Great Deeds Research Articles

Law and Religion in Spain. A Very Short Overview

The history of the relationship between Law and Religion in Spain is a story of ups and downs. There are great deeds, such as the missions to the New World, and beautiful works of art across centuries by Jews, Muslims and Christians. But there are also horrible historical errors, like the expulsion of the Jews, the Spanish Inquisition, and the harsh religious persecution of the early twentieth century. Unfortunately, anti-Semitism, anti-Protestantism, anti-Catholicism, anti-Islamism, and many other antis have tarnished Spain’s long history.

The Mirage of the Saracen. Christians and Nomads in the Sinai Peninsula in Late Antiquity by Walter D. Ward

Reviewed by: The Mirage of the Saracen. Christians and Nomads in the Sinai Peninsula in Late Antiquity by Walter D. Ward Jitse H. F. Dijkstra Walter D. Ward The Mirage of the Saracen. Christians and Nomads in the Sinai Peninsula in Late Antiquity Transformation of the Classical Heritage 54 Oakland: University of California Press, 2015 Pp. xxvii + 193. $65.00. Following in the footsteps of Daniel F. Caner's disclosure (History and Hagiography from the Late Antique Sinai, 2010) of some of the most important sources for our understanding of the history of the late antique Sinai, Walter Ward has now written a synthesis on the topic. The book, which is a revised version of a 2008 thesis, focuses on the interactions between nomads and Christians in the area, in particular how the negative portrayal of these nomads in some of the sources contributed to Christian identity formation. As such it belongs to a growing number of studies on the Arabs before the rise of Islam (see e.g., J. H. F. Dijkstra, G. Fisher, eds., Inside and Out. Interactions between Rome and the Peoples on the Arabian and Egyptian Frontiers in Late Antiquity, 2014; G. Fisher, ed., Arabs and Empires before the Rise of Islam, 2015). In the Introduction, Ward situates his investigation within postcolonial theory. Chapter One discusses the terminology used for nomads in the Near East, especially "Saracen," and the way in which the literary sources often characterize them as uncivilized, "pagan," even violent, despite the fact that the situation must have been more complex. Chapter Two charts the rise of Christianity in the Sinai. The first monks arrived in the course of the fourth century, soon followed by pilgrims (most famously Egeria) in search of biblical places. In the fifth and sixth centuries, Christianity expanded on the peninsula, culminating in the fortified monastery that Justinian built around the Burning Bush, known today as St Catherine's. Chapter Three demonstrates how Christians appropriated the landscape of the Sinai by associating sites with biblical events and locations. There was not always agreement, however, on the exact location of sites, as is evinced by Egeria and the Piacenza pilgrim, who situate Elim between Clysma and Mount Sinai, whereas Ammonius and Cosmas locate it on the coast at Rhaithou. In Chapter Four Ward turns to the martyrdom accounts, mainly Pseudo-Nilus's Narrations and Ammonius's Report, which describe nomadic attacks on monks, sometimes in graphic detail. Chapter Five argues that these accounts, even if highly rhetorical, had the effect that the "Saracens" were seen as a threat to security and caused a direct response from the imperial authorities. This is witnessed, according to Ward, in a growing number of military installations, especially in the sixth century, and the construction of Justinian's monastery itself. Taking a wider perspective, Chapter Six shows how the image of the "Saracen" was transferred to Muslims after the Islamic conquest and thus how pre-Islamic conceptions shaped later Christian views of the Muslim "other." This is a clear and pleasantly written book that is full of interesting and original ideas. It should be noted, however, that there is not a whole lot that is new in the interpretation of the texts compared with Caner's book. For instance, for an in-depth discussion of the Sinai martyr inscription found at St Catherine's [End Page 492] (100–102), one should rather turn to Caner (51–52, 60–63). Strikingly absent is any mention of the Syriac History of the Great Deeds of Bishop Paul of Qenṭos and Priest John of Edessa, which describes the holy men's capture by Arabs on their way to Mount Sinai (ed. and trans. by H. Arneson, E. Fiano, C. Luckritz Marquis, K. Smith, 2010). Caner (48n207) mentions this text but could not yet make use of the edition. Introductions of general topics, such as that of monasticism (45), are not always fully satisfactory. Most importantly, even though Ward in other cases makes some illuminating comparisons across space and time, the comparison between the situation in the Sinai and that after 9/11 is off the mark, as too many different factors are at stake in each case...

