Monthly Archives: May 2015
Aristophanes’ play The Clouds is fascinating in a number of ways, not least because it contains one of the earliest literary mentions of Socrates. Socrates, or at least the complex of ideas that Socrates came to represent, would become one of the most important figures in the Western tradition and the well-spring of one the two most important strands of Western philosophy (the other of which would begin with Aristotle). At the time of The Clouds, however, Socrates was just starting to become a salient figure–a well known local character, but not yet the famous philosopher who would be immortalized by Plato and others.
Aristophanes picked Socrates to be his caricature of a “modern” teacher at least partially because Socrates’ famously homely appearance would lend itself to a hilarious and recognizable mask. When the Socrates character first came on stage in the original performance the actual Socrates stood up so the crowd could admire the resemblance. Shortly before this period Socrates seems to have spent considerable time talking to sophists and other pre-socratic philosophers, prior to fully developing his own philosophy, so this portrayal as a Sophist is not completely unwarranted. On the other hand, the main criticism that Aristophanes levels against the sophistic school, that they are willing to argue both sides of an issue and are more concerned with the argument itself than the truth, is decidedly not applicable to Socrates’ mature philosophical methods, as portrayed by Plato. Plato’s Socrates is only interested in understanding universal truths, and seeks them not through argument but by admitting his own ignorance and asking questions. We must keep in mind, though, that The Clouds was written decades before Plato’s dialogues.
Plato’s Socrates rejects Aristophanes’ caricature in The Apology,
I will begin at the beginning, and ask what is the accusation which has given rise to the slander of me, and in fact has encouraged Meletus to proof this charge against me. Well, what do the slanderers say? They shall be my prosecutors, and I will sum up their words in an affidavit: ‘Socrates is an evil-doer, and a curious person, who searches into things under the earth and in heaven, and he makes the worse appear the better cause; and he teaches the aforesaid doctrines to others.’ Such is the nature of the accusation: it is just what you have yourselves seen in the comedy of Aristophanes, who has introduced a man whom he calls Socrates, going about and saying that he walks in air, and talking a deal of nonsense concerning matters of which I do not pretend to know either much or little—not that I mean to speak disparagingly of any one who is a student of natural philosophy. I should be very sorry if Meletus could bring so grave a charge against me. But the simple truth is, O Athenians, that I have nothing to do with physical speculations.
We should remember, though, that the framing of this statement might represent a revisionist attempt on the part of Plato. The Clouds was a popular play and many copies were made. Plato might have been concerned that the play was tarnishing the memory of his teacher, and gone out of his way to refute the impression.The basic plot of the play is that Strepsiades, whose son Phidippides has racked up huge debts in his name, goes to the “Think Shop”, a sort of school of sophistry run by Socrates. His goal is to learn rhetoric so well that he can argue his way out of paying his creditors. After finding that he is too old to follow Socrates’ logical acrobatics, he decides to send Phidippides in his stead. Phidippides learns so well that he is later able to publicly beat his father and justify it so convincingly that no one can argue with him.
The Clouds, of course, is a story about conflict between old and new systems of education. The old system, represented by Strepsiades, emphasized military training and memorizing traditional poetry, preparing a young citizen to be a successful hopelite citizen-soldier. The new system of the sophists was also practical, since it emphasized rhetoric and public speaking to make the student successful in lawsuits or the assembly. To Aristophanes, who thought that his fellow Athenians were far too litigious, and was at heart a social conservative, the new system would have provided a rich field for ridicule, even if generational conflict was not a classic subject for comedy. As is often the case with the deeply intellectual comedy of Aristophanes, however, there were deeper philosophical issues in play.
“What is the best form of education?” is one of the perennial philosophical questions. We will meet it again repeatedly in the Great Books. On a more meta level, the Great Books movement in general represents one side of a modern debate about education. At the risk of oversimplification, Great Books proponents believe in a more traditional form of education based on the core literature and concepts of Western Civilization, as opposed the newer “progressive” or “democratic” systems of education which emphasize relativism, openness, and inclusion of minority viewpoints. The Great Books approach is based primarily on that used in ancient universities in the high medieval through early Victorian periods, as adapted by such Victorian reformers as John Henry Newman. Its primary modern champions were Mortimer Adler and his associates. More recently writers such as Allan Bloom, John Lukacs, and Donald Kagan, though they shy away from associating themselves with the Adler clique, have argued for a similar approach. The progressive/democratic approach was first articulated in the works of John Dewey, reached its full realization during the culture wars of the 1960’s, and is taught as dogma in nearly every Education graduate program today.
