La recepción durante el siglo XX se preguntó si la filosofía nietzscheana era a-, im- o anti-política, es decir, si podía ser asimilada por la democracia, o si era antimoderna, elitista y reaccionaria. El italiano Roberto Esposito ha propuesto leerla como formando e informando el paradigma de la biopolítica. Se discuten cuatro lecturas de esa biopolítica: como formadora del paradigma de la inmunidad, como tanatopolítica, como liberal y neoliberal, y como biopolítica afirmativa. Twentieth-century readers wondered if Nietzschean philosophy was apolitical, (...) impolitic, or anti-political; that is, if it could be assimilated by democracy or if it was antimodern, elitist, and reactionary. The Italian philosopher Robert Esposito has proposed reading Nietzsche's philosophy as forming and informing the biopolitical paradigm. Four readings of these biopolitics are discussed: as part of the paradigm of immunity, as thanatopolitics, as liberal and neoliberal, and as affirmative biopolitics. (shrink)

For the past thirty-five years or so forgiveness has been of great interest to philosophers, and the recent spate of new books and scholarly essays on the topic is evidence that this interest continues unabated. David Konstan’s Before Forgiveness: The Origins of a Moral Idea is among the recent contributions to this literature. Konstan argues that none of the various ways in which people in the classical Greek and Roman world managed angry emotional states such as resentment constitute (...) the modern phenomenon of forgiveness. And although forgiveness is prominent in the Hebrew and Christian Bibles, the main sense of that term refers to God’s forgiveness of human sin, and not to the contemporary notion of human interpersonal forgiveness, which typically refers to a moral transformation of the victim of wrong that involves, centrally, overcoming or forswearing resentment caused by and directed toward a wrongdoer, and doing so for moral reasons. This latter component refers to behaviors enga .. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:A Life Worthy of the Gods: The Materialist Psychology of EpicurusKelly E. ArensonDavid Konstan. A Life Worthy of the Gods: The Materialist Psychology of Epicurus. Las Vegas-Zurich-Athens: Parmenides Publishing, 2008. Pp. xx + 176. Paper, $34.00.In this modestly expanded edition of his 1973 book, Some Aspects of Epicurean Psychology (Brill), David Konstan attempts to flesh out the Epicurean explanation of the causes of unhappiness: “empty beliefs” (...) (kenodoxia)—most importantly, the groundless fear of death—and the irrational desires that fuel and are fueled by them. Konstan’s central argument, preserved from the earlier edition, is deceptively simple: empty beliefs, according to Epicureans, are in large part the product of a symbolic association—a “linguistic confusion”—of the afterlife with certain real-life human ills, such as poverty and obscurity.In the first chapter, which is new to this edition, Konstan calls on psychology to flesh out the Epicurean understanding of empty fears and irrational desires—ancient psychology, that is: a science of the soul. Konstan’s reading of the relation between sensation (aisthēseis), the passions (pathē) of pleasure and pain, and belief (doxa) in Epicurean doctrine is unorthodox but thorough. Rather than mapping pathē onto either the soul as a whole or the body, Konstan assigns pathē to the non-rational part of the soul, the seat of sensation. He locates the emotions, which “do not seem to have a special name in Epicurean theory,” in the rational part (11). Crucial to this schema is Konstan’s claim, based on Lucretius’s De Rerum Natura and Diogenes Laertius’s doxography of Epicurus, that Epicureans did not consider emotions such as fear and joy to be pathē at all, since emotions depend on memory and reasoning, whereas pathē do not. The upshot is that fear, as a rational emotion, involves belief and evaluation, and is therefore susceptible to error; whence the psychological roots of pernicious “empty beliefs.”In chapter two, Konstan addresses the Epicurean conundrum of why humans are plagued by fears and anxieties when their needs are so basic. Konstan takes as an explanation of this phenomenon Lucretius’s analysis of irrational desires and their parasitic relationship [End Page 95] with baseless fears. Out of their fear of death—the fear to beat all fears, according to Epicureans—people irrationally desire goods such as wealth, power, and glory that they mistakenly believe will delay their descent into the underworld. Konstan contends that there was a “symbolic association between poverty and death’s antechamber” that was not merely metaphorical (45); to escape poverty is not to cheat something like death, but to cheat death itself, just as to pursue wealth is literally to pursue life. In their vain quest to waylay death, people resort to greediness, crime, deceit—in short, any behavior that could result in material gain. Unfortunately, these unsavory activities serve only to augment rather than assuage fears, since wrongdoers fear being punished for their illicit deeds. The fear of punishment in turn spurs more irrational desires, forming a vicious cycle of mutually reinforcing behavior and states of mind that are incompatible with tranquility.In the final two chapters, Konstan combs Epicurean social theory for the roots of irrational fears and desires and shows how Epicurean epistemology enables the sage to avoid them. Konstan argues that harmful fears and desires emerged when words came to refer not only to visible sensory phenomena, but also to abstract notions whose referents might be phantoms—misleading accounts of the gods and the limits of desire that do not correspond with reality. In addition, laws served to foment fears of divine retribution and death as lawmakers attempted to regulate behavior by disseminating myths about the wrath of the gods and the afterlife. In the final chapter, Konstan is on well-trodden ground when he claims that the Epicurean sage is able to control fears and desires by understanding the nature of reality, pleasure, and human needs.This book will primarily be of interest to scholars of Epicureanism; the sheer number of footnotes and the technical language make it rather inaccessible to the non-specialist. And the specialist may find that Konstan’s treatment of the... (shrink)

