rub them down with pepper and honey; and others with sodium carbonate and nettle-seed. Some even rub them down with myrrh. From this kind of stimulation the females lose control and go crazy for the males.”
The modern debate about “mind” verses “brain” has its origins in antiquity and notions of the “soul” and the “body”. Hippocrates presents one of the earliest arguments that everything is physical and biological.
Hippocrates of Cos, On the Sacred Disease 14
“People should know that our pleasures, happiness, laughter, and jokes from nowhere else [but the brain] and that our griefs, pains, sorrows, depressions and mourning come from the same place. And through it we think especially, and ponder, and see and hear and come to perceive both shameful things and noble things and wicked things and good things as well as sweet and bitter, at times judging them so by custom, at others by understanding what is advantageous based on distinguishing what is pleasurable and not in the right time and [that] these things are not the same to us.
By this very organ we become both sane and delirious and fears and horrors attend us sometimes at night and sometimes at day. This brings us bouts of sleeplessness and makes us mistake-prone at terrible times, bringing thoughts we cannot follow, and deeds which are unknown, unaccustomed or untried.
Yes, we suffer all these things from or brain when it is not health but is hotter than natural, too cold or too wet or too dry or suffers any other kind of thing contrary to its custom. We go insane because of its moistness. For whenever it is wetter than natural, it is forced to move. And when it moves, neither sight can be still nor hearing. Instead, we hear and see different things at different times and the tongue talks about the kinds of things it sees and hears each time. But a person can think as long as the brain remains still.”
“For these reasons I think that the brain has the most power in the human being. For when it happens to be healthy, it is our interpreter of all the things that happen from the air. And air furnishes intelligence. The eyes, and ears, and tongue and hands and feet do the kinds of things the brain decides. Indeed, the portion of intelligence distributed throughout the body comes from the air. The brain is the emissary to understanding. For whenever a person draws breath inside it rushes first to the brain and then it spreads through the rest of the body once it leaves its distilled form in the brain, that very thing which is thought and has judgment. If it were to enter the body first and the rain later, it would leave understanding in the flesh and the arteries and then go hot and impure into the brain, all mixed up with the bile from flesh and blood, with the result that it would uncertain.”
Edmund Wilson. “On Free Will and How the Brain is Like a Colony of Ants.” Harper’s September 2014, 49-52.
“The self does not exist as a paranormal being living on its own within the brain. It is, instead, the central dramatic character of the confabulated scenarios. In these stories, it is always on center stage—if not as participant, then as observer and commentator—because that is where all of the sensory information arrives and is integrated.”
For a good overview of issues of brain, mind and consciousness from multiple disciplinary perspectives, see Dennett, Dale C. 2017. From Bacteria to Bach and Back: The Evolution of Minds. New York.
Πρῶρα καὶ πρύμνη, that is Prow and stern. Cicero, writing to Tiro in the final book of his Epistulae Familiares, recalls the saying with these words: ‘It was my prow and stern, as the saying of the Greeks goes, to send you away from me so that you could explain my reasoning’. We mean by ‘prow and stern’ the entirety of our plan, on account of the fact that the whole ship hangs between stern and prow as if from head to heel. Among the Greeks, I found it given thus: Τὰ ἐκ πρώρας καὶ τὰ ἐκ πρύμνης ἀπόλλυται, that is, They perish from prow and from stern equally or the prow and stern perish equally, referring to complete destruction. Philostratus, in his Heroics, writes Ἀλλὰ δεῖ προσδεδέσθαι τῇ νηί, καθάπερ τὸν Ὀδυσσέα, εἰ δὲ μή, καὶ τὰ ἐκ πρώρας φασὶ καὶ ἐκ πρύμνης ἀπολεῖται, that is, But it is necessary to be bound to the ship in the manner of Odysseus, for otherwise, as they say, prow and stern are ruined together. It is said in a similar way in Apocalypse, Ἐγώ εἰμι ἄλφα καὶ ὦ, I am Alpha and Omega, that is, ‘I am the sum of all things. All things set out from me as from a fountain, and all are returned to me as to the port of felicity.’ For alpha is the first letter of the Greeks and omega is the last. The thought found in Theocritus’ Encomium of Ptolemy is not dissimilar:
Ἀνδρῶν αὖ Πτολεμαῖος ἐνὶ πρώτεσσι λεγέσθω
Καὶ πύματος καὶ μέσσος,
that is,
‘But in the number of humans, let Ptolemy be sung first, last, and middle.’