In the later Hellenistic world, particularly among the elite of the Roman Empire, the dominant educational philosophy that emerged was a essentially a synthesis of the old gymnasium education and sophism, and post-Socratic philosophy. This gives me hope that our own civilization may yet learn to balance the ideals of the Great Books movement with those of Dewey and his disciples.
Last week I wrote about free speech in a democracy and how Thucydides’ History of the Peloponnesian War may have been a revisionist attempt aimed at changing the dominant historical interpretation at the time. Just now I finished reading another exercise of free political speech, Oliver Stone’s and Peter Kuznick’s The Untold History of the United States, which also attacks a dominant historical narrative. The authors tell a story in which 20th century United States followed a relentless course towards imperialism, dominated by right leaning plutocrats, as opposed to the “history in the textbooks” which frames the US as the heroes, struggling against Nazis, Communists, Islamic terrorists, and other evil bogey-men.
Before proceeding, I should disclose that I read the “young readers” edition of the book, mainly because the original edition was checked out when I went to the library. While I obviously wasn’t able to compare, it seems that the total page count is about the same, but the young readers version is broken into two volumes and does away with footnotes in favor of additional illustrations.
The book is just as biased as one might expect, given the nature of the project and who the identities of the authors. Oliver Stone is well known both in and out of Hollywood for his leftist tendencies and fondness for conspiracy theories. Kuznick is a history professor whose main areas of study are the Hiroshima and Nagasaki bombings and the Cold War. He is so heavily involved in anti-nuclear activism that it must be hard for him to remain objective when he publishes on these matters. Still, wishing to avoid succumbing to an intentional fallacy, I tried to clear my mind and judge the book on its own merits, even though it was clearly written to support the authors’ previously developed platforms, rather than in a spirit of true scholarly inquiry.Untold History is actually a fairly interesting read. Other reviewers have pointed out a lack of academic rigor and over-reliance on secondary sources. I was unable to find any major misstatements of fact, however. I also think that it is appropriate for a book of such broad scope to draw from secondary sources, especially if it is intended as some sort of “anti-textbook”. No one does archive research to write a history textbook. Rather, they synthesize each chapter from several well regarded books by previous authors.
Still, there is no question that the authors picked out the facts that happened to justify their positions. They also repeatedly ascribe thoughts and motivations to various people which they could not possibly know for certain, one of the classic “tells” of the revisionist. And they were rather more blatant about it all than Thucydides, for example. Then again, some of the facts are rather telling, even when picked out in isolation. Did you know that Henry Ford published an antisemitic newspaper and used to have antisemitic literature translated and shipped to Germany, that most of the army trucks used in the Blitzkrieg were supplied by Ford and GM, or that Hitler kept a picture of Ford in his office? Did you know that the Japanese were ready to surrender before the US dropped the bomb, provided only that they were given a guarantee of the emperor’s personal safety? Things to think about, to be sure.
The book was exactly as advertised, and is rather entertaining. For us writers, it stands as a good example of how not to write history if we want to be taken seriously in the scholarly community. If, on the other hand, our goal is the sell a documentary series to Showtime, along with a companion book and other merchandising tie-ins, then this is apparently precisely how to do it. It worked for Stone and Kuznick, anyway.
Today this blog returns to the Greek theater with the works of Aristophanes. Aristophanes is the only writer of the Greek genre known as “Old Comedy” for whom complete plays have survived. Comedy, which tends to rely on pop culture references and current events, is often an ephemeral genre. The fact that Aristophanes’ plays still get laughs 2400 years after their first performance is the main reason they have survived so long. Like Shakespeare and Molière, he is one of an exclusive group of comedians whose work is timeless.The earliest extant Aristophanes play is The Acharnians, produced in 425 BCE when he was about 20 years old. Acharnia is a rural region of Attica which was particularly devastated by the Spartans’ annual raids during the Peloponnesian War, forcing its inhabitants to live as refugees within the walls of Athens. The Acharnians trivializes the Athenians’ reasons for going to war and criticizes the state for not making peace. The main character, Dicaeopolis, is an Athenian farmer who manages to negotiate a personal peace with Sparta, allowing him to live a comfortably hedonistic life, free from the hardships of war. Cameo characters of Euripides and Lamachus (whom we met in Thucydides as one of the generals of the Sicilian expedition) make appearances as Dicaeopolis’ next-door neighbors. In the final scene we see Dicaeopolis packing a food basket and preparing for a drinking party while Lamachus packs his arms and prepares to repel a Spartan attack (Euripides has long sense retired to an attic to bury himself in his poetry). At the close of the play Lamachus is carried back on stage, having been injured in battle, while a tipsy Dicaepolis wobbles in supported by two flute girls. It is simply incredible that a young playwright was allowed to ridicule state policy in time of war, and even make fun of a popular general. This is even more exceptional in that the play was performed in the Dionysian theater during one of the most important religious festivals of the year. It would be as if, at the height of World War II, the Church of England sponsored Benny Hill to write a play, put on in Westminster Abbey as part of the Christmas program, in which the main character mocked the government and made a personal peace with the Nazis. This would never have happened, even in England.