The review contains detailed comments on the English translation of Hierocles' treatise with discussion of the philosophical import (terminology, meaning, structure of the argument, etc.) of choices made.

Aristotle defines anger as a desire for revenge aroused by an intentional and undeserved slight. His remarks on revenge are scattered throughout his corpus causing many commentators to overlook or oversimplify his account of revenge. Stocker and Hegeman, for example, claim that for Aristotle the purpose of revenge is to make the offender suffer and take pleasure in his suffering. David Konstan claims that the purpose of revenge is to restore one’s sense of honour and social status. Both these (...) claims are correct, but the main purpose of revenge for Aristotle, I argue, is to restore justice and ensure that we are not mistreated by the offender in the future. I begin by showing that for Aristotle revenge entails three things. First, we desire to cause the offender pain; second, we want the offender to know that we are the cause of his pain; and third, we want him to know that we are causing him pain because he mistreated us. If the purpose of revenge was merely to take pleasure in the offender’s suffering, these last two criteria would be unnecessary. I further show that the desire for revenge is not a desire to destroy or ruin the offender. Killing another person or ruining their reputation would be an act of hatred, according to Aristotle, not revenge. This is an important point and one that many contemporary philosophers writing on revenge have failed to make. For Aristotle, revenge is analogous to punishment. We punish people for stealing so that they will refrain from stealing in the future. Similarly, we seek revenge because we believe the offender wronged us; we want to cause him pain so that he will not wrong us in the future. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Isocrates and Civic EducationRobert G. SullivanIsocrates and Civic Education. Edited by Takis Poulakis and David Depew. Austin: University of Texas Press, 2004. Pp. x + 277. $50.00, hardcover.Henry Burrowes Lathrop, in his magisterial Translations from the Classics into English from Caxton to Chapman, adopted a distinctly apologetic tone for having included in that book a lengthy gloss of Isocrates' writings. He felt constrained to do so, noting, "This (...) fairly long exposition has been necessary, since Isocrates is little read nowadays." Well, of course, "nowadays" Isocrates is read a great deal, and he is generally considered to be one of the more important figures in the classical rhetorical tradition. There are a variety of reasons for the revival of Isocrates' fortunes; he has always been accepted as an exemplar of style, and has exerted strong influences in a number of historical eras, but he is seen increasingly as an original and significant rhetorical theorist. However, the strongest attraction to scholars of our era is the connection by Isocrates of two concepts, rhetorical discourse and civic education, in what he called hê tôn logôn padieia. At the nexus of these ideas is not merely a historically interesting aspect of classical rhetorical theory but an important link between rhetorical theory and political practice, of heightened importance to a democratic culture.The volume under consideration gathers some of the best informed contemporary scholars to address this confluence. The ten essays include work by classicists, philosophers, and rhetoricians, all of whom are working in an explicitly interdisciplinary posture. The volume is divided into five thematic sections, with two essays contributed on each of the themes, each pair addressing different aspects of Isocrates' notion of civic education.The first section addresses the shape and purpose of the Isocratean program of civic education. The central question addressed by these essays is fundamental. If we grant the generality that Isocrates has a program of civic education, what are the particular goals of his pedagogy? Simply put, what civic virtues can one expect to acquire from an education in the Isocratean system? For Josiah Ober the route to the answering of this question is a careful and extraordinarily interesting reading of Isocrates great apologia, Antidosis. Ober sees Isocrates attempting to develop in his students a "complex and integral identity" (39) that will allow