Tricks with His Lips! Fronto on Why Seneca is Trash

April 16, 2023April 11, 2023 ~ sententiaeantiquae ~ Leave a comment

Fronto to Marcus Aurelius Antoninus Augustus (“On Speeches”, Ambr. 382)

“…I am going to add in some potentially inapt and unfair comments, for I plan to remind you of the experience of having me as a teacher…

Still, it would be better for you to neglect these things than to nurture them poorly. For when it comes to that confused in the combined type, grafted in part on Cato’s pine-nuts and Seneca’s soft and febrile plums, well I think it should be pulled up by the roots—no, to use a Plautine line, uprooted below the roots!

I am not ignorant that Seneca is a person fully stuffed and overflowing with ideas, but to be honest I see his sentences as trotting around, announcing their course with a full gallop, but stopping to fight nowhere and never striking the sublime. Like Laberius, he plays at wit-darts, or really just assembling sounds, rather than composing words worth repeating.

Do you believe that you would uncover graver sentiments on the same ideas in your Annaeus than in Sergius*? Ah, Sergius’ words don’t have the same rhythm or the same speed as Seneca’s, I admit. The sounds don’t sing the same, I won’t deny it.

But what if the same meal is offered to two people and the first picks up the olives on the table with his fingers, brings them to his mouth, puts them between his teeth to chew them in the right and proper way, while the other throws them up high and catches them with his mouth open and then shows them off once caught with his lips like a juggler? Really, children at school would applaud at what was done and the guest would be entertained, but one will have eaten lunch properly while the other did tricks with his lips.

So you say that some things are expressed cleverly and some with weight. But sometimes little silver coins are found in the sewer. Should we take over the job of cleaning the sewers too?”

…pauca subnectam fortasse inepta iniqua, nam rursus faxo magistrum me experiare….

Neglegas tamen vero potius censeo quam prave excolas. Confusam eam ego eloquentiam, catachannae ritu partim pineis nucibus Catonis partim Senecae mollibus et febriculosis prunulis insitam, subvertendam censeo radicitus, immo vero, Plautino ut utar verbo, exradicitus. Neque ignoro copiosum sententiis et redundantem hominem esse: verum sententias eius tolutares video nusquam quadripedo concitas cursu ten<d>ere, nusquam pugnare, nusquam maiestatem studere; ut Laberius dictabolaria, immo dicteria, potius eum quam dicta confingere.

Itane existimas graviores sententias et eadem de re apud Annaeum istum reperturum te quam apud Sergium? Sed non modulatas aeque: fateor; neque ita| cordaces: ita est; neque ita tinnulas: non nego. Quid vero, si prandium utrique adponatur, adpositas oleas alter digitis prendat, ad os adferat, ut manducandi ius fasque est ita dentibus subiciat, alter autem oleas suas in altum iaciat, ore aperto excipiat, ut calculos praestigiator, primoribus labris ostentet? Ea re profecto pueri laudent, convivae delectentur; sed alter pudice pranderit, alter labellis gesticulatus erit.

At enim sunt quaedam in libris eius scite dicta, graviter quoque nonnulla. Etiam laminae interdum argentiolae cloacis inveniuntur; eane re cloacas purgandas redimemus?

*either Sergius Flavius or Plautus, an author reputed to have used harsh language

My Epistolary Friend

April 14, 2023April 14, 2023 ~ sententiaeantiquae ~ Leave a comment

Seneca, Moral Epistles 67.1-2

“I’ll make a common beginning: spring has started to show itself, but even though we are leaning toward summer when it ought to be warm, it is still cold and there’s nothing sure about it. Often, we turn back to winter. Do you want to know how shaky it still is? I don’t yet trust myself in a cold bath since even now I disturb its temperature.

You can say, “This is no way to endure either heat nor cold.” That’s true, Lucilius, but I am of the age happy with its own chill. I barely thaw out in the heat. So, the greater part of the year finds me wrapped in blankets. I am grateful to old age because it keeps me in bed. Why shouldn’t I be thankful to it for this reason? I can’t do the very things I don’t want to do. Most of my conversation is with books. When your letters come, I imagine I am with you and I don’t feel like I am writing to you, but just responding instead. So, let us talk about your question, whatever it is, as if we were together.”

