By Angie Hobbs, Professor of the Public Understanding of Philosophy at the University of Sheffield
I grew up reading Ladybird books in the 1960s and 1970s, and feel a deep affection for them (and indeed still possess – and use – quite a few on British flora and fauna). So when I was asked if I wanted to write one for the new Ladybird Expert series, I leaped at the chance.
Choosing a topic was easy: in my role promoting the public (and my own!) understanding of philosophy, I have in recent years found myself turning more and more to Plato’s Republic to elucidate topics of urgent current concern. There is so much to learn from, for example, Plato’s brilliant and incisive analysis of how a democracy can be subverted to tyranny by a cynical and opportunistic demagogue, or his scathing exposé of sophists and their peddling of ‘alternative facts’. Deciding on the structure was also easy. The Ladybird Expert format is strict: precisely 24 pages of text (in a font which allows for ca. 270–290 words per page) and accompanying illustrations.
Plato is a superb teacher. Starting with the fundamental questions, ‘Why should I be just? What’s in it for me?’, he guides us seamlessly through the ethical and political ramifications and shows how they can be answered only by exploring their roots in psychology, epistemology, metaphysics and aesthetics. All I had to do was trust the basic structure of The Republic itself, add a couple of introductory pages on Plato’s life, times and work, plus a conclusion on the abiding influence of The Republic in a wide variety of fields and its acute relevance for us today.
That was where the easy part ended. The Republic is an immensely rich, densely argued and in places very difficult dialogue, and I had to tick many boxes. My introduction needed to be clear, concise and engaging; I also wanted not just to summarize but also to raise questions for the reader to ponder – after all, Plato never writes in his own voice, but employs the dialogue form because he wants his readers to think for themselves. The summarizing was perhaps the hardest aspect of all. I once wrote a 90,000- word book on Plato called Plato and the Hero, and much of it was on The Republic. Condensing what I wanted to say to around 5,500 words was often painful: not just slicing away excess flesh but cutting into bone. I was counting not only words but characters and spaces, and was able to exceed the suggested word length simply by dint of using shorter words.
The 24 illustrations were also a challenge, although I loved collaborating with the immensely gifted and imaginative Angelo Rinaldi. I had to come up with the idea for each one, and I then worked closely with Angelo on details of design and colour. In fact, when being forced to cut out yet another metaphysical argument became too painful, I found solace in researching hairstyles or Pamphylian armour (for the Myth of Er) or what exact dyes were available in fifth-century Athens (when the dialogue is set, although Plato wrote it in the fourth century).
I have always been interested in art, but coming up with ways to depict or suggest some of the philosophical subjects was not easy, particularly the perfect and eternal Forms (such as the Form of the Good), which cannot be apprehended by the senses. But I found that if I was cunning I could use the images not simply to convey atmosphere but to smuggle in additional information that there had not been room to include in the text.
I learned a lot. Although I have studied and written about The Republic for many years, I had not known much about how it was physically composed, copied and distributed around the Greek world (in the following century it appears in the great library in Alexandria); nor had I been fully aware of just how many individuals, disciplines and art forms it has influenced. The film The Matrix, for example, adapts the Simile of the Cave in its disturbing portrayal of humans unknowingly trapped in a fake reality.
All the evidence pointed to what I had long felt myself. Despite the fact that most of us find some of the proposals put forward by the character of Socrates too extreme – such as the abolition of the nuclear family amongst the Guardian class and, indeed, the totalitarian nature of the ideally just state in general – Plato nevertheless asks absolutely the right questions, and his devastating analysis of the moral and political ills of his day is still only too pertinent.
Furthermore, in moving away from a theory of justice conceived in terms of external actions towards a notion of justice as internal psychic harmony, he gives us one of the truly seminal turning-points in Western thought, and one which Freud acknowledges as fundamental to his own work. We may well profoundly disagree with some features of the ideal state that Socrates outlines, but The Republic remains a treasure trove and each new generation will be able to find much in it to illuminate the challenges it faces.