Similarly, we have the Vergilian phrase, ‘A te principium, tibi desinet.’ [‘The beginning comes from you, and it will end with you.’] Demosthenes said that pronunciation was τὸ πρῶτον, τὸ δεύτερον καὶ τὸ τρίτον [‘the first, the second, and third’], understanding by that phrase eloquence as a whole. Plato, in the fourth book of his Laws, writes Ὁ μὲν δὴ θεός, ὥσπερ καὶ ὁ παλαιὸς λόγος, ἀρχήν τε καὶ τελευτὴν καὶ μέσα τῶν ὄντων ἁπάντων ἔχων, that is, ‘Now God himself, as it is said in that old proverb, embracing the beginning, the middle, and the end of all things…’ Plutarch, in his essay On the Education of Children, writes Ὅτι ἓν πρῶτον καὶ μέσον καὶ τελευταῖον ἐν τούτοις κεφάλαιον ἀγωγὴ σπουδαία καὶ παιδεία νόμιμός ἐστι, that is, ‘Because one thing is the first, middle, and final head – a sound foundation and a legitimate education. Aristotle, in the third book of his Rhetoric, who tells of a certain Alcidamas, who called philosophy the wall and trench of the laws, implying that all of the protection of the laws is seated in philosophy. But the philosopher condemns that metaphor as hard and frigid, as though the ‘prow and stern’ were not a harsher metaphor. Though there may be faulty expressions in serious speech, harshness of metaphor does not offend as much in proverbial expressions, since they are often similar to enigmas and it almost seems that the most contorted sayings are the most praised. Accordingly, whenever we want to signify the sum total, all the circumstances, and even the safeguard of some affair, we will say the ‘prow and stern’ or ‘the trench and wall’, as in ‘our piety ought to be the prow and stern of our studies.’ or ‘To some, the prow and stern in all affairs is money.’ or ‘Against the force of the Carthaginians, Scipio was the trench and wall,’ that is the chief safeguard.
Prora et puppis.viii
Πρῶρα καὶ πρύμνη, id est Prora et puppis. M. Tullius libro Familiarium epistolarum ultimo scribens ad Tironem suum paroemiam hanc refert his verbis : Mihi prora et puppis, ut Graecorum proverbium est, fuit a me tui dimittendi, ut rationes meas explicares. Prora itaque et puppi summam consilii nostri significamus, propterea quod a prora et puppi, tanquam a capite et calce, pendeat tota nauis. Apud Graecos invenio pronuntiatum hoc pacto : Τὰ ἐκ πρώρας καὶ τὰ ἐκ πρύμνης ἀπόλλυται, id est A prora pariter atque a puppi pereunt siue prora pariter ac puppis perit, hoc est ad internecionem. Philostratus in Heroicis : Ἀλλὰ δεῖ προσδεδέσθαι τῇ νηί, καθάπερ τὸν Ὀδυσσέα, εἰ δὲ μή, καὶ τὰ ἐκ πρώρας φασὶ καὶ ἐκ πρύμνης ἀπολεῖται, id est Sed oportet Ulyssis in morem naui alligatum esse, alioqui et prora, quod dici solet, et puppis perit. Consimili figura dictum est in Apocalypsi : Ἐγώ εἰμι ἄλφα καὶ ὦ, Ego sum alpha et ω. Ego sum rerum omnium summa. Omnia proficiscuntur a me velut a fonte, et ad eundem omnia referuntur tanquam ad felicitatis portum. Nam alpha, α, Graecis prima litera est, ω magnum postrema. Neque dissidet hinc illud Theocriticum in Encomio Ptolemaei :
Ἀνδρῶν αὖ Πτολεμαῖος ἐνὶ πρώτεσσι λεγέσθω
Καὶ πύματος καὶ μέσσος,
id est
Ast hominum in numero decantetur Ptolemaeus
Primus et ultimus ac medius.