Vt a communibus initium faciam, ver aperire se coepit, sed iam inclinatum in aestatem, quo tempore calere debebat, intepuit nec adhuc illi fides est. Saepe enim in hiemem revolvitur. Vis scire, quam dubium adhuc sit? Nondum me committo frigidae verae, adhuc rigorem eius infringo. “Hoc est,” inquis, “nec calidum nec frigidum pati.” Ita est, mi Lucili; iam aetas mea contenta est suo frigore.

Vix media regelatur aestate. Itaque maior pars in vestimentis degitur. Ago gratias senectuti, quod me lectulo adfixit. Quidni gratias illi hoc nomine agam? Quicquid debebam nolle, non possum. Cum libellis mihi plurimus sermo est. Si quando intervenerunt epistulae tuae, tecum esse mihi videor et sic adficior animo, tamquam tibi non rescribam, sed respondeam. Itaque et de hoc, quod quaeris, quasi conloquar tecum, quale sit, una scrutabimur.

Colo photograph of two figures holding hands. They are visible only from waist to shoulders and are women-presenting, facing each other — Picture from Wikimediacommons, Mathias Klang from Göteborg, Sweden “Friednship

Nothing To Write about: Cicero Gives Up

April 13, 2023April 11, 2023 ~ sententiaeantiquae ~ Leave a comment

Cicero to Atticus, 129 (VII.6) Formiae, ca. 18 December 50 (Full Latin text on the Scaife Viewer)

“There’s clearly nothing for me to write to you about. You know everything worth knowing and I have nothing to expect from you. Still, let me keep up our practice so that we don’t let anyone travel near you without a letter.

I am really afraid for our country. I have barely found anyone who doesn’t think we should give Caesar what he wants, rather than fighting with him.”

Plane deest quid ad te scribam. nota omnia tibi sunt, nec ipse habeo a te quod exspectem. tantum igitur nostrum illud sollemne servemus, ut ne quem istuc euntem sine litteris dimittamus.

De re publica valde timeo, nec adhuc fere inveni qui non concedendum putaret Caesari quod postularet potius quam depugnandum.

The Things You Love

April 13, 2023April 13, 2023 ~ sententiaeantiquae ~ Leave a comment

Seneca Moral Epistles 66.24-26

“The fact is that friendship among people is like what is sought in things. I think that you would not love a good man who is rich more than a poor one, nor a strong and broad one more than someone with a slight, thin frame; so I don’t think that you will seek or love something that is funny and calming more than something distracting and complex.

Well, if this is the case, then from two equally good and wise men you are tending more to the one who is clean and well-kempt rather than the dirty, unshaven one. Then you’d proceed so far as to care more about the man with strong limbs and clean skin than one who is weak or nearly blind. If you did this, your attention would eventually get to the point that you would prefer a man with curly hair from two equally just and wise choices.

Whenever the virtue is equal in both, there’s no clear inequality in other characteristics. All the other things are no parts, but additions. For who would judge their children so unequally as to prefer to care more for a healthy child than a sick one, or a tall, huge one over someone who is short or average in height. Wild animals show no favor to their children and nourish them the same. Birds distribute their their food equally.

Odysseus hurries back to the rocks of Ithaca as quickly as Agamemnon rushes home to the walls of Mycenae. No one loves their homeland because it is great, but because it is their own.”

Quod amicitia in hominibus est, hoc in rebus adpetitio. Non, puto, magis amares virum bonum locupletem quam pauperem, nec robustum et lacertosum quam gracilem et languidi corporis; ergo ne rem quidem magis adpetes aut amabis hilarem ac pacatamquam distractam et operosam.