them to remain both true to themselves and useful to the city, a careful blending of soul-craft and state-craft. Takis Poulakos focuses on the epistemological foundation of Isocratean practice by making a careful account of Isocrates' use of the term doxa. Poulakos does an excellent [End Page 174] job of cutting through the thicket of Isocratean nuance and correctly identifies the theoretically charged notion of doxa as being both the process and product of informed conjecture.The next six essays are, in essence, comparative, laying Isocratean concepts of civic virtue and pedagogy against those of the sophists, Aristotle, and Plato. John Poulakos deftly separates Isocrates' purposes and pedagaogy from the sophists Protagoras and Gorgias. Particularly striking is the distinction Poulakos draws between how Isocrates and the sophists conceived of the power of language. The sophists, having a "dynastic" conception of language, imagine that mastering rhetoric gives one direct access to tyranical power over the individual psyche. Isocrates, less sure of (or perhaps ethically nervous about) language's capacity for political witchcraft, adapts a "hegemonic" notion of logos as acivilizing force, a means of leadership toward good ends. Ekaterina Haskins contrasts the "playful iconoclasm" of Gorgias with the "political responsibility" of Isocrates (85) in the varying ways they make use of the mythopoetic tradition. Davis Konstans contributes an extremely interesting examination of important matters upon which Isocrates and Plato find themselves in agreement, notably the deficiencies of Athenian democracy and the preferred role of the intellectual in society. Konstans' position is very stimulating, if at first glance counterintuitive, as the greater part of modern scholarship has aimed to force these two figures into opposing camps. Kathryn Morgan also begins her essay by focusing on those things Plato and Isocrates agreed upon, noting that both were deeply dissatisfied with conventional civic education in Athens. From this, Morgan turns to... (shrink)

Ideologies, worldviews, or simply personal theories, often acquire a distorted and pathological character, and become a factor of alienation rather than an epistemic resource and an aid for personal existence. This paper attempts to better define the limits and characteristics of this experience, which we call distorted intellectual beliefs, or general conceptual beliefs (GB), while trying to highlight both its sometimes dramatic background and its personal and social consequences, which are no less potentially deleterious. We believe that such experiences should (...) not be confused tout court with a broader and more complex phenomenon, such as extremism and politico-religious radicalism, but are a specific typology of that broader and multifaceted fact that is self-deception. We hypothesize that the self-deception implicit in experiences of intellectual distortion produces a cognitive dissonance of which the subject is normally, though with varying intensity, aware (or may become aware through honest introspection). The phenomenon occurs in two extreme forms: one is normal (sporadic), the other is exceptional (systematic). The passage from one to the other is a complex process of escalation and de-escalation, on which multiple external and internal variables act. In its ascending path, it essentially coincides with a process of psychological polarization and cognitive "de-pluralization", while its descending phase marks a return to reality and a "re-pluralization", where the subject returns to being what he basically is, namely, an active and tireless meaning seeker. In the central part of the chapter, similarities and differences between processes of deradicalization and phenomena of religious deconversion are analyzed, with reference, among others, to the case of the Austro-Hungarian writer Arthur Koestler. -/- An abridged version of this text has been delivered for the Workshop "Explaining Extreme Belief and Extreme Behavior", September 15-16, 2022, Vrije Universiteit Amsterdam. I am grateful to David Konstan (NYU) for reading and commenting on a first version of this chapter and to Rik Peels (VUA) for his comments and questions during the Workshop. I would also like to thank my bachelor's and master's students at UDG, who discussed these topics at length with during semester 2022-B. (shrink)