Russian Refugees and Posthumous Evaluation of Lenin in Slovenian Politics

Throughout the Slovenian political arena, Lenin was seen as an extraordinary world-historical figure. This was emphasised most frequently on the occasion of his death (21 January 1924), which prompted the most comprehensive Slovenian statements about the leader of the Russian Bolshevik revolution. Lenin’s revolutionary work was analysed by all three Slovenian political camps: Catholic, Liberal, and Marxist. The revolutionary part of the Marxist camp welcomed it, while its non-revolutionary part perceived Lenin as an embodiment of schism and hatred, a man of great deeds and terrifying destruction, standing outside all accepted moral laws. The opinion of the Liberals was similar: for them, Lenin represented a world born from revolution, fatally threatening the existing balance of social and political power. The Catholic camp, on the other hand, harboured for him a peculiar admiration. To be sure, he was seen as a dictator, a demonic genius ethically inclining towards a social justice which was based on the denial of individualism and on a ruthless, atheist, ‘Genghis Khan-like’, bloody Marxist revolution. However, he was also perceived as a man of action and energy, unmatched by either Peter the Great or Napoleon, and counted among the greatest Slavic personages. This was taking place at a time when the Slovenian political Catholicism still credited communism with an ability to provide certain social and economic solutions for other social movements as well.
 The Slovenian politics of the mid-1920s emphasised both the extraordinary nature of the Lenin phenomenon and his radical revolutionary acts, which sprang from a monumental political ability and relentless pursuit of the envisioned goal. This emphasis was accompanied by an understanding of the historical forces underlying the past events. The developments in Russia were accepted as facts, and this was what the Russian refugees had to come to terms with as they looked for a new home on the western edge of the Slavic world.

Portret Józefa Sułkowskiego na ścianie pokoju Witkacego w Zakopanem

In two photographs taken in Witkacy’s room in Zakopane about 1913 one can recognize a portrait of Józef Sułkowski pinned to the wall. It is a copy of the lithography made by Kazimierz Młodzianowski, Witkacy’s friend, to the dramatic play by Stefan Żeromski entitled Sułkowski. Stanisław Witkiewicz read that book shortly after publication in May 1910, and wrote about it to his son with great respect. Młodzianowski made three lithographies to Żeromski’s drama, different for each edition. For the first one, which Witkiewicz read – a colorful Portrait of Józef Sułkowski according to effigies of that time, in a lithographic manner. For the second one, also as a colorful lithography – the image of Isis sitting on a throne, however without little Horus on her lap. In the third one, from 1914, Sułkowski’s portrait appeared, based on the picture by Antoni Brodowski. Młodzianowski’s drawing here remains faithful to the original, even recreating the craquelures on the painting’s surface – yet it is not a photomechanical copy, but an authorial interpretation. Sułkowski’s character, or rather the legend around it, perfectly fits the profile of Witkacy’s literary characters – an individual attempting to do great deeds, risking his life, self-fulfilling and burning out like a meteor at the moments of intense experiences. In the drama by Żeromski, especially in the dialogues of the final act, Witkacy was able to find many topics which would determine the scope of his thoughts, as well as their conflicts: the pessimistic vision of culture and its development, in which the sources of metaphysical feelings, mysteries of nature, religion and art, would yield to the faith in science. In the face of lack of mystery and in the feeling of insatiability, the only thing that shall remain is the desire for action and the gesture of self-destruction, which shall be experienced by tragic, sinister and grotesque characters created by Witkacy.

HOMER: THE FIRST TRAGEDIAN

It is a commonplace to link Homer with tragedy. Plato calls Homer the first tragedian, Aristotle praises the dramatic concentration of his plots, and pseudo-Plutarch claims that in Homer we find ‘all elements of tragedy: great and unexpected deeds, epiphanies of gods, and speeches full of thought and representing all kind of characters’. Likewise, modern critics write studies onNature and Culture in the Iliad. The Tragedy of Hector, ‘Tragic Form and Feeling in theIliad’, ‘Homeric Epic and the Tragic Moment’, andHomer and the Dual Mode of the Tragic.

Niżyńska, Joanna The Kingdom of Insignificance: Miron Białoszewski and the Quotidian, the Queer, and the Traumatic (review)

