In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:An Exposition of The Divine Names, The Book of Blessed Dionysius by Thomas AquinasMichael J. Rubin, Elizabeth C. Shaw, and Staff*AQUINAS, Thomas. An Exposition of The Divine Names, The Book of Blessed Dionysius. Translated and edited with an introduction by Michael A. Augros. Merrimack, N.H.: Thomas More College Press, 2021. xxv + 549 pp. Cloth, $65.00The profound influence that Pseudo-Dionysius had on Aquinas’s thought, especially in his metaphysics (...) of participation and his apophatic theology, has been known for some time now, thanks to the excellent work of such scholars as Fran O’Rourke. One would therefore think that Aquinas’s Exposition of the Divine Names (his only commentary on the works of Pseudo-Dionysius) would have been translated a lot sooner. This delay is assuredly due not just to the difficulty of translating this work but also to a certain embarrassment felt by Thomists over Aquinas’s sincere belief that the “Dionysius” who wrote the Divine Names was the Areopagite whose conversion at the teaching of St. Paul is mentioned in the Acts of the Apostles. That the author calling himself “Dionysius” was in fact a theologian writing in the fifth or sixth centuries has been well established by modern scholarship. Hence, Thomists may have felt tempted to discount or at least pass over the influence of this author on Aquinas since it is discomfiting to think that the Church’s greatest theologian accorded such authority to an imposter.Michael Augros tackles these concerns head-on in the excellent introduction to his new translation of the Divine Names commentary. First, Augros points out that in past centuries a pseudonym was usually not an act of forgery but, rather, a way of concealing the author’s identity, which an early Christian theologian might well decide to do either out of humility or out of a desire “to avoid provoking certain prejudices” in those who disagreed with him in contemporary theological disputes. Moreover, it is likely that the work was never intended for the general public (who could easily mistake the pseudonym as genuine) but, rather, was written for those “already initiated in a particular Neoplatonic school of Christian theology,” who would recognize the author as being “one of their own” but without knowing his precise identity. Finally, in taking the particular name of “Dionysius,” the author of the Divine Names was indicating his intention for the work: Just as the biblical Dionysius was a Greek philosopher who converted to Christianity, so the works of Pseudo-Dionysius [End Page 345] are an attempt to reconcile Greek philosophy with the Christian faith.It therefore seems likely, as Augros observes, that Aquinas would still have accorded a great deal of respect to the Divine Names even if he had learned the truth of the author’s identity. The work would not have had the same deuterocanonical authority for him that comes with being written by a direct disciple of St. Paul himself, but “the inherent cogency, coherence, and beauty” of Pseudo-Dionysius’s theology would have been the same. Hence, Pseudo-Dionysius would surely have earned from Aquinas the “docile attitude” appropriate “for a philosopher and theologian of the first order, such as Boethius.”That Aquinas was right to see the author of the Divine Names as a master philosopher and theologian becomes evident when one dives into the text itself, in which Aquinas sees a truly dazzling order, both externally and internally. According to Aquinas, the Divine Names discusses those truths about God of which there are intelligible likenesses in creatures, such as goodness or wisdom, whereas the truths about God of which there are sensible likenesses (for example, “when God is called a lion, or a rock”) are treated by Pseudo-Dionysius in The Symbolic Theology; meanwhile, in the lost or fictional work The Divine Characteristics, Dionysius claims to have treated those truths about God (such as the Trinity) that cannot be known through any likenesses in creatures.Aquinas finds a still more intricate order within the Divine Names itself. Since this work is dedicated to “the divine names by which the processions of God to creatures are manifested,” the plan of the work... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Aristotle on the Sources of the Ethical Life by Sylvia BerrymanElizabeth C. Shaw and Staff*BERRYMAN, Sylvia. Aristotle on the Sources of the Ethical Life. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2019. vii + 220 pp. Cloth, $70.00—Berryman’s goals in Aristotle on the Sources of the Ethical Life are threefold: to establish that Aristotle practiced what contemporary philosophers call metaethics; to refute the idea that Aristotle justified those ethics by recourse (...) to human nature, understood as an “external point” for “establishing substantial ethical truths from a value-neutral perspective”; and to demonstrate that, for Aristotle, the source and justification for ethical demands is human practical reason.Locating the source of normativity in practical reason does not mean that there are no “standards of truth other than human beings as a species.” Positioning Aristotle against both “Archimedean” naturalisms as well as relativisms and subjectivisms, Berryman sees Aristotle’s appeals to nature as delimiting “the kinds of normative positions that could guide practical reason,” and practical reason as responsive to biological constraints. Still, nature is no fulcrum. It does not mandate the contents of the life we should live. All of this together makes Berryman’s Aristotle a “constitutive constructivist,” which is to say, a nonskeptical, cognitivist nonfoundationalist.Chapter 1’s “Introduction” sets the stage for the book’s metaethical project. Chapters 2 and 3 argue against two versions of the claim that “Aristotle was not reflective on