Aut si hoc est, magis diliges ex duobus aeque bonis viris nitidum et unctum quam pulverulentum et horrentem. Deinde hoc usque pervenies, ut magis diligas integrum omnibus membris et inlaesum quam debilem aut luscum. Paulatim fastidium tuum illo usque procedet, ut ex duobus aeque iustis ac prudentibus comatum et crispulum malis. Ubi par in utroque virtus est, non conparet aliarum rerum inaequalitas. Omnia enim alia non partes, sed accessiones sunt. Num quis tam iniquam censuram inter suos agit, ut sanum filium quam aegrum magis diligat, procerumve et excelsum quam brevem aut modicum? Fetus suos non distinguunt ferae et se in alimentum pariter omnium sternunt; aves ex aequo partiuntur cibos. Vlixes ad Ithacae suae saxa sic properat, quemadmodum Agamemnon ad Mycenarum nobiles muros. Nemo enim patriam quia magna est amat, sed quia sua.

Causes and Things and Causes of Things

April 12, 2023April 10, 2023 ~ sententiaeantiquae ~ Leave a comment

Seneca, Moral Epistles 65.11-14

“This mob of causes offered by Plato and Aristotle includes either too much or too little. For if they count as a cause anything without which something cannot be made then they have included too few. They should put time among the causes; nothing can happen without time. They should include place among the causes, since if there is nowhere for a thing to happen, it certainly will not happen. They should include movement, since nothing happens nor stops without motion. No art happens without motion; no change happens.

But since we are looking for the first, general cause, this ought to be simple. For matter is simple too. Do we ask what the cause is? Well, it is the reason that creates. This is god. For those things you have reported are not a bunch of independent causes but they depend upon one thing that creates them. You suggest that form is a cause? A creator puts form on their work. Form is a part of the cause, but it is not the cause. A pattern is also not a cause, but it a necessary tool of the cause. Artists find a pattern as necessary as a chisel or a file–art can make no progress without these.

And yet non of these things are part of the art or its cause. You may say, “The intention of the artist compels him to make something, this is the cause.” True, this may be a cause but it is not the efficient cause, it is an ancillary one. These kinds are countless, but we are seeking the general cause. What those philosophers say is against their customary clarity: they claim the whole universe, the completed work it is, is a cause. Yet there’s a big difference between an outcome and its cause.”

Haec, quae ab Aristotele et Platone ponitur, turba causarum aut nimium multa aut nimium pauca conprendit. Nam si, quocumque remoto quid effici non potest, id causam iudicant esse faciendi, pauca dixerunt. Ponant inter causas tempus; nihil sine tempore potest fieri. Ponant locum; si non fuerit, ubi fiat aliquid, ne fiet quidem. Ponant motum; nihil sine hoc nec fit nec perit. Nulla sine motu ars, nulla mutatio est. Sed nos nunc primam et generalem quaerimus causam. Haec simplex esse debet; nam et materia simplex est. Quaerimus, quid sit causa? Ratio scilicet faciens, id est deus. Ista enim, quaecumque rettulistis, non sunt multae et singulae causae, sed ex una pendent, ex ea, quae faciet. Formam dicis causam esse? Hanc inponit artifex operi; pars causae est, non causa.

Exemplar quoque non est causa, sed instrumentum causae necessarium. Sic necessarium est exemplar artifici, quomodo scalprum, quomodo lima; sine his procedere ars non potest. Non tamen hae partes artis aut causae sunt. “Propositum,” inquit, “artificis, propter quod ad faciendum aliquid accedit, causa est.” Ut sit causa, non est efficiens causa, sed superveniens. Hae autem innumerabiles sunt; nos de causa generali quaerimus. Illud vero non pro solita ipsis subtilitate dixerunt, totum mundum et consummatum opus causam esse. Multum enim interest inter opus et causam operis.

The Epidemic’s Over, We’re Fine

April 11, 2023April 11, 2023 ~ sententiaeantiquae ~ Leave a comment

Cicero, Letters to Friends, to Terentia 8 (14.1)

“When it comes to my family, I will do what you report seems right to our friends. Concerning where I am currently, the epidemic is certainly already over and, even though it lasted a while, it didn’t touch me. Plancius, the most dutiful man, longs to keep me with him and detains me here.