By Mary Naples, Contributing Writer, Classical Wisdom
Before apocryphally rolling out of the carpet and into legend, Cleopatra (69 BCE-30 BCE) already had a storied past. The twenty-one-year old and her thirteen-year old brother-husband Ptolemy XIII (62 BCE-47 BCE) ruled together for close to two years before said brother—under the influence of his overly ambitious advisors—successfully banished Cleopatra from Alexandria. Prudently using her mastery of the Egyptian language—the first Ptolemy to do so in the nearly three-hundred-year-old dynasty—Cleopatra mounted an army to defeat Ptolemy. It was only shortly thereafter that she had the legendary encounter with Caesar. Yet most of what has been penned about Cleopatra was drawn after her stars became aligned with those of ancient Rome; written from the decidedly biased perspective of the Romans. Time and again we know Cleopatra as the subversive siren from the corrupted East who seduced two of ancient Rome’s greatest generals.
What could account for so much ire against the Egyptian queen? The truth is that in order to justify an unpopular civil war against his rival Mark Antony (83 BCE-30 BCE), Gaius Octavius “Octavian” (later Augustus—63 BCE-14 CE) launched first a propaganda campaign then a full-scale war against Egypt by painting Cleopatra as an Eastern harlot who seduced Antony with her blend of depraved sorcery. Octavian’s crusade against her soon took hold in the rank imaginations of the xenophobic and misogynist Romans. In his Odes, Horace calls her a “fatal monster,” Sextus Propertius refers to her as the “whore queen” in Elegies and in Lucan’s Poems she is termed “Egypt’s shame.” Yet what is never mentioned about the Egyptian queen is that she didn’t have a drop of Egyptian blood. In fact, her lineage derived from a Macedonian Greek, celebrated as a hero in ancient Rome, whose military accomplishments were the ambition of every Roman leader.
It is an irony that forasmuch as the Romans glorified Alexander the Great (356 BCE-323 BCE), they heaped an equivalent amount of scorn and disdain on Cleopatra who was not only Alexander’s political heir but may very well have been his biological heir as well. Founding member of the Ptolemaic dynasty, Ptolemy I Soter (367 BCE-83 CE) was one of Alexander’s three most trusted Macedonian generals and by some accounts, his half-brother as well. Although vilified within Greek city states, polygamy was practiced in the Greek kingdom of Macedonia, especially amongst the ruling class. Phillip II (386-336 BCE), Alexander’s father, had several wives and many children; Ptolemy was the son of one of his multiple wives. Alexander even had a sister named Kleopatra, which in Greek means “glory of the father.” Truth told, Cleopatra was a common name amongst queens in Ptolemaic Egypt; Cleopatra, its final queen, was number seven. Alas, Cleopatra’s link to Alexander continued after her demise; the Hellenistic period begins and ends with the deaths of Alexander and Cleopatra.
After Alexander’s death, his empire was divided between his three generals with Ptolemy winning the grand prize of Egypt. Alexandria, founded by Alexander in 331 BCE, had become Egypt’s new Hellenistic capital. Because of the optimal location of Alexandria’s port—midway between the burgeoning metropolis of Rome and the orient—it was transformed into an international market and intellectual mecca almost overnight. During its peak Alexandria was the largest and most affluent city in the world; the upstart, backwater Rome paled in comparison to the glittering marble and jewel-encrusted splendor of Alexandria. Sparing no expense for their shining city by the bay, the early Ptolemies were responsible for commissioning some of the most notable architecture of the ancient world. The Lighthouse of Alexandria, one of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World, was built on the island of Pharos adjacent to Alexandria, it stood at an indomitable height of more than three hundred and fifty feet—only the pyramids at Giza were higher. Another draw for both Greeks and Romans alike was the sumptuous and much coveted glass enclosed Tomb of Alexander, first on display in the former capital of Memphis then permanently housed in Alexandria. Further, under Ptolemy I the Great Library of Alexandria and its accompanying museum (mouseion-home of the muses) was built. Second to none in the Hellenized world, the transcendent Great Library and Mouseion attracted the best minds of the day with it becoming a mark of distinction to be educated by an Alexandrian scholar. No other library in the world could boast the number of scrolls with estimates ranging from 40,000-400,000. Intellectually gifted with a talent for language—she was fluent in nine of them—it was in this rarified space that Cleopatra flourished.