SEER, 94, 3, july 2016 520 between writers; and about values possibly shared by Ukrainian authors (for example, that most aliens in Ukrainian fiction are benign, or that Ukrainian novels foretold solar energy technology). Walter Smyrniw’s book, although invaluable for specialists, over-indulges in a kind of wishful thinking better suited to science fiction than literary criticism. University of Exeter Muireann Maguire Niżyńska, Joanna. The Kingdom of Insignificance: Miron Białoszewski and the Quotidian, the Queer, and the Traumatic. Northwestern University Press, Evanston, IL, 2013. xiii + 259 pp. Notes. Bibliography. Index. $45.00. Joanna Niżyńska’s study of the work of Miron Białoszewski (1922–83), one of the most enigmatic authors of the Polish canon, makes two important interventions into the area of Polish literary studies. First of all, as a monograph solely about Białoszewski, it substantially augments the available scholarship on his work, particularly in English — though it is also sorely needed in Polish. Secondly, it provides an incredibly insightful queer analysis of a significant Polish author and his oeuvre, adding to the burgeoning area of queer studies in Polonistics. Niżyńska believes that, after more translation, Białoszewski’s work will be an important addition to the ‘transatlantic canon of Polish literature’ (p. 7), borrowing a term from Bożena Shallcross. I believe Niżyńska’s book is itself a timely contribution to the transatlantic canon of Polish literary studies. Chapters one and two present thorough close readings of Białoszewski’s Memoir of the Warsaw Uprising (1970) and his ‘small narrations’, which he composed from 1970 until his death in 1983. Niżyńska investigates the paradoxical character of these works, illustrating the ways the traumatic and exceptional become marked as common and everyday. She notes the Memoir’s creation of the ‘traumatic quotidian’, when the most mundane tasks turn into life and death situations, and the extraordinary becomes the unremarkable. For Niżyńska, in the uprising as presented by Białoszewski ‘there are no great deeds, but routine activities acquire the status of lifechanging events’ (p. 66). In making visible what is usually hidden, and in making the traumatic mundane, Białoszewski undermines the official historiography of the uprising; the Memoir is a subversive text, refuting the classically Romantic ethos of the ‘beautiful death’, and refusing to venerate the uprising as many other literary treatments have done. It becomes an important ‘counternarrative’ (p. 10) to the martyrological model of the event. In her analysis of Białoszewski’s life writings, such as the ‘small narrations’, Niżyńska sees a continuing influence of the traumatic quotidian from the REVIEWS 521 Memoir. The paradox of these works is revealed in the everyday as being ‘“only” the everyday and yet it is always already “something more”’ (p. 20). The banal in the life writings is constantly punctuated by traumatic traces. Rather than reading the uprising as ‘a self-contained event’ in Białoszewski’s biography, as many critics have, Niżyńska insists that it is ‘a force that continually shaped his writing’ (p. 103). This continuation of the traumatic in the small narrations is best exemplified in the flashbacks that interrupt Białoszewski’s accounts. The ‘quotidian encounters’ of Warsaw post-uprising are transformed into ‘traumatic encounters’ that evoke the trauma of the past (p. 111). InchapterthreeandtheEpilogueNiżyńskamovesherfocustoaqueerreading ofBiałoszewski’slifeandwritings,asking‘howourknowledgeofBiałoszewski’s homosexuality can most productively enter into our interpretation of his work’ (p. 176). She coins the phrase the ‘Lubiewo effect’, referring to the 2005 novel by Michał Witkowski, noting his extensive quotation from one of Białoszewski’s stories. Thanks to the popularity of this unapologetically queer novel we are no longer able to read Białoszewski naively, ‘that is, as if this intervention had not happened and as if the subject of homosexuality were not on the table in Polish cultural criticism’ (p. 135). For Niżyńska the fact of Białoszewski’s sexuality is eminently important to any accurate analysis of the Memoir. Its ‘unapologetic indifference to masculine valor’ (p. 180) is a threat to traditional, normative Polish identity, as has been illustrated in several reviews of his...

Montaigne and the lessons of ancient history

ABSTRACTThe article examines the lessons which Montaigne sought from ancient history. In the late sixteenth century Tacitus, with his bleak lessons devoid of glory – perceived as particularly useful in the given circumstances – assumed the foremost position amongst the ancient historians. Montaigne, in contrast to the majority of his contemporaries, had different preferences. Montaigne’s reception of Tacitus is analysed; suggestion that he should be regarded a Tacitist is rejected. Rather, it is argued, in Montaigne we have the last great Renaissance thinker who is a true appreciator of the ‘classical’ antiquity (or the period before Actium): the Essais are pervaded with omnipresent Plutarch. A close analysis of the influence of Plutarch and his heroes follows. Despite his apparent personal preference for the vita contemplativa, Montaigne – just like Plutarch himself – holds in highest respect precisely the great political and military deeds. Even if one is incapable for such heroic action, or is prevented by the adverse times, the ancients – particularly Plutarch’s heroes – still provide a personal lesson. The Essais reaffirm the heroic and the individual, which characterizes ‘classical’ ancient history: in the period of Tacitean hegemony, Montaigne demonstrates how the great ancient examples can still serve as models for personal formation.

The Idea of ‘Blasphemy’ in the Pāli Canon and Modern Myanmar

There are many terms in the Pāli Canon that refer to “disrespect” committed against venerated objects or people. Some of these ideas come close to the idea of “blasphemy” in other religious traditions. In traditional forms of Buddhism, the stress is on protective and auspicious acts. Images, texts and chanting are partly concerned with averting danger. Primarily it is the Buddha (and images of him), because of his great meritorious and ethical deeds, who accomplishes this. In this context blasphemy against sacred objects is a perfectly coherent idea in Buddhism. In Myanmar, monks from the Ma Ba Tha movement have expressed outrage at what they perceived to be the manipulation of images of the Buddha. These will be compared to ideas in the Pāli Canon to suggest how the idea of blasphemy is a constant feature in the history of Buddhism.