Admittedly, Aristophanes frequently ended up in hot water for his criticism of Cleon, but Cleon’s revenge took the form of private lawsuits, and he was never effective at shutting the playwright up. If anything, Cleon’s response seems to have inspired Aristophanes to greater heights of polemic. For example the next play we have, The Knights, is one long personal attack on Cleon.
Donald Kagan, in his open Yale lecture series, makes the point that the right to free of speech is one of the main factors that set the Athenian democracy apart from other Hellenistic governments. The Athenians considered it one of the most critical aspects to a functioning democracy. This is interesting, because when we think of the Athenian democracy, we tend to think of the Assembly. In fact, however, nearly every Greek city had an assembly, normally made up of all citizens of the Hopelite class and above. Only Athens had complete freedom of speech–in the assembly, on stage, and everywhere else. Contrast this to Sparta, where an Assembly vote was required to ratify declarations of war and some treaties. In these meetings the regular Spartans, who may have been mustered in ranks, were not allowed to speak. The council offered them a yes or no question and they voted by banging on their shields, with the louder side carrying the vote. In fact, Spartans did not even enjoy freedom of speech in private; Sparta was known for having one of the most efficient and ruthless secret police forces in the ancient world.
The United States today is more like Athens than Sparta. The First Amendment protects our freedom of speech, and there is effectively no censorship of the theater. Even the the censors of broadcast media tend to be more concerned about obscenity than politics. This is a fairly recent state of events, though, particularly in war time. At any point from the Civil War to at least the end of the 1960’s a public performance criticizing the government during war would have landed the writer in federal prison. It was only with the backlash against McCarthyism, followed by the so-called “culture wars” of the 1960s, that Americans began to take back their First Amendment rights.
Today, as in Classical Athens, freedom of speech is essential to Democracy. I have written in the past that Democracy, as a political system, seems to be on the wane. Once artists no longer have freedom of political speech, we will know for certain that it is finally gone.
Last night my new contemporary fantasy short story went live on Amazon. You can buy it right here:
The folks at Creative Minority were good enough to do a news blurb about it on their website. Just to be clear, this story is was not actually published by Creative Minority. Anyway, I think their post sums things up fairly well:
NON-FICTION WRITER BRANCHES INTO FANTASY
Montrose, CA, May, 19, 2015
Kevin A. Straight, best known for blogging about literature and history and for his monograph Freight Forwarding Cost Estimation: An Analogy Based Approach (2014), ventured into new territory, self-publishing The Phylactery, a contemporary fantasy short story.
“I’ve actually been writing fiction, including fantasy, since 4th grade,” explains Mr. Straight, “I thought it was probably time some of it saw the light of day.”
When asked why he chose a to self-publish instead of following a more traditional route, he replied, “I think soon most short fiction, especially genre fiction, is going to be self published. There are relatively few magazines left that handle speculative fiction, and most of them are trying to position themselves in a more literary way. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, but it means that there aren’t really any good intermediaries for pulp sci-fi and fantasy. If you want to sell it, you’re better off selling directly to the readers. Ultimately, I think disintermediation will be a good thing, because readers will have better access and writers will get to keep more of the value from the product.”
The Phylactery is set in a slightly fictionalized Riverside, CA in the present day and follows the misadventures of an evil wizard trying to salvage an evil scheme in which everything seems to be going wrong. It is available world-wide in the Amazon Kindle Store.
Kevin A. Straight is currently writing a non-fiction book, 14/2: A History of Outside Scholarship and the Fourteenth Amendment, which will be published by Creative Minority Productions in 2017.