Even her most ardent detractors begrudgingly praise Cleopatra on her considerable conversational and rhetoric skills. In his Lives of Marcus Antonius Plutarch quips: “Plato speaks of four kinds of flattery, but Cleopatra knew a thousand.” While her sweeping intellect and aptitude for languages was innate, her erudition and rhetoric skills could only have been learned. Though the Greeks kept their daughters in a state of near ignorance, the Ptolemaic females were educated alongside their male counterparts. After all, on account of sibling marriage, Ptolemaic girls stood just as good a chance at governing as their boys. Sibling marriage was a tradition that the Ptolemies continued from their Pharoahic forebears and was used as a means of keeping power amongst the clan by not weakening the Macedonian bloodline; it also helped prevent foreign powers from infiltrating Egypt.
While growing up, Cleopatra didn’t have to look far to find authoritative female role models. Sibling marriage gave Ptolemaic women power they would never have otherwise had; the sister/wives ruled right alongside their brother/husbands in governance. In an era when women were better seen (though rarely in public) than heard, Ptolemaic female rulers were responsible for overseeing public works, building temples, mounting defense and waging war. Moreover, Egypt was a country which was progressive for its time in gender relations. Unlike in Greece, Egyptian women could make their own marriages and once married did not have to defer to their husband’s will. They could divorce, hold property and were able to inherit. All things of which Greek women could only dream.
Though Egyptian women may have been liberated, in Ptolemaic Egypt, queens still needed a male co-regent. Cleopatra’s options were limited. Her choices were her ten-year-old brother, or her even younger brother. Married in name only, Cleopatra ruled as the sole monarch with Ptolemy XIII, as consort for the close to two years after which time he and his counsels had her ousted. Just as she was amassing an army in Syria to take back the throne, a Civil War ensued between Julius Caesar (100 BCE-44 BCE) and Gnaeus Pompeius Magnus or Pompey (106 BCE-48 BCE). After Caesar’s victory at Pharsalus, in order to remain in good graces with the victor, Ptolemy XIII, with the help of his notorious advisors drew up a plan to dispatch their old friend and benefactor Pompey by repeatedly stabbing him as he stepped ashore in Egypt. For this heinous act, Ptolemy XIII landed in the ninth circle of Dante’s Inferno, alongside Judas. Shortly thereafter, upon visiting Egypt, Caesar was presented with Pompey’s decapitated head as a gift which the boy-king thought the Roman dictator would appreciate. Caesar was repulsed and reportedly wept upon seeing the head of his adversary who had once been a close friend and his former son-in-law.
The history of Cleopatra’s activities during this time is murky. Indeed, her story isn’t fully recorded until it aligns with that of the Rome’s. What we do know is that shortly after Caesar lands in Egypt, Cleopatra exhibits all the ingenuity for which she would become famous. Did she first meet Caesar rolled up in a carpet as Plutarch reports? She would have had to do something outrageous as the cards were mightily stacked against her. According to legend, while in a ship she slipped by dark of night through Ptolemy’s impenetrable blockade then hid in the paltry boat of Apollodorus the Sicilian. We’ll never know how he did it, but somehow while Cleopatra was wrapped in a carpet, Apollodorus strode past the probing eyes of countless sentinels who were on the lookout for the diminutive queen, finally presenting his precious cargo into the private quarters of the Roman general himself. There is much speculation about their first encounter. Ever the ladies’ man, Caesar was likely soon smitten by the charismatic and erudite Cleopatra whom he promptly restored to the throne to rule alongside her impetuous and errant brother as their father’s will had dictated. When it was made known to Ptolemy XIII that he would once again be ruling alongside his sister, in a rage, he threw off his crown and ran out of the room in tears—displaying all of his thirteen years of age.
Alas, poor Ptolemy! After his tantrum, he was not much long for the world. He was believed drowned during the prolonged Battle of Alexandria which ensued shortly after Caesar reinstalled Cleopatra to the crown. Ptolemy XIV (61 BCE-44 BCE) soon followed XIII in co-regency, but once Cleopatra produced her (and Caesar’s) male heir and consort—Caesarion or Ptolemy XV (47 BCE-30 BCE), XIV’s time on the planet didn’t fare much longer than his unfortunate brother. It should be noted here that although the Ptolemies were known for many things throughout their nearly three-hundred-year dynasty, familial harmony was not one of them. A long history of bloodlust follows the clan. Even Cleopatra’s own father had her eldest sister, Berenice IV (77 BCE-55 BCE), executed for usurping the throne during his time away in Rome. Notorious for conspiring against her while they were alive, Cleopatra’s three remaining siblings were ultimately all put to rest during her reign.