The Historian as Hero: Herodotus and the 300 at Thermopylae

The Historian as Hero: Herodotus and the 300 at Thermopylae* John Marincola I among the many brilliant narratives to be found in herodotus’s Histories, that of the battle of Thermopylae is surely one of the most famous and most moving. Although scholars have hardly ever thought of Herodotus as a great military historian, he has managed nonetheless to infuse many of his battle narratives with a profound sense of excitement and pathos simultaneously. The narrative of Thermopylae follows a pattern familiar from Herodotus’s other battle narratives and is, like so much in the first historian, modelled on Homer: the use of prophecy to give a sense of foreboding to the events; the movement between individuals and groups, with the narrator now taking the close-up view, now the panoramic; the concentration on individuals, and in particular on worthy or noteworthy actions during the heat of battle; and, finally, an interest in unusual or inexplicable events that occurred before, during, and after the battle. I say “modelled on Homer,” but it is more accurate to say that Herodotus has retained some elements of Homeric battle narrative while doing other things in a very different way.1 [End Page 219] One of his most marked differences from Homer, as scholars have long noted, is his use of the first-person pronoun throughout,2 and it is from one of these that I begin. The remark I shall focus on is, so far as I can tell, unique, and it occurs in the course of Herodotus’s narrative of the battle of Thermopylae, indeed at the point that may be thought to be the climax. Narrating the Spartans’ last stand on the final day of the battle, when they move out into the more open space, after they realize that they are surrounded, but yet still wish to display great deeds of prowess, Herodotus says that they were killing great numbers now at close quarters, since their spears were broken and they were using their swords, and he continues (7.224.1–2): καὶ Λεωνίδης τε ἐν τούτῳ τῷ πόνῳ πίπτει ἀνὴρ γενόμενος ἄριστος, καὶ ἕτεροι μετ᾽ αὐτοῦ ὀνομαστοὶ Σπαρτιητέων, τῶν ἐγὼ ὡς ἀνδρῶν ἀξίων γενομένων ἐπυθόμην τὰ οὐνόματα, ἐπυθόμην δὲ καὶ ἁπάντων τῶν τριηκοσίων. καὶ δὴ Περσέων πίπτουσι ἐνθαῦτα ἄλλοι τε πολλοὶ καὶ ὀνομαστοί, ἐν δὲ δὴ καὶ Δαρείου δύο παῖδες Ἀβροκόμης τε καὶ Ὑπεράνθης, ἐκ τῆς Ἀρτάνεω θυγατρὸς Φραταγούνης γεγονότες Δαρείῳ. And in this struggle Leonidas falls, having proven himself a brave man, and with him other renowned Spartiates, whose names I have learned as those of men who deserve to be remembered, and I have learned in fact the names of all the three hundred. And of the Persians too there fall here many others, renowned men, among whom were two children of Darius, Habrocomes and Hyperanthes, borne to Darius by Phratagune, the daughter of Artanes. Scholars have noted the apparent oddity of Herodotus remarking that he learned the names of the 3003 but then failing to give those names, and indeed some have faulted him for not doing so.4 Yet it is hard to see how such a list would have worked, for we have no parallel in Herodotus for a long string of personal names (which would presumably have included patronymics) without comment. When we think of “catalogues” in Herodotus, we think possibly of his account of the revenues of Darius where the various nations are listed, but something is also said about their contributions; or, perhaps more famously, the catalogue of Persian forces to be found in Book 7 as Xerxes [End Page 220] is on the march, which likewise lists a great number of peoples, but also includes some description of the peoples themselves, especially the armament they carry.5 It is difficult to imagine that Herodotus would simply give a list of three hundred names with nothing else but the names. The point of the remark, therefore, seems not to be that he was intending to record the names for his audience. Nor is this exactly the kind of remark, of which we have many examples in Herodotus, where the narrator employs an intentional silence and says that he knows something but will not tell, as he does, for example, when speaking of the Delphian who falsely cut Croesus’s name from a dedication in order to please the Spartans;6 or when he says that he will “deliberately forget” the name of the Samian who stole the wealth of Sataspes’ eunuch.7 In cases such as this, the whole point...

Great deeds or great risks? Scientists’ social representations of nanotechnology

Nanotechnologies are becoming a larger presence in everyday life and are viewed by governments and economic actors as a key area for development. The theory of social representations suggests that specialist views eventually disseminate to shape representations among the public. Yet nanotechnologies remain relatively little known to the general public. The media emphasize potential benefits, while potential risks get less attention. The literature has not yet addressed whether representations by a well-informed population (scientists) are indeed structured in terms of the risk–benefit polarity that dominates research framing to date. We attempted a systematic assessment of how background knowledge about nanotechnology may influence experts’ perception. Study 1 delivered the first demonstration derived from a qualitative analysis confirming the existence of a polarized representation of nanotechnologies, contrasting opportunity (medical, economic, and technological) and risk. Interestingly, risk was distinguished at two levels: that associated with nanomaterial characteristics (toxicity, reactivity) and at the larger scale of impact (health, environment, legislation). Does this polarity indicate a ‘yes, but’ logic (nanotechnology carries opportunity but also risk), or two clusters of specialists (sensitive, respectively, to opportunity or to risk)? Study 2 surveyed a larger sample of experts who self-described their scientific background and role viz. nanotechnology. Role had no influence. Specialists consensually viewed that nanotechnology represents opportunity, but depending on scientific background they did not agree to the same extent that nanotechnology also constitutes a risk. Participants with a physics and chemistry background tended to represent nanotechnologies predominantly in terms of opportunities and not in terms of inherent risks or impacts. In contrast, toxicologists, life and social scientists appeared to explicitly incorporate both benefits and risks in their representation of this new technology. Environmental scientists were a more diverse group, divided between the two patterns of representation.