I was hoping to stay in some deserted place in Epirus where Piso and his soldiers would never come, but Plancius holds me here. He posts that it will turn out to be possible for him to leave for Italy with me. Should I see that day and return to your embrace and my families and get you and myself back again, I will judge that a great profit of your commitment and mine.”

De familia, quo modo placuisse scribis amicis faciemus. de loco, nunc quidem iam abiit pestilentia, sed quam diu fuit me non attigit. Plancius, homo officiosissimus, me cupit esse secum et adhuc retinet. ego volebam loco magis deserto esse in Epiro, quo neque Piso veniret nec milites, sed adhuc Plancius me retinet; sperat posse fieri ut mecum in Italiam decedat. quem ego diem si videro et si in vestrum complexum venero ac si et vos et me ipsum reciperaro, satis magnum mihi fructum videbor percepisse et vestrae pietatis et meae.

Cicero Very Fine

Grief Fatigue and Limits to Mourning

April 10, 2023April 9, 2023 ~ sententiaeantiquae ~ Leave a comment

Seneca, Moral Epistle 63.12-14

“You have buried someone you loved; seek someone else you can love. It is better to replace a friend than mourn one. I know that what I am about to add is extremely cliched, but I won’t avoid it just because many have said it. Whoever makes no end to grief intentionally, finds one in time. The most shameful cure for grief for a wise person is being worn out by sorrow. I would prefer that you give up on pain rather than it give up on you and, further, that you stop it as soon as possible, since even if you desire to keep it up, you can’t go on for long.

Our ancestors decided that a year is a long enough time for a woman to mourn, not so that they may weep that long, but for no longer. There was no limit given to men because no amount was considered right. Still, for all those women who could not barely be pulled away from a corpse, how many can you find whose tears outlasted a month?

Nothing inspires hatred as quickly as grief. When it is new, it finds compassion and draws people to itself; but once it becomes constant, it turns into a joke, and not without reason. It seems either faked or foolish.

I am writing these words to you even though I was the one who was so undone by weeping for my dearest friend Annaeus Serenius that I must include myself among the list of people whom sorrow defeated, against my wishes. Today I speak out against my action and I know that the reason I mourned so much was that I didn’t even suspect his death would come before mine. My only thought was that he was younger than me by a lot, as if the fates kept track of the order in which we were born!”

Quem amabas, extulisti; quaere, quem ames. Satius est amicum reparare quam flere. Scio pertritum iam hoc esse, quod adiecturus sum, non ideo tamen praetermittam, quia ab omnibus dictum est: finem dolendi etiam qui consilio non fecerat, tempore invenit. Turpissimum autem est in homine prudente remedium maeroris lassitudo maerendi. Malo relinquas dolorem quam ab illo relinquaris, et quam primum id facere desiste, quod etiam si voles, diu facere non poteris. Annum feminis ad Iugendum constituere maiores, non ut tam diu lugerent, sed ne diutius; viris nullum legitimum tempus est, quia nullum honestum. Quam tamen mihi ex illis mulierculis dabis vix retractis a rogo, vix a cadavere revulsis, cui lacrimae in totum mensem duraverint? Nulla res citius in odium venit quam dolor, qui recens consolatorem invenit et aliquos ad se adducit, inveteratus vero deridetur, nec inmerito. Aut enim simulatus aut stultus est.

Haec tibi scribo is, qui Annaeum Serenum, carissimum mihi, tam inmodice flevi, ut, quod minime velim, inter exempla sim eorum, quos dolor vicit. Hodie autem factum meum damno et intellego maximam mihi causam sic lugendi fuisse, quod numquam cogitaveram mori eum ante me posse. Hoc unum mihi occurrebat, minorem esse et multo minorem, tamquam ordinem fata servarent.