Cast as a femme fatale by the victor’s propagandists, to this day Cleopatra’s astounding achievements have often been overlooked. When she inherited the throne from her father, she also inherited an Egypt that was a weak client of Rome’s and in substantial debt. Yet in the space of a few short years in a series of clever financial maneuvers she was able to transform Egypt’s debt into surplus and regain Egypt’s status as a power player. Under her aegis, Egypt became a flourishing state once again; Alexandrians, long known for their revolts against her predecessors when times were lean (there were two such insurrections against her father) were sufficiently appeased never to stage a revolt during Cleopatra’s twenty-one-year reign.
Despite Rome being hot on her heels, Cleopatra not only expanded Egypt’s empire to its size at the time of Alexander the Great, she went beyond those borders to Egypt’s size at its pinnacle one thousand years earlier. She transformed Egypt into a world superpower, the entirety of the known world within her grasp. After hers and Antony’s crushing defeat at the Battle of Actium in 31 BCE, bountiful Egypt became the Roman province for which Octavian yearned. Yet for all the Roman ire against Cleopatra, Egypt didn’t soon forget their regal queen whom in life they revered as a deity. For hundreds of years after her death she was still worshipped and even today is celebrated throughout the world as an icon, oftentimes compared to her predecessor and exemplar, Alexander the Great.
With an emphasis in Women’s Studies, Mary Naples earned a Master of Arts in Humanities from Dominican University of California in 2013. Her deep love of antiquity is reflected in her writing which, amongst other things, explores women’s narratives in the Greek and Roman worlds. Presently, she is working on an eBook about feminine consciousness in ancient Greece. More of her articles can be found on her website: www.femminaclassica.com. Since 2013, Mary has been a contributing writer for Classical Wisdom.
Written by Ed Whelan, Contributing Writer, Classical Wisdom
Petronius was one of the world’s first novelists and an important cultural figure in his day. He was influential in the Rome of Nero, but this would ultimately lead to his death.
Biography of Petronius
The chief source for the life of this fascinating character is the Roman historian Tacitus. It is most likely that his full name was Titus Petronius Niger. Based on the surviving sources it appears that he was a wealthy member of the Roman elite. Members of his class would have been expected to occupy important military and political posts. Petronius, however, was a notorious idler and lived a life dedicated to pleasure and the arts. Despite this, it appears that he served as the provincial governor of Bithynia and was even consul in 63 AD. He demonstrated a great deal of capabilities, but he soon returned to his disreputable ways.
Relationship with Nero
Yet, Petronius’ term as consul brought him to the attention of Nero. The Emperor and the Consul found that they both shared a love of the finer things, especially the arts. Nero soon admitted the ex-consul into his inner circle at Court. Petronius, a cultivated man, began to have influence on the Emperor. Nero appointed him to the unofficial position of ‘arbiter of elegance’, making his word final on all matters relating to taste and art at Court. As Petronius was becoming closer to Nero, the Emperor was living a debauched life, and becoming increasingly erratic and cruel. Many became jealous of Petronius’ close relationship with the Emperor, and it was feared that he could become too powerful at Court.
This jealousy and suspicion likely led to an event related by Tacitus. The chief of the Praetorian Guard falsely claimed that Petronius was plotting to assassinate him in 66 AD. In reality, Petronius was innocent and there was no plot. Despite their former closeness, Nero immediately had him detained at Cumae, near modern Naples. Petronius decided to kill himself to avoid torture and execution. It is reported by Tacitus that he slit his veins, and then had his slaves bind them up. This was to prolong his life and allow him time to say goodbye to friends and family. He spent the last few hours of his life gossiping with friends, listening to music, and reading his favourite poems. He had his favourite slaves and servants rewarded, while those who had not pleased him, he had punished.