OVID,EPISTULAE EX PONTO4.8, GERMANICUS, AND THEFASTI

InEpistulae ex Ponto4.8, one of the last poems written from exile (dated to 15 or 16c.e.), Ovid expresses his increasing hopes for Germanicus' assistance in effecting his recall to Rome. Though ostensibly addressed to his stepdaughter's father-in-law, P. Suillius Rufus, the poem contains a petition to Germanicus (27–88), as a poet to a poet, which promises future commemoration in Ovid's poetry if he is removed from Tomis:clausaque si misero patria est, ut ponar in ullo,qui minus Ausonia distet ab Vrbe loco,unde tuas possim laudes celebrare recentesmagnaque quam minima facta referre mora. (85–8)and if my country is closed against me in my misery, may I be placed in any place less distant from the Ausonian city, whence I might celebrate your praises while they are recent and relate your great deeds with the least delay.

The Genealogy of Ressentiment and the Achilles’ Heel of Humanitarianism: Thinking with Dostoevsky, Scheler, and Manent on “Love of Mankind”

Let strife and rancour perish lives of gods and men, with anger that envenoms even wise and is far sweeter than slow-dripping honey, clouding hearts of men like smoke; (18, 105-10) HOMER'S ACHILLES, THE ILIAD From trunk of that tree of vengefulness and hatred, Jewish hatred-- profoundest and sublimest kind of hatred, capable of creating ideals and reversing values, like of which has never existed on earth before-- there grew something equally incomparable, a new love, profoundest and sublimest kind of love--and what other trunk could it have grown? NIETZSCHE, GENEALOGY OF MORALS EARLY IN Dostoevsky's The Brothers Karamazov a society lady whose inclinations were in many respects genuinely good comes to visit sapient Father Zossima. (1) Over course of their conversation woman proclaims that she love[s] so much that--would you believe it?--I sometimes dream of giving up all, all I have, of leaving Lise and going to become a sister of mercy. I close my eyes, I think and dream, and in such moments I feel an invincible strength in myself. No wounds ... could frighten me. I would bind them and cleanse them with my own hands. I would nurse suffering. (2) As if in part to shake society lady her high self-regard, Father Zossima tells her he heard same thing, a long time ago to be sure, a doctor. (3) The doctor confided in Zossima that, though he love[s] ... more I in general less I people in particular, that is, individually, as separate people. [4] The illustrative anecdote of doctor's dilemma is very much apropos sentimental society lady, as her daughter Lise's condition as a paralytic requires much of her attention and, one can assume, most of her love. Because Lise, particular person in society lady's direct proximity, is in one sense an ideal object of love--she is in need, and she is at hand--we must ask why her mother's impulse leads her instead to dream of mankind. In Genealogy of Morals Nietzsche contends that the slave revolt in morality begins when ressentiment itself becomes creative and gives birth to values: ressentiment of natures that are denied true reaction, that of deeds, and compensate themselves with an revenge. (5) We can rightly wonder to what extent society lady's love of mankind is an imaginary revenge upon demands that her daughter places upon her, a compensation for her incapacity to undertake great deeds. Zossima's judicious rejoinder resounds loudly in a world wherein claims of citizenship foster an idealism that absolves each citizen of world of any particular loves. Rallying cries relegate crippled Lise to backstage of that theater of global significance, replace her with lepers whom we can kiss in dreams doused in of mankind. Is our suspicion that ressentiment is exclusive origin of sentimental society lady's love of mankind and citizen's humanitarian anything more than a spoiled fruit of inheritance Machiavelli, Marx, Nietzsche, and Freud--those masters of suspicion--have left us? In his prescient early work Ressentiment, Max Scheler contends that Nietzsche wrongly equated Christian idea of with a completely different idea which has quite another historical and psychological origin: idea and movement of modern universal of man, 'humanitarianism,' 'love of man kind,' or more plastically, 'love toward every member of human race.' (6) Scheler makes a crucial distinction: whereas Christian demands a definite humanitarian demands contingent sacrifice, which is ultimately aimed at enhancing degree of pleasure experienced in a given society. In Ressentiment, Scheler suggests that humanitarian movement is fundamentally a ressentiment phenomenon, a fact that is evident from very fact that this socio-historical emotion is by no means based on a spontaneous and original affirmation of positive values, but on a protest, a counter-impulse (hatred, envy, revenge). …