Picture of a fragment of a Roman wall painting. Two women incline their heads toward each other — Roman wall painting of women gossiping. Getty Villa 96.AG.302

Kidding Ourselves to Starve our minds

April 9, 2023 ~ sententiaeantiquae ~ Leave a comment

Seneca, Moral Epistles 61

“Those who want how busy they are to be an obstacle to their study of the liberal arts are kidding themselves. They imagine and exaggerate their obligations to keep themselves booked up. I have free time and I have it wherever I am because I am my own. I don’t surrender myself to business, but I merely lend myself to it and I don’t hunt reasons to waste time. And wherever I find myself, I work on my ideas and try to mull over something good for the mind.

When I spend time with my friends I don’t withdraw from myself nor do I delay with those whom some occasion or official state affair have brought to me. No, I spend my time with the best crowd–I send my mind to them wherever they are, in whatever generation they were born. I carry Demetrius, that best of men, with me. I leave behind those men draped in purple and chat with that guy, half-clothed. I admire him.

Why shouldn’t I? I think that he lacks nothing. Anyone can look down on everything but no one can possess everything. The best shortcut to wealth is by despising it. But our Demetrius lives not just as if he rejects everything, but as if he has surrendered everything for others to own. Goodbye.”

Mentiuntur, qui sibi obstare ad studia liberalia turbam negotiorum videri volunt; simulant occupationes et augent et ipsi se occupant. Vaco, Lucili, vaco et ubicumque sum, ibi meus sum. Rebus enim me non trado, sed commodo, nec consector perdendi temporis causas. Et quocumque constiti loco, ibi cogitationes meas tracto et aliquid in animo salutare converso.

Cum me amicis dedi non tamen mihi abduco, nec cum illis moror, quibus me tempus aliquod congregavit aut causa ex officio nata civili, sed cum optimo quoque sum; ad illos, in quocumque loco, in quocumque saeculo fuerunt, animum meum mitto. Demetrium, virorum optimum, mecum circumfero et relictis conchyliatis cum illo seminudo loquor, illum admiror.

Quidni admirer? Vidi nihil ei deesse. Contemnere aliquis omnia potest, omnia habere nemo potest. Brevissima ad divitias per contemptum divitiarum via est. Demetrius autem noster sic vivit, non tamquam contempserit omnia, sed tamquam aliis habenda permiserit. Vale.

Adjusting Your Horizon of Deathpectation

April 8, 2023 ~ sententiaeantiquae ~ Leave a comment

Seneca, Moral Epistles 61

“We should stop wanting what we used to. I am surely doing that. As an old man, I stopped wanting those things I did as a boy. My days, my nights, my labor are in this alone, this thought: to bring some end to long-lasting problems. I am acting as if each day is a whole life. By Heracles, I am not “seizing the day as if it is the last”, although I suspect that it is. I am writing this letter with that in mind–as if death might call me even as I write. it. I am ready to leave and I am enjoying life because I am not worrying too much about how long in the future this will be.

Before old age, I was dedicated to living well; now that I am old, it’s about dying well. Dying well is dying freely. Put a lot of effort into never doing something unwillingly. Something that is required should you refuse it is a choice if you want it. I mean this: whoever accepts orders freely avoids the worst part of slavery: doing what you don’t want to. Someone who is ordered to do something is not unhappy, but someone who works unwillingly is miserable.

So, Let us rearrange our thoughts to want whatever a matter asks of us and foremost that we may think about our death without sadness. We should be preparing for death before life. Life is well enough equipped, but we are too greedy for its accommodations. Something seems missing; something always seems missing. Whether we have lived long enough isn’t about years or days but the mind. I have lived long enough, dearest Lucilius. I am awaiting death, full. Goodbye.

Desinamus, quod voluimus, velle. Ego certe id ago: senex ea desii velle quae puer volui. In hoc unum eunt dies, in hoc noctes, hoc opus meum est, haec cogitatio: inponere veteribus malis finem. Id ago, ut mihi instar totius vitae dies sit. Nec mehercules tamquam ultimum rapio, sed sic illum aspicio, tamquam esse vel ultimus possit. Hoc animo tibi hanc epistulam scribo, tamquam me cum maxime scribentem mors evocatura sit. Paratus exire sum et ideo fruar vita, quia quam diu futurum hoc sit, non nimis pendeo.