Item Vergilianum illud : A te principium, tibi desinet. Huc pertinet quod Demosthenes pronuntiationem τὸ πρῶτον, τὸ δεύτερον καὶ τὸ τρίτον esse dixit universam eloquentiam intelligens. Plato De legibus libro quarto : Ὁ μὲν δὴ θεός, ὥσπερ καὶ ὁ παλαιὸς λόγος, ἀρχήν τε καὶ τελευτὴν καὶ μέσα τῶν ὄντων ἁπάντων ἔχων, id est Jam deus quidem ipse, quemadmodum vetusto verbo dicitur, tum initium tum finem tum medium rerum omnium complectens. Plutarchus in commentario De liberis educandis : Ὅτι ἓν πρῶτον καὶ μέσον καὶ τελευταῖον ἐν τούτοις κεφάλαιον ἀγωγὴ σπουδαία καὶ παιδεία νόμιμός ἐστι, id est Quod una res primum et medium ac postremum hic caput est, proba institutio legitimaque eruditio. Aristoteles libro Rhetoricorum tertio refert ex Alcidamante quodam, qui philosophiam legum vallum ac fossam appellarit, omne legum praesidium in philosophia situm innuens. At philosophus eam metaphoram tanquam duram ac frigidam damnat, quasi vero non durior sit illa superior Πρῶρα καὶ πρύμνη. Verum in oratione seria fortassis vitiosae fuerint, in adagiis non item offendit durities, ut quae saepenumero vel aenigmatum simillima sint eaque ferme laudatissima videantur, quae paulo longius detorta fuerint. Proinde quoties summam totius negotii et omne momentum praesidiumque significabimus, proram et puppim aut fossam et vallum dicemus, ut pietas studiorum nostrorum prora et puppis esse debet. Quibusdam omnium rationum prora et puppis est pecunia. Adversus Carthaginiensium vim Scipio fossa pariter et vallum erat, id est praecipuum tutamentum.
I began writing a comment on Palaiophron’s excellent post but as my stylus scribbled, things got out of hand. So consider this both comment and tribute to his observations. I do deviate in that I list three books without using his categories, compensating by expanding my comments. So without further ado….
Plautus. Any Plautus. Lord knows Ive tried, but I just can’t find the humor, despite many classical friends who break into guffaws when reading them. If I were of mean spirit, I’d say they laughed because they’d been taught that Plautine plays were supposed to be funny. Aren’t we all glad that I am not of mean spirit? I’ve read all the plays, and Fraenkel’s Plautinisches im Plautus, in the revised Italian edition. No go. I do find individual words, phrases and sentences interesting for the archaic Latin, one of my special interests. Dishonorable mention: Terence. Same reasons, but not even the redeeming feature of interesting Latin. On the other hand, I find Aristophanes extremely funny. I suppose if one likes shows like Benny Hill or Monty Python one will like Plautus and Terence. But I don’t.
Seneca, Epistulae. What a crashing bore. Not even interesting Latin…Ciceronian it ain’t, but it doesn’t have the inventiveness of the fine Silver Age Latin of Petronius and Tacitus. Or even Lucan. Roman philosophy I consider pretty half-baked philosophy. No, scratch that, Roman philosophy isn’t baked at all. The letters are a big snooze. Why waste time on them when you can be rereading Plato? Or the fragments of the Presocratics? Dishonorable mention: his essays. And they’re way longer than the letters, upping the Lethean dimension. This is the lad who wrote the hilarious Apocolocyntosis? He definitely shouldn’t have quit his day job, although Nero would beg to differ.