the sources and justifications for his ethical views.” Chapter 2 places “Aristotle in the Ethics Wars” of the twentieth and twenty-first centuries, challenging the historicist view that “the kind of metaethical reflection about the sources of normativity” that preoccupies modern philosophy in response to “‘disenchantment’ of the modern world picture” would not have been available to Aristotle. Chapter 3, “Nature and the Sources of Normativity,” positions itself against scholars who maintain that Aristotle was complacent about the values of his own society and/or “too philosophically naïve to even reflect on the sources and justifications of ethical claims.” Inhabiting Aristotle’s social and intellectual milieu, it shows how the epistemological questions, commitments to materialist-scientific worldviews, as well as challenges to divine authority posed by fifth-century sophists, Plato, and fourth-century [End Page 381] hedonists meant that “a philosopher in Aristotle’s position could hardly avoid being reflective on questions of the status of ethics.”After establishing in chapter 3 that Aristotle could have grounded ethical claims in his natural philosophy, chapters 4 through 6 make the case that he did not. Exploring the philosophical work done by Aristotle’s appeals to nature, chapter 4, “Is Aristotle an Archimedean Naturalist?”, focuses on the apparent directionality of human development as well as references to “natural justice” and “natural virtue” in Aristotle’s ethical writings, while chapter 5, “Naturalism in Aristotle’s Politics,” scrutinizes the “naturalness of the polis” and “natural slavery” in Politics 1. Finding “only very minimal appeal to human nature” in the ethical treatises, Berryman sees Aristotle’s recourse to nature in Politics 1 as “the main anomaly” for which her refutation of Archimedean naturalism must account. Based on internal evidence in the Politics and comparison with Aristotle’s biological writings, Berryman concludes that Aristotle wrote the Politics before he “developed his more detailed biological theories.” Rather than evidence of naturalism, Aristotle’s appeals to nature in Politics 1, Berryman argues, are an early reflection of the “nomos-phusis distinction found in sophistic controversies” and a “kind of rhetorical move” based on thorough “prejudice and not reasoned inference.” Concluding “The Case Against a Naturalist Reading,” chapter 6 sets the stage for Berryman’s resourcing of Aristotle’s metaethics away from nature by exploring the inadequacies of the instrumental and theoretical rule-guiding reasoning implicit in naturalist accounts of Aristotelian practical reason.Chapters 7 and 8 offer the book’s positive account. After elaborating Aristotle’s rejection of “metaphysical abstractions” as action-guiding, chapter 7, “Aristotle’s Metaethics,” recovers from the Eudemian Ethics human agency as the source of normativity in Aristotle. Action “carries with it an implicit commitment to the norms of practical reasoning,” and “Aristotle’s insight,” Berryman writes, “is the metaethical recognition that the practical... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Explorations in Ancient and Modern Philosophy by Myles F. BurnyeatAllison Piñeros Glasscock and Elizabeth C. Shaw and Staff*BURNYEAT, Myles F. Explorations in Ancient and Modern Philosophy, vol. 4. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2022. xii + 395 pp. Cloth, $120.00The eleven essays in this collection were originally published while Burnyeat was at All Souls College, Oxford (1996–2006) and during his subsequent retirement. Like volume 3 of the same series, (...) the collection was published posthumously, with editorial work undertaken by Carol Atack, Malcolm Schofield, and David Sedley. Part I contains seven essays on topics in ontology and epistemology; part II contains four essays on physics and optics. The figures examined include the usual suspects—Plato and Aristotle (plus an appearance by Aquinas)—but Burnyeat also draws our attention to some less appreciated accomplices to the ancient philosophical project: the Platonist commentator Numenius of Apamea, the Pythagorean Archytas of Tarentum, and Anaxarchus of Abdera, a follower of Democritus. The result is a collection that showcases one of Burnyeat's greatest strengths: his ability to identify the clues left for us in ancient texts and to produce from them compelling and exquisitely detailed accounts of what ancient philosophers were thinking and why.One of the final papers of the volume illustrates Burnyeat's detective acumen. "Archytas and optics" starts from the following question: Why is optics absent from the mathematical curriculum Plato sketches in the Republic? Burnyeat hypothesizes that if mathematical optics existed when the Republic was written, Plato likely excised it from the curriculum on the grounds that the discipline would lead the student to focus on visible things and their appearances. The bulk of the paper is devoted to establishing the antecedent of this conditional. Burnyeat argues that mathematical optics did exist at the time of the Republic's writing, and he posits the noncanonical Pythagorean Archytas as its founder. To recognize the significance of this lacuna in the Republic's curriculum and to provide a persuasive identification of the founder of an entire discipline is already to make a substantial contribution to scholarship. But how Burnyeat arrives at his central conclusion is equally impressive. He takes the reader on a tour of Aristotle, Plato, and Iamblichus, fragment 4 of Archytas, and the Apologia of Apuleius (whom readers might better recognize as the novelist responsible for The Golden [End Page 345] Ass). The result is not only an answer to the paper's central question, but a deeper understanding of the broader intellectual network in which canonical figures like Plato and Aristotle