According to Tacitus, Petronius then fell asleep and never awoke. Before his death, he is said to have ordered for a beautiful vase of his to be destroyed, as he knew that Nero has admired it as well. He did not want the Emperor to seize it after his death, and in this small way, he frustrated the man who had forced him to take his own life.
Despite the high drama and intrigue of his life, Petronius is best known today for his masterpiece, the Satyricon, one of the earliest examples of what could be described as a ‘novel’. Although the Satyricon is attributed to Petronius, there does exists some ambiguity over whether he really wrote it. As is common with ancient literature, much of it has been lost. We only have approximately 10% of this work, but what remains is remarkable and deeply influential.
The Satyricon narrates the adventures of three adventurers, Encolpius, his boyfriend, and his slave as they make their way through the underbelly of Roman society. It is an episodic picaresque novel, and it is believed that the intended audience was Nero and his courtiers, as the sources tell us that Nero and his intimates were fascinated by the low life of Rome. Petronius’ work is comic, satiric, and features the three anti-heroes in a series of disreputable encounters. Much of the Satyricon contains independent stories that are only loosely related to the adventures of the central characters.
The best-known section of the work that survives is the Banquet of Trimalchio (or Cena Trimalchionis in Latin). It gives a wonderful description of a party given by an ex-slave Trimalchio, who is now fabulously rich. The dinner is in Campania and is attended also by other rich former slaves. Many believe that Petronius was mocking what he perceived as the pretensions of the freedman class in Roman society. He portrays the ex-slaves as vulgar, tasteless, and hypocritical. Many commentators also believe that Petronius is satirising Nero and his vulgarity and tastelessness.
The language used in the novel is remarkably clear and beautiful, and the Latin is still admired to this day. Lovers of literature still read this episodic novel, especially the famed Banquet of Trimalchio. The work is also a priceless source of information about the social life of Rome in the First Century A.D.
The influence of The Satyricon reaches far, directly into one of the most famous and acclaimed works of literature of the twentieth century. In the figure of Trimalchio – a freed slave, trying to gain the respect of the high society he has entered into – novelist F. Scott Fitzgerald saw a prototype for the mysterious ‘new money’ figure of Jay Gatsby, from his widely celebrated novel, The Great Gatsby. In fact, one of Fitzgerald’s original titles for the novel made the comparison explicit: Trimalchio in West Egg (and elsewhere, simply, Trimalchio). Ultimately, of course, Fitzgerald went with the snappier title of The Great Gatsby, but an early version of the novel bearing that title has been published since his death. A slightly more recent work, much more directly inspired by the Satyricon, is the film adaptation by revered filmmaker Federico Fellini, known as the Fellini Satyricon.
Petronius was an important figure in the reign of Nero. He was an important courtier and an aesthete who believed that taste and beauty were more important than duty. If, as is widely believed, he was the author of the Satyricon, Petronius was one of the world’s first novelists and his work influenced the development of the genre, and artists centuries after his death.
Morton Braund, Susanna (2002) Latin literature. New York: Routledge.
Written by Ed Whalen, Contributing Writer, Classical Wisdom
Ancient Rome was a brutal place where life was cheap. Romans accepted violence and oppression as part of everyday life, evidenced by their terrible treatment of slaves. However, in the first century AD, even they were appalled by the murders and practices of a woman known as Locusta the Poisoner. Involved in the deaths of countless people, Locusta—possibly the first documented female serial killer in history—played a crucial role in the history of the Imperial Family.
Poison and the Black Arts in Ancient Rome
In Graeco-Roman society, murder was much more common than today, even during the so-called Pax Romana. Poison was frequently used to dispose of one’s personal enemies and to settle feuds. It appears that there were many women in particular who had knowledge of natural poisons and could concoct lethal potions.
However, it is believed that many males were also adept at making poisons. Often the makers of these lethal concoctions were regarded as sorcerers or witches. It appears that Locusta may also have dabbled in the occult and many sources refer to her as a sorceress.
The Grisly Rise of Locusta
Several sources mention Locusta, including one of Rome’s greatest historians, Tacitus. It was widely held that she was from Gaul (modern-day France). It is not known if she immigrated to Rome or had been brought to the city as a slave. Tradition states that she came from a poor peasant family and she learned how to concoct the poisons from her Celtic ancestors. It appears that Locusta was dedicated to her art and studied many plants and herbs. This allowed her to invent new poisons.
