THE DOGS OF VIRTUE. PART II

There is a good reason why I am giving so much room to Nietzsche in this entry on Cynicism. Nietzsche is fascinated with this subject, and on several occasions he fuses the original meaning of Cynicism as dog-like simplicity with the modern meaning as wicked sophistication. At one point, reminding me of Glenn Gould, on a dare, fusing the British and American national anthems into one, Nietzsche comes up with the following immortal line: “Of what is great one must either be silent or speak with greatness. With greatness: that means cynically and with innocence.” (Wille Zur Macht, Preface, #1. See also my eponymous entry posted on February 26^th, 2012.) Go figure which meaning of cynicism is employed here! In Nietzsche’s treatment, they have become indistinguishable…

There is yet another reference to Diogenes in Nietzsche’s writings, this time explicit, in Menschliches 457, under the heading Slaves and Workers:

“That we lay more value on satisfying our vanity than on other comforts (such as security, shelter, pleasure of all kinds) is revealed to a ludicrous degree by the fact that (except for political reasons) everyone desires the abolition of slavery and utterly abhors bringing men into this state, although each of us ought to admit that slaves live more securely and happily than the modern worker in every regard, and that slave labor is very little labor, compared to that of the worker. One protests in the name of human dignity, but, expressed plainly, this is the good old vanity which experiences not-being-equal-to or publicly-being-esteemed-lower as the harshest fate. The Cynic thinks differently about this matter, because he scorns honor; and so, for a time, Diogenes was a slave and a tutor.”

The last passage referred to an alleged fact in Diogenes’ life, to the effect that, having been once captured by pirates, he was sold into slavery in Corinth, and when asked by his master what he could do, he replied “Govern men,” for which answer he was placed in charge of his master’s sons, who learned to follow their tutor’s ascetic example. The rest of the story differs from version to version: he was either released by his master later or died as a highly honored slave in Corinth, but its moral remains the same in every account. This is of course an allegory: Diogenes the slave becomes the master, and the master submits to him…

…The freedom of the slave and the slavery of the free--- how cynical and how modern!!!

Some accounts identify Diogenes of Sinope (our Diogenes) as the father of cynicism, which in its authentic form significantly differs from our impression of it, as I have already mentioned. Let us therefore say a few words about Cynicism proper.

No writings of the Cynics are extant, and probably there haven’t been any, since cynicism was a way of life, rather than a specially articulated doctrine. According to Diogenes Laertius, their life was seen by them as a “shortcut to virtue.” There were three cornerstones of such dog’s life, namely: eleutheria, freedom, or liberty; autarkeia, self-sufficiency; and finally parrhēsia, freedom of speech. The first concept is well illustrated by the story of Diogenes’ formal enslavement in Corinth, where he turned the tables on his rich owner. The second condition required a well-disciplined life of minimal needs and inurement to hardship, which was achieved through “training,” askesis, in Greek, from which comes our familiar term asceticism. Such life was called by the cynics “living according to nature.” (If this phrase, later picked up by the Stoics and appropriated by them as their own, since the cynics left no writings after them,  has not rung an instant bell, find it in my posted entry of November 8^th, 2011.)

The third condition requires a deliberate effort to speak truth to power, and as such, may have caused a lot of trouble for the cynics who practiced it, although in several examples of parrhesia provided by Diogenes Laertius, the powerful are enlightened and sympathetic enough, for the cynic’s courage to be rewarded (by the absence of a reprisal). One legend reports a meeting between Alexander the Great and Diogenes. “I am Alexander the Great,” says the king. “I am Diogenes the Dog,” responds the cynic. Very much impressed, Alexander tells Diogenes to ask of him whatever he wants. “Stand out of my sunlight,” asks the cynic.

Another legend points out the fact that great philosophers of antiquity liked to associate with rulers of states. (Plato with the tyrant Dionysius II, Aristotle with the Macedonian kings, etc.). Now, Diogenes Laertius has a story of how “Plato saw [Diogenes] washing lettuces, came up to him and told him, ‘Had you paid court to Dionysius, you wouldn’t now be washing lettuces,’ to which [Diogenes] with equal calmness replied, ‘If you had washed lettuces, you wouldn’t have paid court to Dionysius.’”

Diogenes lived between 412 and 323 BC, dying a very old man. In his young years, he had to flee from his native Sinope because either his father alone, or he together with his father, were involved in defrauding the local mint. Soon finding himself in Athens, he became a follower of one of the students of Socrates, the philosopher Antisthenes, who, allegedly, did not want to have students, but was worn out by Diogenes’ persistence, as the latter stuck by him, despite being badly beaten by Antisthenes’ stick. Antisthenes lived between 446 and 366 BC and, according to some sources, was the founder of Cynicism, the teaching that attracted Diogenes to him. He is mentioned both by Plato and Xenophon as one of Socrates’ companions, and even if he was not the founder of cynicism, although Diogenes Laertius alleges he was, he must have been its close spiritual forerunner. Several signature traits of the Cynics (such as doubling one’s cloak, in order to sleep in it, or always carrying a wallet and a staff with him) are attributed in equal measure to Antisthenes and Diogenes. Antisthenes’ favorite dictum used to be May the sons of your enemies live in luxury! As for yet another one of the Diogenes legends, here is the last one for the road, told again by Diogenes Laertius:

…When Plato was asked, what sort of man Diogenes was, Plato responded: “A Socrates gone mad!”

On this delightful note I am presently concluding this already oversized entry, which does not do justice to either Diogenes or Antisthenes, or to the subject of Cynicism, for that matter. I shall return to this subject again, as promised, in my entry The Greek Cynics And The Christian Ascetics, which is coming next.