I trust you will forgive me for lumping the last three books of Thucydides‘ History together in one post, but I have my reasons. Book VI is the true climax of the narrative, in which the Athenians mount a massive expedition to Sicily and suffer a loss of men, treasure, ships, and morale from which they can never recover. Everything after is mere denouement, even though the war lasts for another decade. In Book VII the war shifts to the Aegean and Athens manages to scrape together enough forces to win a few victories, especially after the fickle Alcibiades switches back to their side, but the final outcome is never in doubt. By the unfinished Book VIII the Persians have come in on the Spartan side, Alcibiades is gone again, and it is obviously just a matter of time before the final defeat. Thucydides leaves off in mid sentence, leaving it to Xenophon to write about the end of the war.Maybe Thucydides’ health declined, or perhaps he was recalled to Athens and no longer needed a writing project to spend the empty hours of his exile. As a fellow writer, I suspect that, having laid out his main thesis and arguments, he became bored with the final chapters and put them off, never finishing. But what was this thesis that he was trying to prove?
I just finished reading Donald Kagan’s book Thucydides: The Reinvention of History, which sheds some interesting light on the question. Kagan, one of the world’s foremost Thucydides scholars, argues that the “father of scientific history” was a revisionist who crafted the History to support his own platform. The narrative that Thucydides presents is that the war was inevitable but the Athenians had a strong chance of winning under the leadership of Pericles. After Pericles died in the plague, the democratic mob, urged on by demagogues like Cleon, went out of control and adopted a reckless policy, including the invasion of Sicily, which destroyed the empire. Thucydides presents this perspective so effectively that it became the dominant interpretation of the Peloponnesian war for 2400 years.
In Kagan’s book, however, he explains how, while Thucydides clearly believed this interpretation, there is significant evidence within his own work to question whether things were that simple. The war may or may not have been inevitable eventually, but Pericles was the one who pushed Athens to go to war when they did. His defensive policy was already being shown to be ineffective by the time of his death. It was only after Cleon and others urged Athens into a more aggressive strategy that they began making advances. Cleon himself, despite being hated by Thucydides, Aristophanes, and others, actually seems to have been fairly competent.
Perhaps most importantly the invasion of Sicily, far from being a mad power grab by the mob, was a fairly reasonable plan which might have succeeded had it not been for the gross incompetence of Nicias. It was Nicias who, without actually meaning to, talked the assembly into a massive escalation of commitment in Sicily. It was Nicias who committed one tactical and logistic blunder after another in the Sicilian campaign. It was Nicias who waited too long to withdraw after it was obvious the campaign was lost, turning a strategic withdrawal into a disaster in which he lost his entire force and his own life.
Thucydides liked and respected Pericles and Nicias but loathed Cleon and distrusted democracy. Thus, he structured the narrative to support his own bias, which probably went against the commonly held views of the day. Kagan points out that, despite having a strong viewpoint, Thucydides was true to his own stated methodology and did not deliberately withhold information. He wrote at a time when the war was still fresh in the minds of his readers and he could assume that they knew the major events, so he could emphasize the speeches and happenings that reinforced his own thesis.
Whether this interpretation is true or not–and perhaps particularly if it is true, Thucydides remains one of the greatest and most influential historians of all time. Still, the issue reminds us, as readers of the Great Books, that every writer has their own agenda and their own biases, as does every reader, and we need to take them into account if we want to truly come to grips with these texts.
In recent weeks I have been blogging about The History of the Peloponnesian War by Thucydides as part of my ongoing Great Books project to improve my writing. For non-fiction writing the value of the History is obvious; Not only is it one of our most important primary sources about the ancient Mediterranean world, but Thucydides’ political and diplomatic analysis is also applicable to many other periods and his methods represent a watershed moment in the evolution of the discipline of history itself. As writers, though, we should never read a history book without asking ourselves what we could take from it and how we could adapt it to create fiction.
History itself is a literary genre; the History and the Novel are first cousins. In this post, however, I am writing mainly about adaptations of history into genre fiction. The two modern genres that do this most obviously are historical fiction and alternate history, both of which, fall under the general umbrella of speculative fiction in the currently fashionable nomenclature.