L’intérêt suscité par le concept d’émotion chez les Grecs a ouvert une voie d’interprétation nouvelle en histoire de la psychologie. D. Konstan a montré en particulier, dans The Emotions of the Ancient Greeks (Toronto, 2006), qu’en accor­dant à certaines émotions une valeur cognitive, on relativise les lectures qui privilégient une dichotomie entre l’exercice de la pensée rationnelle et la dimen­sion affective, non rationnelle, de la vie psychique. Il reste cependant à montrer comment notre n...

Ideologies, worldviews, or simply personal theories, often acquire a distorted and pathological character, and become a factor of alienation rather than an epistemic resource and an aid for personal existence. This paper attempts to better define the limits and characteristics of this experience, which we call distorted intellectual beliefs, or general conceptual beliefs (GB), while trying to highlight both its sometimes dramatic background and its personal and social consequences, which are no less potentially deleterious. We believe that such experiences should (...) not be confused tout court with a broader and more complex phenomenon, such as extremism and politico-religious radicalism, but are a specific typology of that broader and multifaceted fact that is self-deception. We hypothesize that the self-deception implicit in experiences of intellectual distortion produces a cognitive dissonance of which the subject is normally, though with varying intensity, aware (or may become aware through honest introspection). The phenomenon occurs in two forms: one is normal (sporadic), the other is exceptional (systematic). The passage from one to the other is a complex process of escalation and de-escalation, on which multiple external and internal variables act. In its ascending path, it essentially coincides with a process of psychological polarization and cognitive "de-pluralization", while its descending phase marks a return to reality and a "re-pluralization", where the subject returns to being what he basically is, namely, an active and tireless meaning seeker. In the central part of the chapter, similarities and differences between processes of deradicalization and phenomena of religious deconversion are analyzed, with reference, among others, to the case of the Austro-Hungarian writer Arthur Koestler. -/- An abridged version of this text has been delivered for the Workshop "Explaining Extreme Belief and Extreme Behavior", September 15-16, 2022, Vrije Universiteit Amsterdam. I am grateful to David Konstan (NYU) for reading and commenting on a first version of this chapter and to Rik Peels (VUA) for his comments and questions during the Workshop. I would also like to thank my bachelor's and master's students at UDG, who discussed these topics at length with during semester 2022-B. (shrink)

ABSTRACT: Hall (1996) raises the question of the relationship between Aristotle’s Politics and Poetics by claiming that Aristotle had separated drama from its civic origins; various rejoinders to her challenge can be found in Heath (2009) and Jones (2012). In response to this question, I argue that a central connection between these two works is their shared concern about the effects of performance—both in the case of drama and music—either for performers or their audience. Aristotle’s criticisms of “spectacle” (opsis) in (...) tragedy—a problem taken up most recently in Bouchard (2012), Hanink (2011), Konstan (2013), Sifakis (2013), and Wise (2008)—thus parallel his criticisms of slavishness in musical performance in Politics 8. Thus, the problem of Aristotle’s silence about tragedy in his account of education in Politics 8—a problem taken up by Lord (1982) and more recently Ford (2004)—is explainable on the basis of an explicit and central doctrine from the Poetics, namely that a drama can produce the function of tragedy independent of public performance. On my reading, Aristotle’s Politics and Poetics together retain tragedy as a central “cultural” institution for the liberally educated citizen, a view completely consistent with everything Aristotle defends about tragedy in the Poetics. But Politics 8 displaces tragedy as the pre-eminent form of public education and in its place supplies instrumental music—no doubt much to the consternation of Athenian democrats both historically and their kindred spirits in contemporary drama and classics departments. My paper concludes by articulating and speculating about why music eclipses tragedy as the pre-eminent form of liberal arts education in Aristotle’s best regime. (shrink)

L’ouvrage est issu d’un colloque qui s’est tenu à Athènes en septembre 2017 et portait sur l’anthropologie de la peur dans la culture hellénique. Un tel objet de recherche s’inscrit dans le sillage d’une histoire des émotions particulièrement dynamique dans le champ des études anciennes (les travaux de D. Konstan, A. Chaniotis et Ph. Borgeaud sont abondamment mobilisés dans les différents chapitres et une bibliographie d’orientation figure à la fin du livre). L’introduction, rédigée par M. Pa...