operated.No fragment is too small to catch Burnyeat's notice, nor is any line in a manuscript too faint. Part I of the collection includes Burnyeat's famous paper "Kinēsis vs. energeia: a much-read passage in (but not of) Aristotle's Metaphysics." The central argument is that Metaphysics 9.6.1048b18–35 is out of place. It was written by Aristotle for a different context and should not be printed in book 9. Because this article is so well known, I will not dwell on the details of the argument, but once again Burnyeat's methodology is worthy of comment. The first part of the paper offers a careful examination of the Metaphysics's manuscript tradition that attends both to what is present and to what is absent. For example, we learn that the focus passage is missing from an entire branch of the tradition, which Burnyeat suggests is the result of a learned excision. Later, Burnyeat develops a psychological sketch of the scribe of manuscript Ab beginning from the observation that a faint line is drawn through part of the focus passage. He argues that the scribe's motivation is not disapproval of the passage's contents but a desire to keep his text and commentary in sync. Observations like these provide the foundation for Burnyeat's thesis about the philosophical import of the focus passage, and they demonstrate that the physical record can be just as vital to reconstructions of ancient philosophy as the words that the record preserves.Occasionally, Burnyeat offers more direct admonitions to his readers about how to approach ancient philosophy. A key lesson... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Summaries and CommentsElizabeth C. Shaw, Staff*, and James ChamberlainBAGGINI, Julian. The Great Guide: What David Hume Can Teach Us about Being Human and Living Well. Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 2021. 319 pp. Cloth, $24.95; paper, $19.95Throughout this engaging and accessible book, Julian Baggini encourages his readers to treat the life and works of David Hume as a "model of how to live." Baggini presents summaries of Hume's most (...) famous philosophical arguments, along with biographical details about Hume's life, but always with the aim of learning from Hume about living well. He also discusses his own visits to several locations of importance to Hume.Over the course of The Great Guide, Baggini suggests many "Humean maxims and aphorisms" related to the good life. Some are drawn from Hume's own writings, such as the maxim that "the greatest part of mankind float betwixt vice and virtue." Others are arrived at by considering aspects of Hume's own life and character, including his failings. For example, after considering Hume's racism, Baggini clearly has his own admiration for Hume in mind when he suggests the maxim "never slavishly follow even the greatest minds, for they too have prejudices, weaknesses, and blind spots."Baggini begins by describing those parts of Edinburgh and southern Scotland that Hume would have known in his youth. He recounts the young Hume's rejection of religious belief and of the Stoic project of attempting to find happiness by making oneself independent of others. However, Baggini notes, Hume never rejected the racist views he expressed in his essay "Of National Characters." Baggini argues that, although we should condemn Hume's views, we should treat his possession of these views primarily as evidence of the extent to which we are all socially conditioned. In Baggini's view, Hume's empiricist commitments are such that, were he to be alive today, experience would lead him to reject racism. Baggini thus aims to excuse Hume, at least somewhat, without excusing his racism.In chapter 2, Baggini follows Hume to La Flèche, in France's Loire valley, where Hume wrote most of his Treatise of Human Nature. As well as providing an account of Hume's time there, Baggini summarizes Hume's arguments about miracles, reason, and causation. He approvingly [End Page 809] notes Hume's skeptical conclusions concerning miracles, which he takes to demonstrate Hume's insistence on philosophizing only about the world as it really is. Baggini treats Hume's conclusions about cause and effect as significantly less skeptical. Although he observes that some scholars deny this, Baggini understands Hume to assert that causation is a "real power." His is a clear and helpful introduction to Hume's arguments concerning cause and effect, but readers of the relevant passages might hope for a little more discussion of what certainly appear to be Hume's skeptical claims about causal powers.Chapter 3 examines Hume's arguments about free will and personal identity, via a discussion of the complex factors which shaped his identity as a man of letters. Baggini observes Hume's sociability and his satisfaction in his success. He also commends Hume's broad-minded approach to philosophy and his willingness to write a wide variety of essays and, eventually, historical works.In chapter 4, Baggini discusses Hume's relationship with Paris. Returning to the topic of Hume's broad understanding of philosophy, Baggini argues that many of Hume's greatest insights were psychological ones. By comparing Hume's views on religion with the fervent atheism of the French philosophes, Baggini admiringly stresses Hume's moderation and his denial of any knowledge about "the ultimate ground of being." Since Hume believed he knew no more about the origins of the universe than anyone else, Baggini argues, he was able to develop friendships with and respect for moderate religious thinkers, as many philosophes were not. However, Baggini also suggests that Hume's "conservative instincts" sometimes led him astray, as where he "broadly endorsed the patriarchal attitudes of his time."Chapter 5 begins with an account of the dispute between Hume and Jean-Jacques Rousseau, which then forms the background for a discussion... (shrink)