Marcus Aurelius, Meditations. This one actually makes it to lists of Great Books. More’s the pity. Way back in high school I read our boy in translation and thought I’d never look back. Until I hit the sight translation part of my Oxford Greats final. An unseen from…you guessed it. I died a thousand times during those two hours, but somehow managed to get a high Beta out of it. My mind goes numb with this book…I just don’t care what happens next. The author is a very interesting emperor with a totally uninteresting mind, although his exchanges with Fronto are really rather interesting. Another one who shouldn’t have quit his day job.
I suppose a good read is like love…where you find it. But who would want to look for a bad read? A good read makes you eager to finish, so you can start rereading, and so on, and so on. Of these three I’ve singled out…I really can’t think of any others who interest me less.
“Perperos: uneducated, foolish, rude, uncultured, liars. In his Principles Accius uses “perperos to describe common people.
The same poet in that work writes:
Poets are beat up because of this instead of some fault of their own:
The excessive gullibility of your minds or your lack of sophistication.”
Nonius, 150, 11: ‘Perperos,’ indoctos, stultos, rudis, insulsos, mendaces. Accius Pragmaticis—
describere in theatro perperos popularis.
Idem eodem—
et eo plectuntur poetae quam suo vitio saepius
ductabilitate animi nimia vestra aut perperitudine.
Dubious Fragments Attributed to Ennius
24
“Many a menacing machine maximally menaces the munitions”
Machina multa minax minitatur maxima muris
26
“Theta, a letter unluckier than the rest”
O multum ante alias infelix littera theta!
Thomas Jefferson, Letter To John Adams, July 5, 1814
“I am just returned from one of my long absences, having been at my other home for five weeks past. Having more leisure there than here for reading, I amused myself with reading seriously Plato’s republic. I am wrong however in calling it amusement, for it was the heaviest task-work I ever went through. I had occasionally before taken up some of his other works, but scarcely ever had patience to go through a whole dialogue. While wading thro’ the whimsies, the puerilities, and unintelligible jargon of this work, I laid it down often to ask myself how it could have been that the world should have so long consented to give reputation to such nonsense as this? How the soi-disant Christian world indeed should have done it, is a piece of historical curiosity. But how could the Roman good sense do it? And particularly how could Cicero bestow such eulogies on Plato? Altho’ Cicero did not wield the dense logic of Demosthenes, yet he was able, learned, laborious, practised in the business of the world, and honest. He could not be the dupe of mere style, of which he was himself the first master in the world. With the Moderns, I think, it is rather a matter of fashion and authority. Education is chiefly in the hands of persons who, from their profession, have an interest in the reputation and the dreams of Plato. They give the tone while at school, and few, in their after-years, have occasion to revise their college opinions. But fashion and authority apart, and bringing Plato to the test of reason, take from him his sophisms, futilities, and incomprehensibilities, and what remains?