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Friendship in the Classical World by David KonstanDavid K. GliddenDavid Konstan. Friendship in the Classical World. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1997. Pp. xiv + 206. Paper, $18.95.Despite its brevity, Konstan’s history of friendship in classical antiquity speaks volumes. With admirable precision and economy of expression, Konstan cites and surveys scores of ancient authors—poets, playwrights, politicians, novelists and historians, sophists, satirists, philosophers, and theologians—from Homer’s legendary (...) portrait of Achilles and Patroclus to the Christian fusions of Venantius Fortunatus in the sixth century of the common era. An impressive array of anthropologists, philosophers, and classical scholars enter into the discussion at specific interstices connecting philology, textual interpretation, ancient history, and modern social psychology all together, so as to display an evolving array of ancient philosophies, faiths, and attitudes concerned with friendly relations of one sort or another. Konstan grounds this history in a richly informed context of exacting detail. Yet, he charitably leaves his reader with the feeling that so much more needs to be explored.At the same time, what largely motivates this work is Konstan’s demonstrable conviction that ancient friendship exhibits recognizable resemblances with its contemporary counterpart, notwithstanding all the varieties exhibited over the fifteen hundred years or so of ancient Greek and Roman practices. “Ideas of friendship were adapted to different practices, but the core sense of a private bond based on mutual affection, esteem, and liberality—within the capabilities of the respective partners—abided” (148). What is foreign in ancient human relations may be considerable, but it [End Page 359] does not efface what remains familiar and what continues to be prized about the company of friends. Regardless of the peculiarities of ancient political associations, protocols of reciprocity, the relations of clients to their patrons, strains between honesty and flattery, divided loyalties among families, friends, and countries, and the dramatic effects of early Christianity on human relations when faced with a relationship to God, there is, all the same, something comfortably familiar about the ways friends related to one another throughout the ancient world. This abides even in the face of ancient/modern barriers segregating friendships from, say, sexual relationships or restricting friendships across genders, or so it would seem.Konstan’s anthropological approach employs an approximating master concept of friendship with which to tie his story together, a conception which places great emphasis on “mutual affection, esteem, and liberality.” Aristotle’s understanding of friendship consequently plays a special role in this history, both as an influential model within antiquity and also as a vehicle for Konstan’s own narrative construction.Aristotle famously portrayed a prototype of human friendship in which persons are bound together first and foremost by a personal affinity due in large part to the content of their character, in contrast to those who are friends for lesser reasons, due to usefulness or pleasure. At the same time, Aristotle’s focus on virtue friendship as a primary vehicle for fathoming other varieties of human relations became something of a self-fulfilling methodology. Armed with such a normative model, a philosophical anthropologist would then rank other varieties of human relations accordingly, as lesser forms of friendship. Aristotle’s template serves Konstan’s purpose nicely, since he too sees character affinity as primary to the various ways we human beings relate with one another. Yet, normative ideals of what friendship ought to be when at its best inevitably affect, in turn, how we read the ways friends are and were historically.Following Aristotle, Konstan lays great emphasis on the originating Greek conception of the friend (philos as a noun), as opposed to the various instantiations of whatever objects may be loved or cherished generally (philos as an adjective). So too, the broader, underlying account of caring (philein the verb; philia the abstracted noun) is displaced as well, to maintain a steady focus on the living witness of friends, both real and ideal. While this tidy terminological division between philos (noun) and philos (adjective) might work well for Aristotle and for Konstan, Plato found it less appealing. And it was Plato’s Lysis, after all, that Aristotle’s originating model of friendship was responding to. Had a modern... (shrink)