Christian Euhemerism in the Latin Middle Ages

In Late Antiquity, Christian apologists adopted the views of the rationalist Greek (or Sicilian) philosopher Euhemerus of Messene (fl. ca 300BCE) in order to refute the theological claims and cultic practices of pagan, principally Roman, religion. The traveller Euhemerus had written an account, now lost, of his journey to a mythical island which he called Panchaia, the Hiera Anagraphe (Sacred Record), where he claimed to have seen a golden column in the tomb of Zeus Triphylian (of the three tribes) on which was inscribed in his own words the history of his achievements. In the philosophical trend of Greek rationalism, Euhemerus sought to explain the mundane origins of the Hellenistic divinities. The ancient gods were once merely ancient royalty whose mortality had been forgotten by the ages. The record of the mortal deeds of Zeus Triphylian were used by Euhemerus to support this argument. He attributed their god-like powers remembered in the tragic poets to simple human superiority and their divine intelligence to their mere primacy: they were the first to accomplish great inventions and deeds and were remembered for it. Although several Greek philosophers held to such notions, Euhemerus’ name was applied by historians to the general rationalist idea: Euhemerism. [The investigation of later Euhemerism suffers from the movement’s close association with Greek rationalism in general. We can define Euhemerism in two ways: first in the strictest sense as a movement which reflected the known views of Euhemerus' Hiera Anagraphe regarding Panchaia and the historicity of the family of Saturn and Uranus. The principle sources of these views are the handed-down accounts of Lactantius and Diodorus; or second, in the widest sense, as a rationalist movement which sought to explain the mundane origins of all the Hellenistic gods and heroes as mortals. But could not the wide sense of Euhemerism be said of many Greek rationalist interpretations of Hellenistic divinities? In some cases, simply “rationalist” might be a better qualifier for such ideas. Although the wide and strict sense above might not be relevant when charting the history of ideas, they claim some consideration when discussing the influence of Euhemerus and Euhemerism in later authors. To give an example, although Fulgentius in his Mythologies espouses views on the mortal history of the Greek mythical heroes Perseus and Ganymede (they were ancient generals) which he undoutably received from reading Greek rationalist interpretations, these views are not “Euhemerist” in the strict sense since what we know of the Hiera Anagraphe is silent on the matter. In a wider sense, however, they are in the current of Greek rationalist thought which we might call “Euhemerism”. It could be said then that Fulgentius’ views on Perseus and Ganymede reflect a kind of broad “Euhemerism” which paradoxically does not rely on the known writings of Euhemerus. In the following discussions I will be careful to denote when appropriate which sense, wide or strict, I am using.] References to the Hiera Anagraphe appear among Greek authors especially Diodorus of Sicily whose paraphrases of Euhemerus make up much of books 5 and 6 of the Library. In the 2nd century BCE, the Hiera Anagraphe was adapted into Latin by Quintus Ennius whose work, now lost as well, was referenced and cited by Lactantius and Sextus Empiricus. Euhemerist formulations also found their way into Cicero’s De Natura Deorum and Macrobius’ commentary on the Somnium Scipionis. Eusebius of Caesarea copied Diodorus’ adaptation of Euhemerus in the second book of the Praeparatio Evangelica, a manual for pagan converts to Christianity. The Euhemerism of the early Christians, Tertullian, Minucius Felix, Commodian, Arnobius, and Augustine were received mostly third-hand. Only Arnobius' pupil, Lactantius had read Ennius’ Latin adaptation when he summons Euhemerus for his arguments against Roman paganism in the Divine Institutions. [J.W. Schippers, De Ontwikkeling der Euhemeristische Godencritiek in de Christelijke Latiijnse Literatuur (diss., Utrecht; Groningen, 1952), pp. xxx].

No Address, No Name

No Address, No Name Iwan Simatupang (bio) Translated by John H. McGlynn (bio) Dedicated to Sri, Maiden of the Beggars For there are many great deeds done in the small struggles of life. There is a determined though unseen bravery, which defends itself foot to foot in the darkness against the fatal invasions of necessity and of baseness. Noble and mysterious triumphs which no eye sees, which no renown rewards, which no flourish of triumph salutes. Life’s misfortunes, isolation, abandonment, poverty, are battlefields which have their heroes; obscure heroes, sometimes greater than the illustrious heroes. Victor Hugo, Les Misérables Cast of Characters Gramps, man of about sixty Pocky, man of about thirty-five Gimp, man of about thirty Ani, woman of about twenty-five Ina, woman of about twenty Ati, woman of about seventeen Scene One The play is set in a large city beneath a bridge, the home of people considered “of no consequence”: vagrants, poor and jobless people, pedicab drivers, and prostitutes. It is late evening. Torn mats, old boards, broken furniture, empty butter and milk tins litter the site. Small kerosene lamps hang from makeshift huts. Two small cooking fires glow. Steam rises from the butter tins, used as cooking pots, that are perched on top of the flames. Beside one fire a man, Gimp, rests on his haunches; an older man, Gramps, squats beside the other fire. Two young women, Ani and Ina, dressed in faded lengths of batik cloth and colored brassieres, are busy putting on makeup. Each woman holds a cracked mirror in her hand. Trailer-trucks driving across the bridge make a thunderous noise. There is also a roll of thunder. [End Page 25] Click for larger view View full resolution Slum dwellers, Jakarta, Java, 2007. Jonas Bendiksen/Magnum [End Page 26] gramps Sounds like it’s gonna rain hard. gimp [Laughing.] That’s a truck, Gramps! gramps What? gimp A truck! That’s a trailer-truck going by. gramps [Shaking his head while stirring the contents of the butter tin on top of his fire.] Another one! This bridge is going to fall down one of these days. I thought those things were banned. ani So? gramps So it’s against the law. [Ani laughs loudly.] Well, what’s the law for then? ani To be broken. gramps And if it’s broken? ani That’s the State’s business. Gramps stirs his food and shakes his head again. A roll of thunder. gimp Now that was thunder. ani [Suddenly concerned.] What?! gimp [Laughing.] Thunder, sweets. Thunder! You know, varrrooom!—which usually means it’s going to rain. Ani frowns, then walks to the edge of the shelter offered by the bridge and peers upward at the sky. She raises her arm and shakes her fist at the sky. Another roll of thunderv ani [Angrily.] Oh, shit! Ina! ina What? ani You can stop getting ready. ina Never know, it might not rain. [Another roll of thunder.] ani [Irritated.] What do you mean “might not rain”? What are you, a rain doctor? Clean the shit from your ears. The only thing that’s not sure is how we’re going to get something to eat tonight if it does rain. gimp [Stirring his food.] If it’s your stomach you’re looking to fill, this is almost done. ani [Putting her hands on her hips, turns to Gimp.] Thanks, but no thanks! I’ve had my fill of that squash you pick out of the [End Page 27] garbage heap over by the market. Half-rotten squash mixed with half-rotten leeks, moldy cassava and corn. Bleck! I’m sick of it! No, not tonight. Tonight I want something good to eat: hot rice, spiced beef, an egg swimming in chili sauce, and a tall glass of sweet tea. And to finish it off, a large and golden-ripe … As Ani speaks of her favorite foods, the others listen wistfully, repeatedly swallowing their saliva. When there is another roll of thunder, everyone looks sadly at Ani. [Hysterically.] Oh no! It can’t rain tonight. It just can’t! ina [Approaching Ani.] Take it easy. Rain or not, we’re...