In truth, he is one of the race of genuine Sophists, who has escaped the oblivion of his brethren, first by the elegance of his diction, but chiefly by the adoption and incorporation of his whimsies into the body of artificial Christianity. His foggy mind, is forever presenting the semblances of objects which, half seen thro’ a mist, can be defined neither in form or dimension. Yet this which should have consigned him to early oblivion really procured him immortality of fame and reverence. The Christian priesthood, finding the doctrines of Christ levelled to every understanding, and too plain to need explanation, saw, in the mysticisms of Plato, materials with which they might build up an artificial system which might, from it’s indistinctness, admit everlasting controversy, give employment for their order, and introduce it to profit, power and pre-eminence. The doctrines which flowed from the lips of Jesus himself are within the comprehension of a child; but thousands of volumes have not yet explained the Platonisms engrafted on them: and for this obvious reason that nonsense can never be explained. Their purposes however are answered. Plato is canonized; and it is now deemed as impious to question his merits as those of an Apostle of Jesus. He is peculiarly appealed to as an advocate of the immortality of the soul; and yet I will venture to say that were there no better arguments than his in proof of it, not a man in the world would believe it. It is fortunate for us that Platonic republicanism has not obtained the same favor as Platonic Christianity; or we should now have been all living, men, women and children, pell mell together, like beasts of the field or forest. Yet `Plato is a great Philosopher,’ said La Fontaine. But says Fontenelle `do you find his ideas very clear’? `Oh no! he is of an obscurity impenetrable.’ `Do you not find him full of contradictions?’ `Certainly,’ replied La Fontaine, `he is but a Sophist.’ Yet immediately after, he exclaims again, `Oh Plato was a great Philosopher.’ Socrates had reason indeed to complain of the misrepresentations of Plato; for in truth his dialogues are libels on Socrates.”
Tell me of Telemachus, Muse, and the tawdry tales
of his trio of tender-ankled temptresses
Hesiod, Fr. 221 (Eustathius in Hom. (π 117—20) p. 1796. 38)
“Well-belted Polycaste, the youngest daughter of Nestor Neleus’ son, gave birth to Persepolis after having sex with Telemachus Thanks to golden Aphrodite.”
“And then Telegonos went sailing in search of his father; once he stopped in Ithaca he was trashing the island. Odysseus shouted out and was killed by his child because of ignorance.
Once Telegonos understood his mistake he returned the body of his father along with Penelope and Telemachus to his own mother. She made them immortal. Then he lived with Penelope and Telemachus lived with Kirke.
The Odyssey is somewhat preoccupied with Telemachus’ paternity and the means by which it might be established. As mentioned in an earlier post, Aristotle suggests that children who are not like their father are monstrous. The Odyssey is also preoccupied with monstrous bodies–the giant Kikones, the deformed (morally and physically) Kyklopes, the transformed sailors, the mutilated bodies of servants–and the transformation of Odysseus’ body because of trauma at sea, age, and the needs of disguise. The threat of finding a monster at home might also be implied…
Athena signals Telemachus’ positive identity from the beginning. But the boy himself is uncertain!
Homer, Odyssey 1.207-209
“…if in fact this great child is from the same Odysseus.
For you look terribly like that man in his beautiful eyes
and his head…”
Telemachus famously quibbles over the identification, wondering in classic moody adolescent fashion if any of this is true. Some of the scholia try to support him…
Od. 1.215-216
“My mother says that I am his, but I, well, I just
Don’t know. For no one ever witnesses his own origin…”
“No one knows his own origin..” and elsewhere [we find] “they claim that that man is my father” (Od.4.387.) Similarly, Euripides says “a mother is a more dear parent than a father / for she knows the child is hers but he only thinks it” and Menander says, “no one knows from what man he is born / but we all suspect or believe it.” And some claim that Telemachus says these things because he was left when he was small.”
Later in the Odyssey, Nestor likens son to father (implicitly).
Od. 3.121-125
“..when shining Odysseus father was preeminent in all kinds of tricks, your father, if truly you are his son. And wonder overtakes me as I look at you
For your speeches, at least, are really fine—no one would expect
A younger man to utter such suitable things.”
In Sparta, Helen notes that Telemachus looks like, well, Telemachus even though she has never seen him! Menelaos agrees. The scholia get a little frustrated.
Od. 4.138-146
“For I do not think that anyone looks so suitable,
Neither a man nor a woman, and wonder overtakes me as I look at him,
How this one looks like the son of great-hearted Odysseus,
Telemachus, the one that man left just born in his household
When the Achaeans left for the sake of dog-faced me
And went to Troy, raising their bold war.”
“Fair Menelaos spoke to her and answered:
‘I was just thinking the same thing, wife, which you imagined.
For these are the same kind of feet and hands,
The look of the eyes and the hair on the head as that man.”
