Discourses and Selected Writings by Epictetus

Epictetus was a freed slave who lived in Nicopolis, on what is now the northern Adriatic coast of Greece.  There he ran a school of Stoic philosophy.  His dates are given as c.C.E. 55-135.  He taught during the reigns of the Roman emperors Trajan and Hadrian.

His teaching were written down by his pupil Arrian, who is more famous for writing a history of Alexander the Great.  They are available to us courtesy of almost 2000 years of care and scholarship and, finally, by the modern cultural miracle that is Penguin Books.

Philosophy in the Roman world at that time was divided into four main schools: Stoic, Cynic, Skeptic and Epicurean. The latter three held an atomistic view of universe, where events happened mechanically and there was no room for either the gods or freewill.  The Stoics, on the other hand, believed in a Creator (the universe) and an odd mixture of free-will and determinism.  They believe that we all contain within in us a portion of the divine, that we are citizens of the universe, and that our task in life is to bring our will into agreement with the natural order.

Epictetus starts his discourse by examining what we can and cannot control.  Once this is done, he says, we can stop fretting over the things we cannot control and start cultivating the things we can control.  On his analysis, the only thing over which we have control is our character.  Our social aspirations, our reputations and even our bodies are beyond our control.  Happiness, then, lies not in "climbing the ladder" because our promotion depends on the whims of other people; nor does it lie in our reputations as these depend on the good- or ill-will of others; and our bodies will break and decay whether we like it or not.

Where does happiness reside? First, in accepting that we are mortal, that we will age, get ill and eventually die.  This is our lot.  Secondly, coming to the realisation that we can never really own anything, that all things are temporarily loaned to us and will be taken away from us - either now by thieves, or later by death.  Finally, by taking control of our character through our directing will.

The Discourses, Fragments and Enchirion (Greek for "manual") contained in this volume are filled with arguments and advice about how to slough off bad habits of the mind and start honing what is really important: our individual character.  "I must die," he says. "But must I die bawling?"  His answer is no.

The selections in this book cover many aspects of life, but sometimes they get repetitive; however, Robert Dobbin's lively translation staves off the boredom.  I was very pleased to be able to listen to the voice of a freed slave coming through loud and clear across the centuries.  At a junction of our history where humans are about to eat the world through over-population and super-fuelled consumerism, reading Epictetus may take us a step closer to cooling down our individual and collective neuroses.

Publishing details: Discourses and Selected Writings by Epictetus (trans. Robert Dobbin, Penguin, London, 2008, pp.276)

The Legend of Sigurd and Gudrun by J.R.R. Tolkien

In this volume of posthumously-published work by J.R.R. Tolkien, we are treated to his reworking of two related tales  - from the Poetic or Elder Edda -  which  Tolkien's cast into modern(ish) English poems that follow the rules of Norse poetry. Christopher Tolkien guesses that his father wrote these poems some time in the early 1930s.

The two poems are preceded by an foreword by Christopher Tolkien which explains his father's interest in legends from "the nameless North", an essay by Tolkien, which probably was to be the basis of a lecture on the Elder Edda, and some brief notes related to the history and subject matter of the poems.  They are followed by three more broadly explanatory appendices by Christopher Tolkien regarding the origins of the legends, and the history of Attila the Hun.

The two poems themselves are a bit hard to follow if one is not already familiar with the original legends; however, Christopher Tolkien has provided helpful explanatory notes after each poem.  The difficulty of the poems is intentional: Tolkien was mimicking style of Old Norse poetry.  Here finesse in the form of the story was not paramount, what was desired was energy and the impact of the language and the sound of the language. As Tolkien says:

...Old English verse does not attempt to hit you in the eye. To hit you in the eye was the deliberate intention of the Norse poet ... Few who have been through this process can have missed the sudden recognition that they had unawares met something of tremendous force, something that in parts (for it has various parts) is still endowed with an almost demonic energy, in spite of the ruin of its form.

In short, the poems are fleet and vigorous, and they are short on narration and exposition.  And so it is with Tolkien's poems in this volume.  I admit I lost the thread of the story on more than one occasion, but I was rescued by the explanatory notes. Overall, I thoroughly enjoyed the experience.

So do you want to know what the poems were about? Well, read the book.

Publishing details: The Legend of Sigurd and Gudrun by J.R.R. Tolkien (edited by Christopher Tolkien, HarpersCollins, London, 2009, pp.376)

The Dhammapada

This book is categorised as religion/mythology, so let's start by talking money.  When I bought this book, its r.r.p. was $8.95.  Those were the days!

Talking about them thar days, The Dhammapada was probably composed about 2300 years ago, and is supposedly the words of the Buddha.  The book is divided into 26 chapters, and is made up of 423 short verses.  Each chapter treats with one or more of the concepts of the eightfold path of Buddhism, but its central message can be summed up with this verse:

Do not what is evil.
Do what is good.
Keep your mind pure.
This is the teaching of the Buddha.

 The translator Juan Mascaró has provided an extended introductory essay that is a gem especially cut for those who are seeking the Inner Light. 

I loved this book when I read it all those years ago. I love it now. And I have loved it all the times I have read it in between. The Dhammapada is compact; it is terse; it is short and easy to read, and yet it is powerful. There is a statement on every page that forces us to examine our preconceptions, our misconceptions and our complacency, and challenges us to change for the better. IMAO.

Publishing details: The Dhammapada translated by Juan Mascaró (Penguin, London, 1973, pp.93.)

The Letters of J.R.R. Tolkien by J.R.R. Tolkien

I never thought I would enjoy a book of someone's letters.  In the case of this book I was happily mistaken.  Of course, it doesn't hurt that J.R.R. Tolkien wrote my favourite book - The Lord of the Rings - so it makes sense that I might like to get an insight into his mind via a route other than his fiction.

The Letters of J.R.R. Tolkien encompasses his life from 1914 (when he was 22 years old) to 1973 (when he died a widower, aged 81) and is comprised of 354 of his letters (or excerpts thereof).  The first letter in the volume was addressed to Edith Bratt, his future wife and the mother of his four children.  The last letter was addressed to his only daughter Pricilla and was written just four days before his death.

The contents of the letters cover the main aspects of Tolkien's life: his family and friends, his academic career, his dealings with publishers and translators, and his fiction.  Through these letters we get a partial glimpse into an unfolding life. We find a man who is deep-minded, conservative, religious and loving and who, by turns, is also playful, fastidious or even utterly serious.

Fellow Middle Earth enthusiasts will enjoy the letters of explanation Tolkien wrote to his curious fans in the 50s and 60s who asked for details about hobbits and dwarves and elves and their histories.   I enjoyed those particular letters too. Amongst the other letters two are, to my mind, particularly memorable.  In the first, Tolkien describes the death of his former friend C.S. Lewis as 'an axe-blow near the roots', and an old man's pain is very evident and yet expressed with Edwardian restraint.  The second was addressed to his (now adult) son Michael, who was suffering from depression and 'sagging faith'.  Tolkien gently comforts his son and then tells him about the consolations of Christian faith: tender, poignant and deeply personal.

I am very glad that I read this book of Tolkien's letters.  I liked it so much that I think I will read it again in the near future, perhaps one letter a day, so I can stretch it out over the course of a year.   

Publishing details: The Letters of J.R.R. Tolkien, edited by Humphrey Carpenter (Harper Collins, London, 2006, pp.502)