In Rome, she appears to have teamed up Canidia and Martina, forming an infamous trio of female prisoners. The exact nature of the relationship between these women is not known, but Locusta was the most prominent. She was either the most accomplished of the trio or possibly their leader. It seems that their services were much in demand, especially from the rich. Their poisons were suspected in many murders. Indeed, they ended up in prison at least twice, but each time they were released after interventions from some of their aristocratic clients.
Locusta and the Imperial Family
In 54 AD, Locusta was contacted by Agrippina the Younger, the niece and wife of Emperor Claudius. Agrippina wanted to poison Claudius so that her son Nero could become Emperor. Agrippina had Locusta brew a poison made out of deadly nightshade that killed Claudius. This paved the way for the succession of Nero. Agrippina then had Locusta thrown in jail to deflect suspicion. Who was going to believe the word of Locusta against the Empress? She was later sentenced to death.
One source claims that Locusta was innocent and Claudius was actually killed by his doctor on Agrippina’s orders. Locusta was saved by none other than the new Emperor, Nero. He was clearly impressed by her abilities and knew that a poisoner was always needed in the vicious world of Roman politics. This may indicate that she was indeed the poisoner of Claudius.
In 55 AD, Locusta was released from prison and began to work for Nero as a state-poisoner. He had her brew a poison that killed his step-brother Britannicus, who had a stronger claim on the Imperial throne that he had. Locusta may have been an accomplice in the murder of Nero’s many real and imagined enemies. The Emperor was so impressed with her that he helped Locusta set up a school for poisoners where she trained many women in her black art.
The Fall of Nero and Locusta
Nero’s erratic and brutal behavior soon lost him the support of the Senatorial elite. In 68 AD, the Senate sentenced him to death after a series of revolts and mutinies. Nero later committed suicide in his palace. Emperor Galba replaced him and many of Nero’s supporters were executed. Locusta was arrested and sentenced to death. This time there was no one to help her to evade justice. It appears that she was dragged through the city in chains along with others who had been supporters of Nero.
According to one legend, she was tortured and humiliated in the arena and later torn apart by animals. We can be certain that she died a gruesome death. The story of Locusta entered Roman popular culture; her name became a by-word for evil and poisoning.
Locusta is arguably one of the most famous poisoners in history and probably the world’s first-known serial killer. Her career demonstrates the role that poison played in Roman society and also shows that the Roman world—despite its grandeur—was a brutal and vicious world. Locusta’s legacy was that she invented many more poisons who had many victims. Her school for poisoners may have trained many more in the creation of lethal potions and substances. Long after she was brought to justice, her poisons were probably still killing people.
Written by Ed Whalen, Contributing Writer, Classical Wisdom
Many women have made an important contribution to philosophy, and one of the most famous—or indeed infamous—female philosopher is Hipparchia (fl. 300 B.C.). Married to a leading Cynic philosopher, Hipparchia greatly contributed to the development of Cynicism and helped popularize it in the Classical World.
What Were The Teachings Of The Cynics?
One of the founders of Cynicism was Diogenes of Sinope, who infamously lived in a barrel. Cynics sought ‘peace of mind’ by living according to nature. They rejected contemporary civilization and society and also all comforts and amenities. Living a natural life was the only way to live ethically because they believed that civilization was corrupt. They taught that humans only needed the basics required for survival.
Cynics abandoned all material possession and only wore simple clothes and begged for their food, mocking those who lived a conventional lifestyle, especially the rich. They aimed to live their philosophy, and in so doing teach people to live in accordance with nature. Many believe they influenced the development of Stoicism.
Hipparchia was born sometime between 340-320 BC. Her family hailed from Maroneia, which is in Thrace, and were members of the local aristocracy. According to ancient sources, which may have sensationalized her life, she refused to conform and was something of a rebel. Her younger brother Metrocles was sent to Athens to study rhetoric and philosophy. He became attracted to the Cynic school and introduced his sister to it. Hipparchia embraced their doctrines.