Ante senectutem curavi, ut bene viverem, in senectute, ut bene moriar; bene autem mori est libenter mori. Da operam, ne quid umquam invitus facias. Quicquid necesse futurum est repugnanti, volenti necessitas non est. Ita dico: qui imperia libens excipit, partem acerbissimam servitutis effugit, facere quod nolit. Non qui iussus aliquid facit, miser est, set qui invitus facit. Itaque sic animum conponamus, ut quicquid res exiget, id velimus et in primis ut finem nostri sine tristitia cogitemus. Ante ad mortem quam ad vitam praeparandi sumus. Satis instructa vita est, sed nos in instrumenta eius avidi sumus; deesse aliquid nobis videtur et semper videbitur. Ut satis vixerimus, nec anni nec dies faciunt, sed animus. Vixi, Lucili carissime, quantum satis erat; mortem plenus exspecto. Vale.

Hungry Hungry Humans

April 7, 2023April 7, 2023 ~ sententiaeantiquae ~ Leave a comment

Seneca, Moral Epistle 60

“I make a complaint, I sue, I am enraged. Do you still want what your nurse, your tutor, or your mommy have prayed for you. Don’t you know how much evil they begged? How harmful are the wishes of our loved ones! And the more successful they are, the more hostile they turn out to be. This is why I am not amazed that all these bad things plague us from youth. We’ve grown up among our parents’ curses! May they gods listen to our voice too, since it asks for nothing.

How long will we keep begging the gods as if we can’t take care of ourselves? How long will we fill the markets of our cities with goof. How long will people fill the city? How long will so many vessels carry the supplies for a single meal from many seas? The bull gets full by feeding on just a few acres; a single forest is good enough for many elephants. Yet a human being snacks on earth and sea.

What? Did nature make our gut so insatiable when we got these small bodies that we should outstrip the greed of the largest and hungriest animals? Nope. How little is enough for us naturally? Just a little bit. It is not our bellies’ hunger that costs us so much, but our envy.

So, those who, as Sallust says, “are obedient to their bellies” should be counted among the animals, not people. And some of them shouldn’t be ranked with the animals, but consigned instead to the dead. Whoever makes use of many is alive; whoever makes use of themselves, lives too. But those who hide away and grow overfull live in homes like tombs. We should inscribe their names in marble above their doors, since they’re dead before they died.”

Queror, litigo, irascor. Etiamnunc optas, quod tibi optavit nutrix tua aut paedagogus aut mater? Nondum intellegis, quantum mali optaverint? O quam inimica nobis sunt vota nostrorum! Eo quidem inimiciora quo cessere felicius. Iam non admiror, si omnia nos a prima pueritia mala secuntur; inter execrationes parentum crevimus. Exaudiant di nostram quoque¹ pro nobis vocem gratuitam.

Quousque poscemus aliquid deos ita quasi nondum ipsi alere nos possimus? Quamdiu sationibus inplebimus magnarum urbium campos? Quamdiu nobis populus metet? Quamdiu unius mensae instrumentum multa navigia et quidem non ex uno mari subvehent? Taurus paucissimorum iugerum pascuo impletur; una silva elephantis pluribus sufficit; homo et terra et mari pascitur. Quid ergo? Tam insatiabilem nobis natura alvum dedit, cum tam modica corpora dedisset, ut vastissimorum edacissimorumque animalium aviditatem vinceremus? Minime. Quantulum est enim, quod naturae datur?

Parvo illa dimittitur. Non fames nobis ventris nostri magno constat, sed ambitio. Hos itaque, ut ait Sallustius, “ventri oboedientes” animalium loco numeremus, non hominum, quosdam vero ne animalium quidem, sed mortuorum. Vivit is, qui multis usui est, vivit is, qui se utitur; qui vero latitant et torpent, sic in domo sunt, quomodo in conditivo. Horum licet in limine ipso nomen marmori inscribas, mortem suam antecesserunt. Vale.