“These sort of feet are that man’s”: For likeness in bodies especially shows through in the extremities and the gaze. And however so much grows more slowly, that much provides more precise signs of recognition over time. This is why it is said “From feet to the head.”
The threat of children not looking like fathers is central to the fall of the race of iron. But it is couched within a general social collapse. In this case, ancient scholia turn to the abstract issue. In this case, a child dissimilar to parents would be a monstrum, but in the sense of an omen or a sign of a fallen generation. From this perspective the tension latent in Telemachus’ potential dissimilarity to his father is about stability of the last generation of epic heroes. The bastard sons of Odysseus and potential infidelity of Penelope signal, perhaps, the end of the race of heroes and a premature end to heroic epic.
Hesiod, Works and Days 180–185
“Zeus will destroy this race of mortal humans
Or they will perish when they are born with temples already grey.
Then a father will not be like his children, nor children at all like parents;
A guest will not be dear to a host, a friend not to a friend
And a relative will not be dear as in years before.”
b. “Similar to…” likeness, similarity, a shared voice or similarity in mind or in shape, [lost here] because of the multitude of wickedness and adulteries…”
“similar to”: the similarity is clearly the commonness, the conversation, and the affection. For affection (philia) develops from similarity. Altogether this expresses tragically the oncoming evils in life following this, the distrust between children and fathers, between guests and hosts, and among friends. Friendship is the third thing mentioned. Also: cognate, companionable, hospitable.”
Later, Aristotle channels some of the same cultural assumptions from a scientific perspective. Here the monstrum (greek teras) is an indication of deformity.
Aristotle, Generation of Animals, Book 4, 767b
“These causes are also of the same. Some [offspring] are born similar to their parents while others are not. Some are similar to their father; others are like their mother, applying both to the body as a whole and to each part. Offspring are more like their parents than their ancestors and more like their ancestors than passersby.
Males are more similar to their father and females are more similar to their mother. But some are not like any of their relatives, but are still akin to human beings while others are like not at all like humans in their appearance, but rather like some monster. For whoever is not like his parents is in some way a monster because nature has in these cases wandered in some way from the essential character.”
Mr. Elphinston talked of a new book that was much admired, and asked Dr. Johnson if he had read it. JOHNSON: “I have looked into it.” “What,” said Elphinston, “have you not read it through?” Johnson, offended at being thus pressed, and so obliged to own his cursory mode of reading, answered tartly, “No, Sir, do you read books through?” [Boswell, Life of Johnson]
When I was nineteen, I had a conversation with my girlfriend’s stepfather (then a terrifying figure to me), in which he claimed that he had not read a book for years. I was surprised to hear this from a man who had studied English Literature at Oxford, and he told me that the last book he had read was so bad that it had turned him away from reading forever. We have all read bad books, and this seems like a melodramatic and petulant reaction, but he explained that it had been his inflexible policy to read every book which he took up from page one until the end. Surely there is no worse way to read. Indeed, the transition from scroll to codex was meant to break the oppressive shackles of almost-compulsory linear reading. Samuel Johnson was one of the most well-read men of his time, yet he regularly counseled against reading books in their entirety:
“On advice that books, once started, should be read all the way through: ‘This is surely a strange advice; you may as well resolve that whatever men you happen to get acquainted with, you are to keep them for life. A book may be good for nothing; or there may be only one thing in it worth knowing; are we to read it all through?'” [Boswell, Life of Johnson]
I have spent countless hours of my life running along my library shelves, selecting volumes here and there, and reading only a paragraph or two at random. This is one of my chief literary pleasures, though I suspect that it has contributed to the especially discursive and disorganized character of my mind, which is strewn about with miscellaneous quotations, trivial facts, and half-remembered jokes.