Around this time she came into contact with Crates, an Athenian, who is widely seen as one of the greatest of all the cynic thinkers. Hipparchia fell madly in love with Crates; she was completely enamored by mind and his physique. She demanded they marry, which was very unconventional. He was reluctant and he only agreed to marry her when she threatened suicide.
According to one source, the couple consummated their marriage in public, which was in keeping with the Cynics’ call to live naturally. The marriage was unconventional because, contrary to Greek norms, Hipparcia appeared with her husband in public and was very independent. She had several children with Crates and also managed the household.
Hipparchia also attended public debates and argued for the equality of the sexes. In many ways, she was a liberated woman in a society that was patriarchal and even misogynistic. It is believed she raised her children to live according to Cynic teachings, Her date of death is not known. She was famous in her own time, Diogenes urging her native city of Maroneia to change its name to Hipparchia in her honor.
The Philosophy Of Hipparchia
It is recorded that Hipparchia wrote many philosophical works, but they have all been lost. Indeed, almost all we know about this remarkable female philosopher comes from later Greek and Byzantine sources. It appears that Hipparchia helped to refine important aspects of Cynic thought.
She was known for her brilliant use of the rhetorical trope known in Greek as spoudogeloion. This was a syllogism that used humor to reveal some idea or argument and was often used to discredit conventional beliefs. Hipparchia used these to refute arguments about the natural inferiority of women.
The philosopher was also famous for her promotion of the Cynic concept of anaideia (shamelessness). The Cynics believed that shamelessness was necessary so that people could overcome conventions and live as natural as animals and birds. Hipparchia embodied the concept of anaideia, as she refused to act like a ‘respectable’ woman. A good example of her anaideia was when she won a debate and her opponent tried to strip her naked. She did nothing and was quite happy to be seen naked, which was contrary to all social norms. Hipparchia came to personify the Cynic doctrines and her commitment to poverty and a life of simplicity won her many admirers even among those who denounced the philosophies.
The Influence Of Hipparchia
Writers from her own time and later were fascinated by the female philosopher. She was an example for those who favored free-love and gender equality. She did a lot to promote the teachings of the Cynics.
Her views on the need to live in harmony with nature influenced Zeno of Citium, the founder of Stoicism. Zeno was reported to have praised the wife of Crates in one of his lost writings. The Stoic school went on to become tremendously influential in Hellenistic and later Roman civilization. The life and thought of Hipparchia has inspired female philosophers, especially in the 20th and 21st century.
A butterfly, Hipparchia, has been named in her honor.
Hipparchia proved that philosophy was not a male pursuit in the Classical World. The female philosopher made an important contribution to the development of Cynicism. She embodied the very essence of the teaching and she challenged the conventions of the time. She not only wrote philosophy but lived it—making her a unique figure in the history of ideas and civilization.
Dudley, R. (1937), A History of Cynicism from Diogenes to the 6th Century A.D. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press
Text by Pyrrhonist philosopherSextus Empiricus (c. 160 – c. 210 AD) translated by Richard Bett, Contributing Writer, Classical Wisdom
Since most people have declared that god is a most active cause, let’s first examine god, with this preface—that following ordinary life without opinions, we say that there are gods and we worship gods and we say that they show providence; it’s against the rashness of the dogmatists that we say the following things.
[Note: ordinary Greek religion recognized a huge number of different gods, often at odds with one another. But philosophers, even if they recognized numerous distinct divine beings, tended to conceive of the divine as united in a single character and a single purpose. Hence it makes sense that Sextus uses the plural “gods” in speaking of his adherence to ordinary religion, but the singular when discussing dogmatic views.]
When we conceive objects, we ought to conceive their being—for example, whether they are bodies or incorporeal. But also their forms; no one could conceive a horse without first having learned the form of a horse. Also, what is conceived ought to be conceived as somewhere.
Well, since some of the dogmatists say that god is a body, others that he is incorporeal; and some that he is human in form, others not; and some that he is in a place, others not; and of those who say he is in a place, some say this is within the universe, some outside it; how are we going to be able to gain a conception of god, if we don’t have any agreement on his being, or his form, or a place he occupies?