The authors of this volume elucidate the remarkable role played by religion in the shaping and reshaping of narrative forms in antiquity and late antiquity in a variety of ways. This is particularly evident in ancient Jewish and Christian narrative, which is in the focus of most of the contributions, but also in some “pagan” novels such as that of Heliodorus, which is dealt with as well in the third part of the volume, both in an illuminating comparison with Christian (...) novels and in an inspiring rethinking of Heliodorus's relation to Neoplatonism. All of these essays, from different perspectives, illuminate the interplay between narrative and religion, and show how religious concerns and agendas shaped narrative forms in Judaism and early Christianity. A series of compelling and innovative articles, all based on fresh and often groundbreaking research by eminent specialists, is divided into three large sections: part one deals with ancient Jewish narrative, and part two with ancient Christian narrative, in particular gospels, acts, biographies, and martyrdoms, while part three offers a comparison with “pagan” narrative, and especially the religious novel of Heliodorus, both in terms of social perspectives and in terms of philosophical and religious agendas. Like the essays collected by Marília Futre Pinheiro, Judith Perkins, and Richard Pervo in 2013, which investigate the core role played by narratives in Christian and Jewish self-fashioning in the Roman Empire, the present volume fruitfully bridges the disciplinary gap between classical studies and ancient Jewish and Christian studies, offers new insights, and hopefully opens up new paths of inquiry. Contributions by (in alphabetical order): Cathryn Chew, Mark J. Edwards, Erich Gruen, Vincent Hunink, David Konstan, Karen King, Dennis MacDonald, Laura S. Nasrallah, Judith Perkins, Richard Pervo, Ilaria Ramelli, Lautaro Roig Lanzillotta, Svetla Slaveva-Griffin, and Lawrence Wills. (shrink)

Ramelli undertakes for the first time a systematic investigation of the possible knowledge of Christianity in a group of novels, all dated between the first and third century CE, and belonging to geographical areas in which Christianity was present at that time. She endeavors to point out the meaning that possible allusions had for the public addressed by those novels. . . . The results of her research are, in my opinion, of the highest interest. . . . Her work (...) seems to me to be most helpful and rich in outstanding results. --Marta Sordi, in Aevum 76 (2002) -/- The authors of the classical novels shared their world with Christians--some may have been Christians themselves--and one might expect to find references to Christianity in their works. In this learned and pioneering study, Ilaria Ramelli, an expert in both classical literature and early Christianity, brings to bear her profound knowledge of ancient history and a subtle feel for literary values, and identifies a wide range of possible allusions. Her book is a contribution not only to the study of the ancient novel but also to our understanding of the cross influences between religious cultures in the ancient world. --David Konstan Professor of Classics New York University -/- The book has important qualities. First of all, the author offers a very full synthesis of the results of earlier partial studies, including those by herself. A lot of work must have been invested in its preparation, which entailed studying a variety of areas, literary, historical, and theological . . . Secondly, she always takes a careful stand, and never allows herself to declare certain what is no more than plausible or even most probable; Lucian is the only author about whose direct knowledge of Christianity she is absolutely sure. And finally, the work includes a wealth of bibliographical references, both in the footnotes and in the sixty-eight pages of the bibliography. The book is a mine of information . . . Nowadays, both the literature of the novels and the early Church as an element of society are in the spotlight of scholarly interest. Those wishing to work on the points of contact between the two are well advised to use Ramelli as a guide. They will find the facts, well-balanced discussions, and an exhaustive bibliography. --Anton Hilhorst, in Ancient Narrative 3 (2003) -/- Ramelli demonstrates enormous meticulousness, learning, and a critical approach to the sources and bibliography . . . The documentation with which the author of this monograph corroborates all of her statements concerning possible parallels (between the ancient novels and Christianity) with respect to the contents or form . . . is absolutely exhaustive. We must also highlight the huge carefulness, erudition, and critical use of literature. --Antonio Artes Hernandez, in Myrtia 19 (2004). (shrink)

