(In
the chronological sequence within the Significant
Others section, this entry follows The
Dogs Of Virtue, devoted to the Greek
Cynics, which was posted on this blog in two parts: on September 17/18, 2012.)
In
all reputable histories of philosophy it is customary to place the Greek skeptics
after the Greek cynics. I, however, am not writing another such
history. My organizational principle for this section,-- as well as for the
previous one-- is purely chronological, in the sense that if Epicurus’ date of
birth precedes that of Zeno the Stoic and Timon the Skeptic, then Epicurus must
come up first. Technical, but simple, and well suited for my particular purpose
here. (For the formal record, Epicurus lived from 342 to 270 BC, and died, most
probably of kidney stones, at the age of 72.)
Considering
how badly the modern meaning of the word “cynic” has diverged
from the Greek original, the linguistic incongruity in that case is horrible,
but not as bad as in the case of the poor old sick philosopher Epicurus, which
takes the cake as the worst case of philosophical misconstruction in history.
In
the popular mind, Epicurus was a promoter of pleasure at all costs, a dissipate
“epicure” (this word has entered all dictionaries to denote a discerning
gourmet, a lover of sensual pleasures, and of luxury, hardly a man having
anything to do with intellectual pursuits, and philosophy), and likewise. This
is a sad injustice to his memory. Epicurus was, above all, a great philosopher.
Our old friend W. T. Jones treats him as a pre-Socratic, adding him and
Lucretius to Leucippus and Democritus in the long chapter on Atomism. Russell
gives him a full long chapter in his History of Western Philosophy. Epicurus
is one of the most interesting and profound philosophers to Schopenhauer, and,
as for Nietzsche, the great genius chooses him as one of the eight great shadows
he has descended into the underworld to communicate with… Nietzsche identifies
him with great precision not as a hedonist, but an optimist, asking the following question: “Could it be that Epicurus was an optimist precisely because
he suffered?”
He
is, however, dissatisfied with Epicurus’ definition of happiness, that is the
highest good, as “the absence of pain,” which
for him is overly passive and philosophically negative (defined as the absence
of evil). But this treatment of pain as the worst evil and an obstacle to all
kinds of virtues, has attracted Schopenhauer the most to Epicurus’ teachings,
and ipse facto proves both the great Greek’s philosophical originality
and his considerable theoretical value.
Among
other examples of Epicurus’ appreciation by all serious thinkers, is the fact
that Karl Marx made a comparison of the Democritean and Epicurean philosophies
of nature the subject of his doctoral thesis. As for Epicurus’ influence on
John Locke and the founding fathers of the American Revolution, this is a well-known
fact. Thomas Jefferson even considered himself an Epicurean, and wrote the
following in his Letter to William Short, written in 1819: I am an Epicurean. I consider the genuine (not the imputed!)
doctrines of Epicurus as containing everything rational in moral philosophy
which Greece and Rome left us.
In
summary of his views, the purpose of philosophy was to attain the happy,
tranquil life, characterized by “ataraxia,” peace and freedom from fear,
and “aponia,” the absence of pain, and by living a self-sufficient life,
surrounded by friends. He taught that pleasure and pain are the measures of
what is good and bad, that death is the end of the body and the soul, and
should therefore not be feared, that the gods do not reward or punish humans,
that the universe is infinite and eternal, and, being an Atomist and follower
of Democritus, he proposed that all events are of necessity based on the
motions and interactions of atoms moving in empty space.
As
we look at the Greek words ataraxia and aponia, it is easy to see
what Nietzsche had in mind: they both contain the negative prefix a-. With
regard to his teaching on the importance of friendship, it will be easy to see
how a prejudiced mind can deliberately and maliciously misinterpret the
following line on friendship as a hedonistic advice on how to throw a
boisterous party: “We should look for someone to eat
and drink with before looking for something to eat and drink, for dining alone
is leading the life of a lion or wolf.”
The
present entry’s title’s question of gross misconstruction may have already been
answered in part, that is without resorting to a lengthy discourse on
philosophical Epicureanism which the reader may find in proper academic
reference sources, but this is a relatively minor task. The bigger question is
why such a deliberate misrepresentation has become possible in the first place.
One
of the reasons for this historical travesty was competition from the Stoics,
who saw Epicureanism as a threat to their own philosophy, and therefore tried
(successfully, as we shall see) to misrepresent, and even foul-mouth Epicurus
in any which way they could. The illustrious Epictetus, whom we shall talk
about in a later entry, talks about Epicurus in his Discourses in the following,
most unseemly manner: “This is the life of which
you pronounce yourself worthy: eating, drinking, copulation, evacuation, and
snoring.”
Epicurus
was an unpretentious man living a simple life, and although he liked to dine in
the company of his brothers, pupils, friends, women, and slaves (he was
naturally egalitarian, and his relationships with women were always on a
friendship basis), the meals usually consisted of bread and water. (Having
cheese for dinner constituted an Epicurean feast!) As he wrote in an often cited letter, “I am thrilled with pleasure in the body when I live on bread and
water, and I spit on luxurious pleasures not for their own sake, but because of
the inconveniences that follow them… But send me some preserved cheese that
when I like I may have a feast.”
The
already incongruous prejudice against him, on the part of the Stoics, is
further magnified in Christian literature. The Christian Church objected to
Epicurus’ negative attitude toward religion and to his concept of death, plus,
to his denial of the immortality of the soul. All of this is true, although
Epicurus was not an atheist. But he saw religion and death as two major causes
of fear, and wished to neutralize that fear in his teachings. There will be no
punishment from the gods, either in this life (because the gods do not
interfere in human lives) nor after death, because death means the end of all
existence, and therefore the end of pain and suffering inherent in it.--- Death is nothing to us, he taught, for what is dissolved, is without sensation, and what lacks
sensation is nothing to us. When his time to die had come, he called
it this truly happy day of my life, as I am at the
point of death.
From
everything we know about him, Epicurus was a modest and honorable man. It is a
pity that the great Dante, through no personal fault of his, but clearly
influenced by the dominant opinion of the Church, put this noble-hearted poor
sufferer in the flaming sixth circle of Hell reserved for unrepentant
heretics. (If we can still remember, Diogenes was allotted a place in the
harmless first circle!)
Epicurus’
most famous follower was the Roman poet Lucretius (99-55 BC), who, although not
an original thinker himself, popularized Epicurus’ teachings in his poetic
masterpiece De Rerum Natura. We will not have a special entry on
Lucretius in this or any other section of the book, but he certainly deserves a
highly honorable mention, both as a great poet and as the man thanks to whom we
have learned much more about Epicurus and the philosophy of Atomism than we
would have known otherwise, and such ignorance surely would have constituted a
shameful gap in our historical memory of the sources of Western Civilization.
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