They should first agree on a common view, that god is such-and-such; only then, after giving us an outline of him, should they expect us to gain a conception of god. As long as they are in unresolved dispute, we don’t have from them any agreement on what we are to conceive.
But they say, once you have conceived something imperishable and blessed, consider that to be god. But this is silly. The person who doesn’t know Dion [note: often used as the name of an arbitrary person, like our Jane or John Doe] cannot conceive of his attributes, either, as those of Dion; in the same way, since we do not know the being of god, we also won’t be able to learn or conceive his attributes.
And aside from that, they should tell us what “blessed” is—is it what acts according to virtue and shows providence toward those things ranked below it, or is it what is inactive and neither has any trouble itself nor produces any for others? [Note: These are the Stoic and Epicurean conceptions of god respectively.] In fact, since they are in an unresolved dispute about this too, they have made us unable to conceive what’s blessed, and therefore also god.
But even allowing that god is conceived, it is necessary to suspend judgment on whether he exists or does not exist (as far as the dogmatists are concerned). That god exists is not clear on its face. If he came to our attention all by himself, the dogmatists would be of one voice on what he is, and of what kind, and where; but the unresolved dispute has made him seem to us to be unclear and in need of a demonstration.
Well, the person who demonstrates that there is a god demonstrates this either by means of something clear on its face or by means of something unclear. And there’s no way it can be by something clear on its face; for if what demonstrates that there is a god was clear on its face, then since what is demonstrated is conceived in relation to what does the demonstrating, and for that reason is grasped together with it, as we established, it will also be clear on its face that there is a god—that will be grasped together with what demonstrates it, which is clear on its face. [Note in reference to ‘as we have established’: this can be found in the discussion of demonstration in book II, which I have not included. But the very same point is made about signs at II.125; see n.5 in chapter 4. (The argument is just as fishy here.)]
But it is not clear on its face, as we mentioned; therefore it is not demonstrated by means of something clear on its face. But not by something unclear either. For the unclear thing that has the job of demonstrating that there is a god will be in need of demonstration. If it is said to be demonstrated by something clear on its face, it will no longer be unclear but clear on its face. The unclear thing that has the job of demonstrating it is therefore not demonstrated by something clear on its face.
But not by something unclear either; for the person who says this will fall into an infinite regress—we’ll always be asking for a demonstration of the unclear point brought up as a demonstration of the one offered the previous time.
Therefore it cannot be demonstrated that there is a god from something else. But if it’s neither clear on its face by itself, nor is it demonstrated by something else, we will not be in a position to grasp whether there is a god.
There is also this to be said. The person who says that there is a god says either that he has providence for the things in the universe, or that he does not; and if he does have providence, it’s either for everything or for just some things. But if he had providence for everything, there wouldn’t be anything bad or any flaw in the universe; yet they say that everything is full of flaws; therefore god won’t be said to have providence for everything.
But if he has providence for just some things, why does he have providence for these things and not those? For either he both wants and is able to have providence for everything; or he wants to but is not able to; or he is able to but doesn’t want to; or he neither wants nor is able to. But if he both wanted to and was able to, he would have providence for everything; but he doesn’t have providence for everything, given what was just said; therefore it’s not that he both wants and is able to have providence for everything.
If he wants to but is not able to, he is weaker than what causes him to be unable to have providence for the things he doesn’t have providence for; but it goes against the conception of god for him to be weaker than anything. If he can have providence for everything, but doesn’t want to, he must be considered to be malicious. And if he neither wants to nor can, he is both malicious and weak; but people who say that about god are impious. Therefore god does not have providence for the things in the universe.
But if he doesn’t show providence for anything, and he doesn’t do any work or accomplish anything, one will not be able to say how it is grasped that there is a god, seeing that he is neither apparent by himself nor is grasped by means of some accomplishments. For these reasons too, therefore, we are not in a position to grasp whether there is a god.
From these points we reckon that those who say with full commitment that there is a god are probably forced into impiety. If they say that he has providence for everything, they will be saying that god is a cause of bad things, while if they say that he has providence for just some things, or even for nothing, they will be forced to say that god is either malicious or weak—and people who say these things are quite clearly impious.
This extract from the book “How to Keep An Open Mind” (Princeton University Press, 2021) was published with the permission of the author.