Idea pokornego uniżenia w antycznej myśli greckiej

Even though the ancient Greeks did not recognize humility as a virtue, in the later Christian sense, their literature (Solon, Hesiod, Herodotus, Euripides) and philosophy (Plato, Aristotle, Theophrastus, stoics, Plutarch, Plotinus) contains some elements of the idea of the humble lowliness. Pride – considered as the greatest vice – was not contrasted with humility, but with the attitude of just pride arising from a based on the principle of moderation sense of finding oneself suffi­cient and confident in one’s own capabilities. This virtue – which can be defined as a sense of self-worth – was reserved for those capable of ethical courage, the morally strong. The attitude that Christianity considered as the virtue of humility was associated in antiquity with modesty, which was the equivalent of a just pride, referring to the weak people, unfit to accomplish great deeds, or with shyness, fear or cowardice.

The Walking Dead in Chaucer's Knight's Tale

The Walking Dead in Chaucer's <i>Knight's Tale</i>

Marriage or Mirage? The Phantom Wedding of Cleopatra and Antony

The Queen and the Triumvir took their place upon a dais. The Queen wore a long gown of gold tissue that made her figure look even more slim and supple. A stomacher of magnificent gems encased her breasts. Upon her head was the double diadem of Upper and Lower Egypt, encircled by the sacred uraeus . . . . The Queen rose, took up a fan and tenderly fanned her Consort. Then, with the ancient golden spatula which through the centuries was used to anoint the Kings of Egypt, she anointed Mark Antony on the head and the hands and mouth—the head that thinks of great deeds, the hands that accomplish them and the mouth that utters wise words. After this, the Egyptian Ministers and the High Priest advanced, and prostrating themselves before their Queen and her King-Consort, they kissed the ground and their feet. The High Priest placed a crown upon the brows of the Sovereigns, and the scribes drew up the papyrus enscribed with the hieroglyphics that would fix for ever the names of the wedded pair and declare the twins Alexander Helios and Cleopatra Selene legitimate as a result of the marriage.1

Usos e significados do conhecimento histórico em estudos organizacionais: uma (re)leitura do taylorismo sob a perspectiva do poder disciplinar

O objetivo deste artigo é problematizar - por meio da ampliação dos usos e significados do conhecimento histórico proposta pela perspectiva da nova história e pela genealogia de Michel Foucault - abordagens de estudos organizacionais mais convencionais que assumem como objeto de pesquisa os grandes feitos de grandes homens da história da Administração. Nesse sentido, tem-se: (1) como foco principal de análise uma releitura da versão legitimada do taylorismo como acontecimento histórico diretamente responsável por um conjunto de preceitos e técnicas de racionalização do trabalho; e (2) como argumento central a premissa de que as "subversões" epistemológicas da história renovada e da genealogia possibilitam-nos ler esse acontecimento com outras lentes e identificar a obra de F. W. Taylor como inserida em um conjunto maior de práticas sociais disciplinadoras. Para alcançar esse propósito, o texto está organizado em três partes. Na primeira parte, expõe-se o significado de história para Michel Foucault, em seguida, analisa-se o movimento da história nova e suas convergências com a proposta de conhecimento histórico da genealogia. Por fim, na terceira parte, o taylorismo é repensado e analisado à luz da sociedade disciplinar.