I (hazily) remember once reading that Thomas Jefferson was unable to finish Plato’s Republic, and stored this in my repository of miscellaneous trivia. I think that I have identified the source of the claim in his letter to John Adams (July 5, 1814):
“I am just returned from one of my long absences, having been at my other home for five weeks past. Having more leisure there than here for reading, I amused myself with reading seriously Plato’s republic. I am wrong however in calling it amusement, for it was the heaviest task-work I ever went through. I had occasionally before taken up some of his other works, but scarcely ever had patience to go through a whole dialogue.”
It is comforting to see that such a widely-read man found it difficult to make it through not just the rather lengthy Republic, but even the short, crisp, pamphlet-length dialogues.
I take it for granted that most readers of this site, as readers, spend a substantial amount of time with their gazes fixed upon the page, and would therefore like to pose a series of questions about reading books through. I hope to elicit responses focusing on ancient Greek and Latin words, but I also invite responses about modern books as well.
The Questions:
1.) What book have you been unable to finish reading despite repeated attempts?
2.) What book have you been unable to finish but admire and earnestly wish that you could finish it?
3.) What book have you forced yourself to finishreading only to regret the time wasted therein?
My own responses are:
) No matter how many times I have tried, I can never read through more than a few books of Thucydides’ History. I find that it gets a bit dull after a while, and it makes for hard going. Other contenders include Statius’ Thebaid (which I have tried a few times) and Martianus Capella’s de Nuptiis Philologiae et Mercurii.
) I have tried to read through Lucretius’ de Rerum Natura several times, but always get stalled halfway through. I really like Lucretius, and I should be able to finish this, especially given its comparative brevity. Yet, for one reason or another, I always find myself distracted at about that point, and abandon the book for so long that I feel compelled to begin again at Aeneadum genetrix.
) I spent a good chunk of my time once to reading Lucan’s Pharsalia. I can remember a couple of sententious quotes from the earlier part, but I have almost entirely forgotten everything about it, despite my best effort to really focus on it as I read.
“Fear always plagues people with melancholy but they don’t always have the same kind of abnormal (para phusin) thoughts. For example, one person believes that he has grown a shell and because of this he avoids everyone who nears him so that he might not break it. When another hears the roosters singing, just as if the birds strike their wings before their song, he also slaps his arms against his sides and imitates the animals’ voice. Fear comes to another that Atlas who is supporting the universe might drop it because he is worn out and for this reason he will be crushed and he will destroy us with him.
But there are ten thousand other fantasies. The melancholic differ from one another, but even though they all exhibit fear, despair, blaming of life and hatred for people, they do not all want to die. For some, fear of death is the principle source of their depression. Some will seem paradoxical to you because they fear death and desire death at the same time.
For this reason it seems right that Hippocrates divided all of these symptoms into two groups: fear (phobos) and despair (dusthumia). Because of this sort of despair, they hate everyone they see and are always gloomy and they are afraid like children are frightened in deep darkness and uneducated adults too. As external darkness makes nearly all people afraid, except for those who are bold by nature or have been well-educated for it, so too the color of the black bile overshadows places of thought with darkness and makes people afraid.
The fact that the humors and altogether the equilibrium (krâsis) of the body may alter the reality of the mind is agreed upon by the best doctors and philosophers and I have shown in already in one publication in which by pursuing the body’s balances I demonstrated the abilities of the mind. For this reason, those who are ignorant about the power of humors do not dare to write anything about melancholy. Of these, there are also those of the school of Erasistratos. It is right to be amazed at him for people’s common thoughts, as with many other beliefs about which not a few philosophers and doctors are ignorant. Therefore, nearly everyone calls melancholy a sickness, indicating through this name that its cause is bile.”
I found this passage from reading: Patricia A. Clark and M. Lynn Rose. 2016. “Psychiatric Disability in the Galenic Medical Matrix.” In Christian Laes, Chris Goodey, and M. Lynn Rose (eds.). Disabilities in Roman Antiquity: Disparate Bodies a Capite Ad Calcem. Leiden: 45-72.