The Peloponnesian War has fueled the creative flames of of many a speculative fiction author. Not only is it a dynamic and interesting period, but it has the advantage that good primary sources exist, yet not so many of them that a writer can not read all of the important works over the course of a few weeks. Two modern writers who have handled the period effectively are Rosemary Sutcliff and Harry Turtledove, both prolific writers and acknowledged masters of their respective genres. Both chose to focus their narrative around the life and career of Alcibiades who, as I wrote last week, is an intriguing character for a number of reasons.
Sutcliff’s work, The Flowers of Adonis (1969), is a full-length adult historical novel which follows Alcibiades from the start of the Sicilian expedition to his death. She draws material mainly from Thucydides, Xenophon’s Hellenica, and Plutarch’s Life of Alcibiades. Sutcliff’s most characteristic style, seen in most of her young adult novels, is to tell the story through the first person point of view of a single main character, usually a young person who is a minor participant in a historical event. This technique works well in YA fiction because it makes it easier for readers to relate to the character and immerse themselves in the time and place. In The Flowers of Adonis, however, Sutcliff abandons this style and tells the story through the first person viewpoints of numerous supporting characters, often switching characters several times in a chapter. The one character whose point of view and inner thoughts we never see is Alcibiades. This is an incredibly effective structure because it allows the reader to see how Alcibiades is perceived by his friends, lovers, enemies, and the common people in the city of Athens and the Athenian fleet, yet the reader must draw their own conclusions about the man’s thoughts and motivation. By not showing any of Alcibiades’ internal dialogue, Sutcliff avoids conveying an over-familiarity which might undermine the “larger than life” aspect which is such an enduring part of the character’s mystique.
Turtledove’s work, The Daimon (2002), is an alternate history novella which was written for the anthology Worlds that Weren’t and has since appeared in other collections. Like Sutcliff, he draws heavily from Thucydides and Plutarch. He also introduces material from Aristophanes‘ plays and Plato‘s dialogues. Like Sutcliff, he starts his story in Athens as Alcibiades and his forces are preparing to depart on their invasion of Sicily. This is an alternate history, though. The point of departure from actual history is when Socrates, despite being a bit too old for such adventures, decides to volunteer for the expedition. This means that when the assembly sends a ship to recall Alcibiades to stand trial for blasphemy Socrates is on hand to advise him to ignore the summons and stay in the field. Under Alcibiades’ leadership the Athenians win the Sicilian campaign instead of suffering the crushing defeat which was the turning point of the actual Peloponnesian War. This allows Alcibiades to force a Spartan surrender and return home victorious to install himself as a tyrant, changing the entire course of world history.
The Daimon differs from The Flowers of Adonis in several important ways. Being a novella, it covers a single plot arc, in contrast to The Flowers of Adonis which, like most novels, has several secondary plot lines. Unlike Sutcliff, Turtledove uses a limited third person point of view which follows both major and minor characters. Besides being typical of his own style, this makes it easy for him to insert narrative details of the historical period, and vivid details are the key to creating believable worlds in speculative fiction. The most important difference, though, lies in the fundamental question that each story strives to answer. You can’t have speculative fiction without speculating. The Daimon, while it is certainly character driven, is primarily concerned with causation. Did the defeat in Sicily cause Athens to loose the war? Did Alcibiades’ absence cause the defeat? Did the Athenian defeat shape later history? The Flowers of Adonis, on the other hand, is effectively a 383 page character study of one person. What did Alcibiades want? What made him the way he was? Why did he do the things he did?
Of course historical fiction does tend to be rather concerned with character, while exploration of causation could be considered the purpose of alternate history. In this case, however, I think the difference flows just as much from the authors’ interests and their decision about the kind of story they wanted to tell.
These two works are only two examples, drawn from only two genres, of the sort of fiction an author can create from a historical event like the Peloponnesian War. The ancient historical works we have about the period provide enough background for an infinite number of stories, told in an infinite number of ways. Perhaps the next will be written by you or me.
About an hour ago you may have gotten a large number of emails about “new” posts. I am in the process of merging several of my older blogs, and I didn’t realize that WordPress was publicizing posts every time I moved them. (As I always say, I’m a writer, not a web master).
All of the posts listed will eventually be available on kevinastraight.com, but only after I’ve had time to edit them.
Again, sorry for the large amount of email.
Images make your blog more interesting and inviting to readers. They give your content management system (CMS) something to display as a thumbnail in the “related posts” and similar widgets. They can even get you more hits if users are searching images on Google and decide to click through to your page. If you’re like me, though, you don’t usually have the time or the budget to take your own pictures. What’s the best way to find high quality images to use on your blog?
