The Land of Unlikeness

Due to the fantastic response we’ve garnered from our little Boethius snippet below, I’ve decided to push the envelope and post my recent essay on Boethius’s subtle subversion of philosophy. This is the first part.

The Consolation of Philosophy¹ has long been interpreted as a philosophical tour de force, written under duress, but no less magnificent or influential because of that duress. In fact, its dominance in medieval philosophy and theology was rivaled only by the renewed interest in the philosophical sources which it conveyed to scholastics of the middle ages, due in no small part to Boethius’ ambitious attempt to translate and comment on the Platonic and Aristotelian corpii. Its sway in the humanities has been less recognized in theological and philosophical circles. Not only was it translated into verse and prose by King Alfred, Queen Elizabeth I, and Chaucer, and borrowed heavily from by Dante; its creative combinations of original poetry and prose (prosimetrum), as well as philosophical dialogue and mythology arguably provided structural and substantial bases for The Divine Comedy and a number of Chaucer’s shorter poems and stories as well as “The Knight’s Tale” and “Troilus” in Canterbury Tales.²

Modern Christian readers tend toward two readings of the Consolation: they either baptize Boethius in a flat, non-literary, pedantic reading of the Consolation as a Christian text instructing a particular use of Philosophy, or they denounce him as at best a confused Christian engaged in an overly Platonized form of Christianity. Between these modern poles, we have Chaucer who uses the Consolation not to provide a “stable” intellectual platform for Christianity, but rather to destabilize reason and accepted norms, whether Christian or otherwise. Chaucer “was sensitive … to the tensions and uncertainties of Boethius’ text, the Roman author’s literary and intellectual subtlety, and his awareness of the uses of obliquity.”³ Following John Marenbon, I am suggesting that Chaucer’s model of a middle use is actually the proper use of the Consolation because it respects the milieu philosophical argumentation, the use of mythology, its several genres, and the author’s religious commitments.

It is my opinion that the normative, modern reception of the Consolation casts it as a didactic text, merely part of the compiling, commentary tradition of that era. However, if the above thesis is correct, that something like Chaucer’s “middle way” reading is best, then one can read the Consolation as Boethius challenge to Philosophy’s very ability to cash out her claims - to lead philosophers to the ultimate end of humanity. Thus, a suspicion or chastening of Philosophy is buried deep in the structure of the Consolation, making it anything but another work of the commentary tradition. It is not that Boethius has renounced Philosophy or is replacing her with something else. It is still the Consolation of Philosophy. And after all, Philosophy does come to comfort the innocent prisoner on death row. Rather, I am suggesting that couched within this overarching positive presentation of Philosophy is a subtle and far more complex subversion of Philosophy’s sufficiency, that is, her ability to exhaustively meet the demands of the classic Aristotelian doctrine of true happiness as not merely knowing but grasping or apprehending the good. While Philosophy makes many claims to be able to lead Boethius to such a grasp, the author Boethius never allows Philosophy to finish her quest or present a unified argument. Rather, one finds significant gaps in her overall presentation, due in part to the character Boethius’ voracious questioning, and also to Philosophy’s own arrogance and pretension.

1. Boethius, The Consolation of Philosophy, rev. ed., trans. Victor Watts (London: The Penguin Group, 1999), 47; subsequent quotations for the Consolation come from the revised Penguin edition, unless otherwise noted; line number references come from the latin in the Loeb Classical Library, new reprint ed., trans. H. F. Stewart, et al. (Cambridge, Mass: Harvard University Press, 2003).↩
2. Marenbon points to the influence of the Consolation on Alan de Lille’s (1128-1202) de planctu Naturae, Guillaume de Lorris’s unfinished Roman de la Rose (c. 1230), as well as Jean de Meun’s completion of the same work (c. 1270); cf. Marenbon, Boethius (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2003), 179-181.↩
3. Marenbon, Boethius, 182.↩