The Heroic Age of Gothic and the Metaphors of Modernism

This article, which was first presented as a lecture, sets out some broad ideas about the domain of the aesthetic in medieval art and architecture. At its heart is a critique of common assumptions about mimesis, hermeneutics, and univalent categories. Beginning with the issue of levels of style, it argues that recent debates have tended to sever discussion of “low” or everyday forms from balanced consideration of “high” or lofty forms that are more usefully understood in relation to one another. The notion of the heroic—great deeds and accomplishments—is taken as a starting point for the proposal that formalist discussions of medieval art overlook or actually obscure deeper continuities between the Christian Middle Ages and wonders in the ancient and Islamic worlds. Ideas of lofty farsightedness and the difficulty of invention itself are seen as part of a continuum with the poetics and rhetoric of Antiquity. Doubt is cast on the validity of modernist metaphors for style and also on epistemologically modern categories of marginality that overlook the necessary connection between high and low style and displace pleasure and the aesthetic. Stress is placed instead on the linked and dialogic character of the senses and the media in medieval art. Finally, the aesthetics of wonder and the affective techniques of artists are discussed with a view to opening a new debate about the transformative role of art and architecture.

The Passionate Statesman: Eros and Politics in Plutarch's Lives by Jeffrey Beneker. Oxford: Oxford University Press. 2012. Pp x, 258.

440 PHOENIX study of later audiences has advanced by leaps and bounds in recent decades. Roselli does not hide the fragmentary and contradictory state of the evidence for ancient audiences, and he takes important steps towards reconciling and explaining much of it. Although he discusses some modern theoretical frameworks for understanding theater audiences, particularly in his introduction and first chapter, he does not allow unifying theories to guide the inclusion or exclusion of evidence. The result is a rich and winding path through a huge amount of material. Kathryn Bosher† The Passionate Statesman: Eros and Politics in Plutarch's LIVES. By Jeffrey Beneker. Oxford: Oxford University Press. 2012. Pp x, 258. Plutarch has been getting some well-deserved attention recently, with monographs appearing on less familiar works (e.g., L. Van Hoof, Plutarch’s Practical Ethics [Oxford 2010]), new commentaries on neglected Lives (e.g., F. Titchener, Plutarch’s Life of Nicias [Leuven 2013]), and with this work a new interpretative approach to some familiar material. Beneker’s aim is to examine “how eros can act as a lens both for his [Plutarch’s] interpretation of historical sources and for his composition of political biographies” (3). After a brief introduction, the first chapter sets the stage by examining Plutarch’s conception of eros, its relationship to philia, and the place of both within the bonds of marriage. Beneker carefully charts the complex philosophical roots of Plutarch’s understanding of moral virtue, focusing particularly on two of his treatises: the anti-Stoic tract On Moral Virtue and the Dialogue on Love. Beneker argues essentially for an Aristotelian basis with an overarching Platonism and there emerge two points which will be important for his interpretation of the role of eros in the Lives. First, Plutarch’s sophrosyne is, as it is for Aristotle, “a moderate emotional response to pleasures of the body” (16) and is distinguished from enkrateia by the fact that the enkratic man succeeds in his struggle against desires but it is always a struggle (this point emerges more fully in Chapter Five). Secondly, eros in a moderated form is an essential component of the philia of a marriage relationship. Here Beneker uses the Brutus/Porcia and Pericles/Aspasia relationships to show how Plutarch’s “ethics underlie the representation of these characters and their relationships” (54) and are important indicators of the psychological dispositions of the biographical subjects. Thus, such healthy relationships symbolise the subject’s capacity for rational response in the face of passions in whatever arena they appear, particularly in political/military matters. Chapter Two elaborates on how Plutarch’s understanding of moral virtue shapes his approach to history in the Lives and so helps him shape his source material to create a more realistic psychological portrait in which moral causes predominate over others. The Pelopidas/Marcellus pair is drawn on as an example: both were experienced generals who died rashly in battle. Plutarch’s sources do not, for him, adequately explain why this happened, but Plutarch, reinterpreting the material through an ethical lens, is able to argue that both men were not adequately trained and so their passion overwhelmed their reason. In the light of this broader discussion in the opening two chapters, Beneker then turns to examining the role of eros in three pairs of lives: Alexander/Caesar (Chapter Three), BOOK REVIEWS/COMPTES RENDUS 441 Demetrius/Antony (Chapter Four), and Agesilaus/Pompey (Chapter Five). It is not coincidental that it is in the opening to the first pair that we find Plutarch’s well-known comments that he is writing lives, not histories, and that character is not always best observed in great deeds. No other characters in the corpus surpassed Alexander and Caesar in the greatness of their accomplishments but it is how they respond psychologically to various facets of desire which Beneker argues is key to understanding their characters. Alexander’s success is shown to be predicated upon his ability to control his bodily appetites and desires. Like Cyrus in Xenophon’s Cyropaedia he shows the utmost respect for captured noblewomen even in the face of overwhelming beauty and virtue. Further, his conduct in his erotic relationships mirrors the type approved of in the...