First, lets talk about what you shouldn’t do. You should never just download an image off someone’s website and use it, unless you know the license terms. The same goes for scanning anything out of a book or magazine. Despite the currently prevailing “wild west” mentality in the blogosphere, it is illegal to use images unless you have a license. Besides the fact that we all want to be good citizens, someone who catches you using their copyrighted media without permission can usually, depending on the country where your host is based, get your website shut down for a few weeks while your lawyers sort things out. It’s rare for this to actually happen, but rare is not the same thing as never. Personally, I try to stick to public domain and CC licensed images. When I have to use a copyrighted image–usually because I am blogging about a television show–I write a justification of why my usage falls under “fair use” and put it in the alt text of the image. Better safe than sorry.
Luckily in the past few years a number of excellent sources have emerged for high quality, free images with known licenses. The six on this list are some of my personal favorites.
1) Wikimedia Commons – Usually the first place I try. This site not only contains all the images used in Wikipedia, but they keep uploading other public domain image collections as they become available. Every image in their database has a page which gives you the license type and other meta-information and has links to download the image in various sizes. The only drawback I’ve found is that sometimes when I find a really good picture for a topic, it turns out that Wikipedia has already used it, which makes me look like I use Wikipedia for all my research. Also, be aware that some of their images have noncommercial licenses, which are fine for use by a nonprofit like Wikimedia, but do not allow the image to be used on a monetized blog.
2) Flickr – The mother-lode of free images. Not only do individuals share their images on Flickr, but museums and archives, from the Smithsonian to the British Library, are increasingly using the site to serve their image collections. Many image are covered by a free license, and the license type is clearly notated. As long as you know what you’re looking for, you can usually find it on Flickr.
3) The US Government – Under US copyright law, most images created by government employees “in the regular course of their jobs” are automatically in the public domain. Many agencies maintain large image collections, most of which are listed on the link above. If you are looking for pictures of animals or landscapes, the National Park Service is a particularly good bet. And, of course, the military loves to post pictures of ships, planes, and tanks.
5) Many Art Museums are in the process of digitizing their holdings and making them available online. Any 2-dimensional representation of a work of art produced prior to 1923 is definitely in the public domain, but its still good manners to credit the museum from whose site you downloaded it. Rijksmuseum (in Amsterdam) and The Norton Simon (in Pasadena) are two examples of museums with large searchable collections online.
6) Pond5 sells stock media, especially things like backgrounds, music, and sound effects for film makers. Recently, though, they have added a free section which contains public domain images and other media, mainly gleaned from US government agencies. Because they mirror the NASA image collection, they are particularly useful if you need pictures of airplanes, astronauts, or celestial objects. While you’re there, create a Pond5 account so you can get on their mailing list. A few times a year they e-mail out links to download free samples.
Last week I placed a new academic working paper on Academia.edu that roughly parallels Chapter 11 of my upcoming book. The version in the book will be written at a different reading level and without the math equations, but this is still a pretty good taste of what is coming.
Scholars like to post these preliminary drafts for several reasons. The most important one for an independent researcher like myself is to receive feedback and suggestions prior to submission. Another reason is to make findings available to the community sooner. The average turn-around time to publish a journal article is two or three years and the field may have moved on by the time the paper hits the presses.
I probably don’t need to worry about obsolescence with this particular article, since the events with which it deals happened back in the 1950’s and 1960’s. My book will be a study of the role of outside scholars in our society and, in particular, their ability to shape public policy. Outside Scholars, in my usage, are people who engage in research and knowledge creation without being formally affiliated with the dominant academic community. This particular article/chapter deals with an outside scholar named Victor Sharrow who devoted his life to arguing for what he saw as the “correct” interpretation on the Fourteenth Amendment. He was ultimately unsuccessful, but I feel his career provides several intriguing insights as a characteristic outside scholar narrative.
Sharrow saw the Fourteenth Amendment as the key to dismantling the Jim Crow system in the South. In the months prior to the 1958 election he mounted an intense one-man lobbying campaign to sway Dwight Eisenhower and other politicians to his views. In my article I examine several of his arguments from a standpoint of modern data science.
Those of you who read my posts on data science and Python programming might be interested in the simulation models I describe in the paper. I would be happy to send my spreadsheet and code to anyone who is interested. Just e-mail me or message my Facebook page.
If all goes well, the book should be released in late 2016 or early 2017.