Hall (1996) raises the question of the relationship between Aristotle’s Politics and Poetics by claiming that Aristotle had separated drama from its civic origins; various rejoinders to her challenge can be found in Heath (2009) and Jones (2012). In response to this question, I argue that a central connection between these two works is their shared concern about the effects of performance—both in the case of drama and music—either for performers or their audience. Aristotle’s criticisms of “spectacle” (opsis) in tragedy—a (...) problem taken up most recently in Bouchard (2012), Hanink (2011), Konstan (2013), Sifakis (2013), and Wise (2008)—thus parallel his criticisms of slavishness in musical performance in Politics 8. Thus, the problem of Aristotle’s silence about tragedy in his account of education in Politics 8—a problem taken up by Lord (1982) and more recently Ford (2004)—is explainable on the basis of an explicit and central doctrine from the Poetics, namely that a drama can produce the function of tragedy independent of public performance. On my reading, Aristotle’s Politics and Poetics together retain tragedy as a central “cultural” institution for the liberally educated citizen, a view completely consistent with everything Aristotle defends about tragedy in the Poetics. But Politics 8 displaces tragedy as the pre-eminent form of public education and in its place supplies instrumental music—no doubt much to the consternation of Athenian democrats both historically and their kindred spirits in contemporary drama and classics departments. My paper concludes by articulating and speculating about why music eclipses tragedy as the pre-eminent form of liberal arts education in Aristotle’s best regime. (shrink)

This work is a volume in the series Ancient Commentators on Aristotle, edited by Richard Sorabji. The aim of the series is to make the Greek commentaries available in English. Konstan does an admirable job of this. The translation is extremely careful, clear, and readable. Konstan succeeds in staying close to the text without sacrificing intelligibility. Whenever necessary, he inserts words or phrases in brackets to complete the sense of an accurately translated passage. Konstan also makes use (...) of brackets to give precise citations to fill out Simplicius' references. The footnotes, too, are excellent. There the reader finds information about deviations from Diels's text, about alternative readings, and explanations of renderings into English that might be controversial. In the introduction, Sorabji gives a thumbnail sketch of the philosophical issues raised by Physics 6. Several useful documents are appended to the commentary, namely, a list of all departures from Diels's text, an appendix written by the editor providing a brief survey of the ancient Greek commentators, and a list of the philosophers cited by Simplicius with a onesentence description of each. (shrink)

Mont Publishing House and Valery Vino deliver the first volume of an eclectic collection in aesthetic education. Aesthetic Literacy is an experiment in philosophy of culture, and this volume features cross-genre contributions by: Theodore Gracyk (Minnesota), Babette Babich (Fordham), David Konstan (NYU), Katya Mandoki (UNAM), Arnold Berleant (Long Island), Jale Erzen (Middle East Tech), Curtis Carter (Marquette), Clive Cazeaux (Cardiff), Fabrizio Desideri (Florence), Ken-ichi Sasaki (Tokyo), and many others... -/- .

Gabriela Cursaru, Benoît Castelnérac, Yvon Lafrance, Catherine Collobert, Daniel Larose, Francisco Gonzalez, Sara Magrin, George Englebretsen, David Konstan, Margaret R. Graver, Bulletin de philosophie ancienne, Revue de Métaphysique et de Morale, No. 3, Empédocle. Les Dieux, le sacrifice et la grâce (JUILLET-SEPTEMBRE 2012), pp. 403-454.

This article has three interrelated aims. The first is to analyze the concept of grief; the second is to argue for the putative rationality of grief (against Donald Gustafson’s contention to the contrary); and the third is to offer a moral justification of grief along broadly Aristotelian lines as an intrinsically valuable trait of character—a virtue. With regard to this third and ultimate aim, I argue not only that grief plays an unappreciated positive role in our moral experiences but flesh (...) out a case for what exactly that positive moral role is. More precisely, I argue that grief is best justified as an Aristotelian desert-based emotional trait, incorporating two distinct desert-motivated desires, one specifically directed at the memory of the dead person as deserving of homage, the other more cosmically focusing on the general undeservingness of good people passing away. The argument goes against the grain of most previous instrumental justifications of grief and palpably violates David Konstan’s contention that grief involves “no reference to desert.”. (shrink)