Thucydides’ fifth book marks an intermission in the Peloponnesian war. Neither Athens nor Sparta has much to show for a decade of bloodshed and expense, and both are exhausted. Brasidas and Cleon, “who had been the two principle opponents of peace on either side”, have both been killed in the battle of Amphipolis, clearing the way cooler heads to negotiate a peace treaty. None of the root causes of the war have changed, but neither side is interested in recommencing hostilities on the mainland yet, even though abroad the “unstable armistice did not prevent either party doing the other the most effectual injury”. This time of comparative peace lasts nearly six years, but it is a tense time for all of Greece as alliances shift. Argos, a powerful city which has remained neutral so far, begins lure away many of Sparta’s allies and is clearly preparing to make a move of her own.
Against this background, Thucydides introduces one of the most famous, or perhaps infamous, characters in Greek history. “Alcibiades, son of Clinias, a man yet young in years for any other Hellenic city,” is the new star of Athenian politics. He maneuvers the Argives into siding with Athens and attacking Sparta, traveling to Argos to personally oversee raids. Later in Book V, he is promoted, becoming the youngest of the Athenian generals.
Even in his own lifetime, Alcibiades seemed larger than life and more than human. He is gloriously handsome, athletically gifted, and indecently rich. The scion of one of the most famous noble dynasties in Athens, he has been fostered by Pericles and educated by Sophocles. Even his enemies admit that he is a brilliant diplomat and commander. When we meet him in Book V, Alcibiades has already distinguished himself in the army and, now in his early thirties, has emerged as a leader in Athens’ pro war, pro democratic party, filling the vacuum left by Cleon’s death. There are many who fear his growing influence, naked ambition, and questionable personal morality,
[A]lthough publicly his conduct of the war was as good as could be desired, individually, his habits gave offence to every one, and caused them to commit affairs to other hands, and thus before long to ruin the city.
His ostentatious lifestyle too is a cause for concern. Amidst the austerity of war-time Athens, he is famous for his decadent parties, the splendor of his home and clothing, and for the unprecedented act of entering no less than seven chariot teams in the Olympics. He rationalizes these expenses as being good for the city,
“The Hellenes, after expecting to see our city ruined by the war, concluded it to be even greater than it really is, by reason of the magnificence with which I represented it at the Olympic games, when I sent into the lists seven chariots, a number never before entered by any private person, and won the first prize, and was second and fourth, and took care to have everything else in a style worthy of my victory. Custom regards such displays as honourable, and they cannot be made without leaving behind them an impression of power. Again, any splendour that I may have exhibited at home in providing choruses or otherwise, is naturally envied by my fellow citizens, but in the eyes of foreigners has an air of strength as in the other instance. And this is no useless folly, when a man at his own private cost benefits not himself only, but his city: nor is it unfair that he who prides himself on his position should refuse to be upon an equality with the rest. “
Many are unconvinced. For the moment, though, Alcibiades’ rise seems unstoppable.
We will be hearing of Alcibiades again, and often. From this point on, he is one of the central personalities in both Thucydides’ history of the war and Xenophon’s sequel, The Hellenica. He is also heavily featured in Plato’s dialogues, and Plutarch’s Lives and appears in the pages of Aristophanes, Aristotle, Shakespeare, and others, down to the modern day.
One of the things that makes Alcibiades so fascinating is how un-Greek he is. The polis, or city state, was the basic unit of Greek society. Plato, Aristotle, and others wrote at length about how no one could live a happy life outside the polis. Individualism was always subordinated to the good of the state and a man without a polis was an alien everywhere. Yet Alcibiades switches sides several times in the course of the war. He is an individualist at a time when individualism was subordinated to the state, a humanist centuries before the humanist movement, and a Nietzschean superman centuries before Nietzsche was born. Alcibiades served only Alcibiades. He was one of those people who were so brilliant that they didn’t believe the rules applied to them. In many ways he seems like he would have fit in better as a hero in the epics of Homer than as a politician in the histories of the classical period.
One of the most ingrained assumptions of the Greek society was that hubris was always punished. Alcibiades’ refusal to follow the rules, whether it be by mocking the Gods or impregnating the King of Sparta’s wife often got him into trouble. He spent a large portion of this life as a hated fugitive and died early and violently. But he also experienced many moments of glory and triumph and his enduring fame, his kleos, is based as much on his ability as on his ethical failings. Perhaps he would have seen that as an acceptable trade-off.